her side while she’d cleaned out the stalls and fed the horses. She’d ridden with her and helped her fix lunch. Mindy filled her life with a renewed purpose.
She’d missed Mindy this past week when Mrs. Davies had started to work for Slade. She’d only seen her when she had her two lessons. When Slade had asked her if Mindy could spend the night since Mrs. Davies couldn’t stay with her, she had jumped at the chance to have the girl with her for a full twenty-four hours. It had seemed like Christmas in June.
One of Mindy’s legs began to slip off the swing. Tory caught it and tucked it back under her. The child stirred but continued to sleep.
Again Tory brushed a stray strand of hair that had fallen forward behind Mindy’s ear. “I wish I was your mother,” she whispered. Tears crammed her throat. She wasn’t Mindy’s mother, would never be. The thought pierced her heart like a red-hot poker.
Slade pulled up in front of Tory’s small, one-story white house surrounded by large oaks and maples and felt as though he had come home. Tory rose from a white wicker chair on the porch and waved. Peace rippled through him. Clasping the steering wheel, he closed his eyes for a few seconds to relish that feeling. He could imagine her fragrance of lilacs, the light in her eyes when she smiled, and he held on to that serenity for a couple of seconds longer. Then reality blanketed him in a heavy cloak of guilt. Exhaustion cleaved to him, sharpening the sensation there wasn’t enough time in a day to correct what had happened to his daughter.
The aroma of the pizza wafted to him, reminding him that he’d brought dinner and he was hungry. Sliding from the car, he grabbed the three boxes and headed for the porch.
Tory’s eyes lit with that sparkle that always made him feel special. He responded with his own grin, saying, “I hope you two are hungry. I got medium ones for everyone.”
“Medium! Who else is coming?” Tory stepped to the swing and nudged his daughter who lay curled on the yellow cushion, sleeping.
Mindy’s eyes blinked open. She rubbed them as she propped herself up. “Dad-dy!”
She started to get to her feet, but Slade motioned for her to remain sitting. He brought her pizza box to her and opened it on the seat next to her.
“Why don’t we eat out here? I’ll go get some lemonade for us to drink.” Tory rushed inside, the screen door banging closed.
Mindy stared at her pizza but didn’t pick up a piece.
“Aren’t you gonna dig in? I thought half of it would be gone by now.” Slade sat in a chair across from his daughter.
“Can’t. Wait—for Tor-ee. We always—say a—” Mindy squinted “—prayer be-fore eat-ing.”
“Oh, right,” he murmured, remembering a time when he, Carol and Mindy used to do that—before the accident, before his world had been turned upside down and inside out. “How was your day?”
“The—best!” His daughter’s expression came alive. “I—helped. I got—to—ride.”
“You’re becoming quite the rider.”
Mindy straightened her shoulders, her chin tilting at a proud angle. “Yep.”
Tory pushed the screen door open with her foot. Slade rose and quickly took the pitcher of lemonade from her. After the drinks were served, she sat in the chair next to Slade’s, across from Mindy.
“We—wait-ed,” Mindy said, carefully putting her glass on the table next to the swing.
Tory bowed her head with Mindy following suit. Slade stared at them for a few seconds, then lowered his. The words of the simple prayer weaved their way through his mind. Had he given up on God too soon? Had he been wrong to stop going to church, to keep Mindy at home? Tory seemed to draw comfort from the Lord. But then she hadn’t been responsible for her child struggling each day—
“Dad-dy!”
Mindy’s voice penetrated his thoughts. He looked up to find both of them were staring at him as though he were an alien from outer space. His daughter had a piece of pizza in her hand, one bite taken from its end. Tory had nothing. Then he realized he still held the other two boxes in his lap. He quickly passed Tory’s to her and opened his own.
“I’ll share if you’re that hungry,” Tory said in a teasing tone.
“Even though I forgot to eat lunch, that one is all yours. The least I can do is provide dinner for you after you watched Mindy for me.”
“Looks like I got the better end of the deal. You shouldn’t work so hard that you forget to eat.”
“Had a flight to catch and a gal to get back to. A mighty pretty gal if I do say so myself.” His gaze strayed to his daughter.
Mindy giggled, her mouth stuffed with food. She started to say, “Da—”
“Nope. No words from the peanut gallery, especially when a certain pretty gal’s mouth is still full of pizza.”
Giggling some more, Mindy covered her mouth.
Tory watched the exchange between father and daughter, the love deep in their eyes. Mindy washed her food down with a big gulp of lemonade.
Slade leaned over and handed his daughter a napkin, pointing to her chin. “You have a red beard.”
Father and daughter’s shared laughter pricked Tory with longing. She wanted that with a child. She wanted a family. And time was running out for her. She didn’t see any way she was going to accomplish that goal. Too many obstacles.
“Was your business trip successful?” Tory settled back in her chair, her stomach knotted.
Picking up his pizza laden with everything but the kitchen sink, Slade said, “Things are proceeding according to my plans. Hopefully I won’t have to travel as much in the future.”
Mindy clapped. “Goo-dy!”
“I figured you would like that,” Slade said, taking a bite of his food.
The little girl popped the last piece of her third slice into her mouth, then took a large swallow of lemonade. Pushing herself to her feet, she said, “Save—for—later?”
“Sure, but I thought you were hungry?” Slade’s brow knitted in question.
“My—show—is on.” She started for the door.
“Show? What show?” Slade asked as his daughter banged the screen door closed behind her.
Tory shrugged. “Beats me. She doesn’t watch much TV when she’s here.”
“She’s always been a fast eater, but she beat her record this time.”
“I think she wanted to leave us alone so I could talk to you.”
The frown lines deepened as he shifted his blue gaze to her. “This doesn’t sound good. What happened?”
Her stomach muscles constricted even more,
