His Montana Bride

Now what did he do? Cord looked down at the ground, wishing it would swallow him up but knowing this was a situation he’d have to face. He looked up and caught the eyes of the woman he’d invited along for a day that should have been relaxing and now she was all kinds of tied into their lives. Exactly where he didn’t want her.

“Why do you think something is wrong with your grammy?”

Marci bit down on her bottom lip and her sigh hung up a little, sounding more like a sob. “Because I know she’s sick. I know something is wrong. She forgot the car in town and walked home. When I asked her where the car was, she told me she’d never owned a car.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Cord stood next to her horse, his hand on hers.

“Because later she remembered and she was embarrassed and told me it must be the blood pressure medication. But it wasn’t, because she forgot that I go to school. I think she thought I was my mom.”

Behind him, hooves crunched on the rocky ground. “If you want,” Katie said, “I don’t mind riding along. You’ll get there quicker if you don’t have to take me to the main house.”

He glanced up at the woman in the saddle, her red hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Her cheeks were rosy from the cool, October mountain air and her green eyes were bright and knowing.

He didn’t know what to say. He’d dragged her into their lives. He’d put her on that horse she rode with natural grace even though she’d never really ridden. He’d given her entrance and now he couldn’t push her back. Because, man, he didn’t want to face this alone. If she was willing to be a friend to both him and Marci during a pretty rotten time, he’d take the offer.

He didn’t want to tell a kid that her grandmother was going to start forgetting her, forgetting school programs and forgetting hugs they had always shared.

He hated this disease, hated what it did to the person who faced it and the families that lost loved ones long before they left this earth. Eleven was too young to face this.

“Cord?” Her hand settled on his shoulder.

He looked up and finally nodded. “Marci, we’ll check on Grammy together.”

“Okay.” Tears were filling Marci’s brown eyes. “It isn’t her medicine, is it?”

“No.” He let out a long sigh. “It isn’t.”

As he swung himself into the saddle of his horse, Katie rode up next to Marci, putting her hand on his goddaughter’s arm and giving her an encouraging smile. And Cord didn’t know how to tell her she didn’t have to do this. She’d stayed because her sister asked and now she was going to be with him when he told Marci that soon her grandmother would probably have to live in the nursing home a town away from them.

His big dun sidestepped beneath him, sensing his mood. The mousy-gray horse tossed his head and pulled at the bit, trying to move forward. Cord held him in careful control, watching as Katie and Marci rode out ahead of him. Life shifted, changing in that moment in a way he hadn’t expected. He was still trying to tell himself that Katie was safe, an easy person to be around, uncomplicated. And then he called himself a liar because she was anything but uncomplicated.

* * *

When they pulled up to the little house Marci lived in with her grandmother, Cord noticed Lulu on the front porch sitting on her little glider bench. She waved and even smiled, but the smile faltered and her hand dropped to her lap.

Ten years ago he’d stood on this same porch wondering how to knock, how to tell Lulu that her only child was dead, killed when a truck slid on icy roads and hit her car head-on. He’d stayed the night, holding little Marci and promising the two of them that he’d always be there.

He remembered trying to explain that to Susan, his former fiancée. She’d told him that was fine but once they were married he’d have to understand that he couldn’t take care of the whole world. They would have children of their own, she’d informed him, and a life of their own. He’d understood. He really had. A woman didn’t want to share her life with an orphaned child and a widow.

He’d been prepared to juggle his responsibilities and he’d hoped Susan would come around. As he got out of the truck, Katie was getting out on the other side. She held the door open for Marci and reached for the child’s hand. Marci took the offered hand without hesitation. And now he knew his other fear, that a girl growing into her teen years needed more than a bachelor cowboy.

Today she needed someone soft, someone with arms that could hug. She needed a gentle touch and a woman’s voice in her ear. That had been obvious on the drive to town. Marci had held tight to Katie’s hand as he had explained what was happening to her grandmother. It had surprised him that it was a stranger’s hand Marci reached for, but maybe it made sense. Sometimes it was easier to turn to a stranger, someone with no expectations.

“It’ll be okay.” Katie offered as they walked toward the house. “But it won’t be easy.”

Honesty. It would not, in any way, be easy. He’d known for a while that something was up with Lulu. He’d seen it months before she’d told him the truth. He’d caught her a few times at church talking to someone she’d always known, but the look in her eyes had troubled him. It had been as if she was talking to strangers but pretending she knew them.

When he’d talked to his mom about this, she had told him that Alzheimer’s patients often pretended to remember. She’d volunteered at the nursing home and understood better than he did.

“Marci!” Lulu stood as they approached. “Honey, I was worried about you. Where have you been?”

“With Cord, Grammy, remember? We saw him at church and I left with him.”

Lulu frowned but then she nodded, “Of course. Do you know, I had to get a ride home with the Parkers? My car wouldn’t start. But they’re leaving now.”

Marci looked from her grandmother to Cord. He nodded toward the house and she hurried inside, Katie right behind her. The door closed with a soft click, leaving Cord and Lulu alone on the porch.

“Lulu?” Cord took her arm. “Let’s go inside.”

“No, Cord, I don’t want to do this.”

“We have to.”

She shook her head and then she sobbed into his shoulder. Her tears were damp and warm against his sleeve. “If we don’t say it, it won’t be real.”

She’d said the same thing ten years ago. She’d cried when she saw him on the front porch and she’d told him not to tell her. She’d begged him to go away and not be the one to do this to her. But he’d taken her by the arm and led her inside and he’d told her anyway. He’d told her that her only child had died in a car accident.

“You don’t have to do this, Cord. You don’t always have to be the one.”

He laughed a little because she sniffled and looked up at him, smiling. “I wish that wasn’t true, Lulu.”

“Please, just one more day of normal.”

“What’s normal anyway, Lulu?”

She sobbed again. “Normal is waking up in the morning and knowing your granddaughter’s name and why she’s in your home. I want more of those days.”

He wasn’t ashamed of the hot sting of tears in his eyes. He swiped at them and leaned to kiss the top of her head. “I know.”

“Promise me you’ll take care of her.”

“Lulu, I already promised. I signed on the dotted line two weeks ago, remember?”

“Yes, I remember. Don’t patronize me, you big ox.”

He laughed because laughing hurt a lot less than crying. “You always say such sweet things, Lu.”