well. He saw it every morning when he looked in the mirror. What had happened to her life?
“I’ll take care of my daughter,” she replied, as cool as the snowflakes falling on her hair.
“I hope you do. I could have hit her. Anyone driving on this road could have, and then two lives would have been changed forever.”
“I’m sorry if she disturbed…your drive.”
He heard the derision in her voice and he relented a little. “It’s dangerous out here.”
“I’m aware of that.” She looked down at her daughters and ignored him, much as she had in high school. “Let’s go home where it’s warm.” They walked away, Cheyenne holding the girls’ hands.
“I didn’t talk to him, Mommy, ’cause he’s a stranger,” Sadie said.
“Good, baby.”
Cheyenne started to run and the girls followed suit. Sadie glanced back at him as they disappeared into the Wrights’ driveway.
Tuf pulled his sheep-lined jacket tighter around him to block the chill of a Montana December.
Welcome home, Tuf.
Some things just never changed. Cheyenne still didn’t like him.
* * *
CHEYENNE USHERED THE GIRLS into the living room and sat them down by the fire. For a moment she let her chilled body soak up the warmth. When she stopped trembling, she hurried to the bathroom for a towel. Rushing back, she removed the girls’ new Christmas coats and dried Sadie’s hair and face, as well as her own. Her clothes were damp and she needed to change, but she had to talk to Sadie first.
She sat between them. “Sadie, baby, why do you keep running away?”
Sadie shrugged.
Cheyenne brushed back one of Sadie’s flyaway curls. “Mommy is worried. Please stop this.”
Sammie crawled into her lap. “I won’t run away, Mommy.”
She kissed Sammie’s warm cheek. Their father’s death had affected the girls so differently. Sammie clung to her while Sadie was defiant and seemed determined to get away from her. Cheyenne was at her wit’s end trying to get Sadie to talk about what was bothering her.
Gathering the girls close, she whispered, “I love you guys.”
“I love you, too, Mommy.” Sammie was quick to say the words.
Fat tears rolled from Sadie’s eyes. “I…I…” she blubbered.
Cheyenne held her tighter, feeling hopeless. Why couldn’t she help her child? She smoothed Sadie’s hair and kissed her forehead. “You love Mommy?”
Sadie nodded and Cheyenne held her daughters, wondering how she was ever going to reach Sadie. The fire crackled with renewed warmth, and she leaned against her dad’s recliner holding the two most important people in the world to her. They snuggled against her.
Cheyenne’s body was so cold she didn’t think she’d ever get warm again. The fear in her slowly subsided. They’d been in town and on the way home when Sammie suddenly had to go to the bathroom. Running into the house, she’d turned on the TV for Sadie and helped Sammie out of her coat. When they’d come out of the bathroom, Sadie was gone. Cheyenne was frantic, calling and calling for Sadie.
It wasn’t the first time Sadie had disappeared, and Cheyenne had tried to breathe past the fear. But Sadie wasn’t in the yard or at the barn. Sammie trailed behind her crying. Cheyenne made her go back into the house for her coat. It was cold. The only place left was the road, and it had started to snow again.
When she saw a truck stopped and a man talking to her child, real terror had leaped into her throat. She had to do better than this.
And the man had turned out to be Tuf Hart, the last person she’d thought she would ever see again. She was too worried about Sadie to give him much thought. He’d changed, but she still knew who he was. He was the only man who ever made her nervous and excited at the same time. One thing was clear, though: the skinny, affable boy from school had returned a man, with broad shoulders and a muscled body that was toned from rigorous training. She knew that from her marine husband, Ryan. He’d hated the training, but Tuf seemed to have flourished in it.
Tuf is home.
His family would be so relieved. He’d called his mom two years ago to let her know he was out of the marines and okay. After that, there’d been no word until his cousin Beau had seen him at a rodeo in November. Tuf still didn’t come home, though. The family was worried. Understandably so. Beau had assured the family that Tuf looked fine. Cheyenne could attest to that. Tuf Hart looked very fine. Yet different somehow. Being a marine changed men. It had changed Ryan and not for the better. Mentally it had destroyed him. And their marriage.
The front door opened and her dad came in after wiping his boots on the mat. He removed his hat and coat, hooking them on the wrought-iron coatrack. Tall and lean with a thatch of gray hair, Buddy Wright’s rugged, lined face showed a life of too much alcohol and too many days on the wrong side of the law.
Cheyenne thought she’d never return to Roundup. As a young girl, her dream was to leave and get far away from her alcoholic father. He’d caused her and her brother, Austin, so much heartache. Yet when she was at her lowest, she’d come home to the only parent she had.
He’d finally stopped drinking and gotten his life together. It couldn’t have happened at a better time for both his children. Austin had married Dinah Hart, and the Wrights were now included in the Hart family circle. It was a what’s-wrong-with-this-picture type thing. When John Hart was alive, he made it clear Buddy was not welcome at Thunder Ranch. That was the main reason she would never go out with Tuf. The Harts were a prominent family and the Wrights were from the wrong side of the tracks. She would not expose her wounded pride to the Harts, especially Tuf.
“I thought you were coming to the celebration,” her dad said.
“I was, but—” She got to her feet and flipped on the TV. The girls scurried to sit in front of it. “Sadie ran away again.”
“Again?” Her father followed her into the kitchen and watched as she made coffee. “I wondered what had happened. Leah was asking about you, and Jill wanted to know when the twins were coming, so I thought I’d better come check.”
“Tuf Hart found her walking in the ditch by the road.”
“Tuf?” One of her father’s shaggy gray eyebrows rose as she placed a cup of hot coffee in front of him. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, Dad. I know Tuf Hart.” She stirred milk and sugar into her coffee and sat at the table with him. “He’s changed, though. He’s not that laughing, fun-loving kid anymore. He seems so serious now.”
“War does that to a man.” Her father took a sip of his hot coffee, making that face he always made when he took the first taste. That oh-I-needed-this look. He sat the mug down. “The family must not know he’s coming or Sarah would have been so excited. He must be planning a surprise visit.”
She toyed with her cup. “I thought of
