Page 51 of Lone Star Country Protector
“Okay,” he agreed. “Thank you.”
“I’ll be right back,” Blakely promised. He let go of her hand before he changed his mind. Besides, he never would have agreed if she hadn’t outsmarted Johnny Spear to show up here in the first place. The fact she’d risked her life to come see Dalton wasn’t lost on him. But he couldn’t afford to let himself get wrapped up in the gesture.
Besides, he needed to help his grandfather out of the wheelchair and into the bed. Dalton moved beside the nurse. “I can lend a hand.”
“That would be appreciated,” she said.
This close, Dalton could assess just how much weight his grandfather had lost. Hoisting the man up was too easy.He stood on spindly legs, but that wasn’t anything good Southern cooking couldn’t fix.
“I’ll leave you to it,” the nurse said after reconnecting Grandpa Lor to the machines next to his bed. She paused at the door. “Lori-Anna has been calling every day to check on you and your wife. Am I allowed to call her back and give her a status update on your condition?”
Dalton hadn’t heard his mother’s name spoken out loud in longer than he could remember. He had no desire to see or hear from her again after what she’d pulled. Even hearing it now, after all these years, caused his hands to fist at his sides. What could possess a person to walk out on their infant son? Not to mention another son and daughter who were barely old enough to wipe their own backsides? She’d walked out on her husband and her children. Dalton had no use for the woman, despite the tug of curiosity deep in his chest.
“You have my permission to tell Lori-Anna about my status and tell her that I appreciate her calling and checking on me,” Grandpa Lorenzo said, much to Dalton’s complete shock and horror. Then added, “I’ll give her a call as soon as I’m able.”
He waited for the nurse to exit before he pulled a seat next to Grandpa Lor’s bed and asked, “Do you really want that woman to receive an update, or are you just being kind?”
Grandpa Lor studied Dalton for a long moment. He motioned toward a big white pitcher with a straw poking out of the top next to his bed that was probably filled with ice water.
Dalton handed it over carefully.
After taking a sip, Grandpa Lor cleared his throat and said, “Your mother’s situation was complicated. I understandwhy you wouldn’t want to talk about her, so we didn’t force the conversation on any of you.”
“Does that mean you stayed in touch with her over the years?” Dalton asked, a hornet’s nest of emotions buzzing around his heart. As angry as he still was, curiosity was getting the best of him. After almost losing his grandfather and with the possibility still looming that he could lose Grandma Lacey, his heart must have softened when it came to blood ties.
No.The subject was dead, and he should probably leave it alone.
“I won’t pretend to condone what Lori-Anna did all those years ago,” Grandpa Lor began. Speaking caused him to cough. He paused long enough to take another sip of water before holding the big jug in his once sturdy, now shaky hands. “Life is complicated. Families are complicated. Sometimes, finding a place of understanding is better than holding on to anger.”
Dalton couldn’t remember a time when either of his grandparents spoke ill about anyone in the family. His no-good uncle had ditched Dalton’s cousins after his wife died. The good son, Dalton’s father, had been killed in an accident on the ranch. His wife had walked out on their children a couple of years before his death.
So, yeah, he completely understood just how complicated families can be. Relationships fell into the same boat. He’d be a hypocrite if he said otherwise. Especially considering his relationship with Blakely. Or lack of relationship, he should say.
“I know it’s probably hard for you to understand,” Grandpa Lor continued before another small coughing jag.
“Maybe you should rest,” he said, not wanting to wear his grandfather out.
“I’d rather talk, if that’s all right with you,” Grandpa Lor said. “I’ve been asleep too long, and it feels good to have company.”
“All right then,” Dalton said.
“Your mother had a lot of difficulty after you were born,” Grandpa Lor said. “No one understood what was happening at the time, including her. Times were different almost thirty years ago. Difficulties were swept under the rug. She went inside herself. Got real quiet. Which wasn’t anything like her normal personality.”
“Does that excuse what she did in everyone’s eyes?” Dalton couldn’t help the question.
“I never said it did,” Grandpa Lor said wistfully. “I think sometimes it helps to understand, even if it doesn’t excuse someone’s behavior, if that makes sense.”
“It does,” Dalton confirmed, not yet ready to let go of his feelings toward the woman who birthed him but couldn’t stand to stick around long enough to raise him. She hadn’t tried to reach out since then either. Not one birthday card over the years. Not one Christmas present. As a young boy, Dalton couldn’t count the number of times he’d fantasized that he would wake up Christmas morning, run downstairs and find her sitting next to the Christmas tree with an armful of presents.
Too many.
Don’t get him started on all the birthdays he’d spent waiting by the phone just in case she called. He’d wasted a lot of energy and a lot of time waiting for his mother to make an appearance. He’d cried himself to sleep as a little boy, wishing he had a mother like the other kids on the playground had.
And then one night, he made a promise to himself never to shed another tear.
That was the last time he’d cried.
“Time doesn’t heal every wound,” Grandpa Lor said.
