Page 32 of A Steadfast Heart
“And anyone with eyes can see how much you love your children. All three of them.”
This time, he couldn’t help the snort that escaped. He sounded more horse than man. Apt.
“It’s true.” She sounded slightly affronted, and he took his eyes off the horse long enough for a quick glance. She had a determined pinch to her lips. Something was chasing around in the depths of her eyes and then it seemed like she came to a decision.
“My father wasn’t like you.” She said the words quietly, firmly. Like a fact you’d find in a schoolbook.
He shouldn’t pry. Shouldn’t ask. But that didn’t stop the words from tumbling out as he jostled the stirrups again. “What d’you mean?”
“I can give you an example. Once, when I was nine years old, Michael interrupted me while I was having a snack that our housekeeper had left out for me. He and I were alone in the dining room.”
Her body tensed.
She looked in Drew’s direction but not at him. “He demanded I give him my food. I refused.”
Drew held Phantom’s bridle, focused on her. Her voice had gone soft and far off, like she was lost in the memory.
“He could’ve gone into the kitchen to make something for himself, but instead, he pitched a fit. Things escalated, and he picked up my teacup and threw it—at me or at the table, I don’t know. It shattered and tea splattered—everywhere.”
He heard the catch in her voice, saw the quickly hidden tremble of her lip. It couldn’t be more obvious that her brother had frightened her, and a protective urge rose up inside him.
“My father must’ve been nearby in the house, because he appeared in the doorway. Michael lied and said I’d broken the cup, but I protested.”
He wanted to hear her say that her father had done what he should have and taken a switch to Michael’s behind. But he guessed that she wouldn’t.
Her lips thinned into a line, and she spoke the last quickly and matter-of-factly. “Father sent me to my room. That was the last I heard of it. Michael rarely got punished.”
She seemed to shake herself out of the memory. “For a long time, I wished I had a father like you.”
He almost recoiled at her words. She had to be joking. He didn’t know what he was doing raising three kids. Couldn’t seem to get through to Jo no matter what he tried.
Kaitlyn was gazing at him with a small sincere smile on her lips.
And his gut was twisting with remembering David’s slumped shoulders as he’d shuffled toward the barn.
He passed a hand over his face. “Would you excuse me?”
He needed to talk to his son.
* * *
Kaitlyn stood beside the corral railing, watching the saddled colt where he stood. She rubbed her chest, trying to erase the ache that remained after sharing that memory with Drew.
She refused to let Michael or the past have any hold over her new life here.
She wouldn’t have told him the story if it hadn’t been for David’s dejectedness and the concern she’d read beneath Drew’s unruffled demeanor. She’d seen it in the barn the other day. Drew wanted to be closer to his kids, but for some reason he held back.
So she’d told her story.
Now Drew and David exited the barn together. David was bouncing on his toes, excitement radiating from him. Drew said something Kaitlyn couldn’t hear, and David steadied himself, visibly working to calm himself.
Soft, quick footsteps pattered behind Kaitlyn. Tillie stopped next to her and stepped onto the bottom rail of the fence. “What’re they doing?”
“I don’t know,” Kaitlyn said.
Drew glanced over briefly, his face unreadable. “David’s going to be the first to ride the colt.”
The back door slammed, and Jo stepped outside. Tillie abandoned Kaitlyn and ran toward her sister, calling out, “David’s gonna ride Phantom!”
