Page 14 of Small Town Hero
“A re you sure about this?” Ian asked, standing next to Catherine, who was about to sink into the seat of her rental car.
“You’re really willing to let Vivian and Mabel stay with me for the rest of the summer?
” The twins had asked to live with him permanently, but he knew that wasn’t feasible, given how much their mother loved them.
Tears shimmered in Catherine’s eyes, though she was smiling.
“It’s obvious that they want to spend more time with you, Ian.
So, yes, I’m sure. I want our daughters to truly understand that I won’t be cutting you out of their lives just because I have a new husband now—not to mention four stepchildren, all of whom have issues of their own. ”
Ian didn’t miss the reference to our daughters , and he was so grateful that his throat thickened and his eyes burned. He glanced away briefly, blinked a few times, met his ex-wife’s gaze again. “Thank you, Catherine,” he said, his voice husky.
Catherine stood on tiptoe and kissed his stubbled cheek.
It was early in the morning, and he hadn’t shaved yet.
“Thank you , Ian, for loving Vivian and Mabel so much. For taking such good care of them, from the very first.” She paused, wiped away a tear of her own.
“I really wish things had worked out for us,” she finished, very softly.
“Me, too,” Ian admitted gruffly. “Just remember—I’ll always be your friend, never your enemy. And I’m truly glad that you’ve found someone you can build a life with.”
Catherine sniffled, smiled. “Now, it’s your turn,” she said. “Susannah Holiday sounds like a prospect, from what the girls tell me.”
Just then, the twins hurried out of the barn, where they’d been fussing over Ragamuffin and the other horses. As usual, Dub trotted along behind them, tongue lolling.
Mabel and Vivian flung themselves against Catherine’s sides and clung to her, heads tilted back, beaming up at her in pure adoration.
“We’ll miss you, Mom,” Vivian said.
Catherine bent slightly to kiss each of her daughters on top of their golden heads. “And I’ll miss you,” she replied. “Both of you. FaceTime next weekend?”
“FaceTime next weekend,” the little girls chorused.
Ian grinned, though he was still choked up.
He said nothing; this exchange was a mother-and-daughters thing, and he wasn’t about to interfere.
Moments later, after hugging each of the twins separately, Catherine said a tearful good-bye and got into the rental car.
And then she was driving away, heading for the road that ran past Ian’s ranch, turning in the direction of town.
Vivian and Mabel stood close to Ian as they watched their mother disappear, and he laid his hands on their shoulders. Squeezed gently.
Mabel was crying, and Dub stepped up to lick her face in sympathy.
She laughed then, and shrieked, “Eeeeew!”
“Let’s saddle up and ride,” Ian said presently, crouching between the children to look directly into their faces. “Sound like a good idea?”
“The best!” Vivian crowed, running her forearm across her eyes.
Twenty minutes later, Sultan, Ian’s gelding, and both the twins’ ponies were tacked up and ready to go.
Ian helped both girls mount up, then swung up onto Sultan’s back.
Dub, refusing to be left behind, made a dash through the outer gate of the corral the moment Ian had leaned over, worked the latch and shoved.
He chuckled, shook his head, readjusted his hat, widening the opening with a motion of one booted foot.
The sun was dazzling that morning, and both girls had hats of their own, bouncing against their little backs as they trotted their ponies through the gap.
At a pointed glance from Ian, they donned their head coverings.
After he’d closed the gate again, he and Sultan led the way toward the nearby foothills, closely followed by the twins and, of course, Dub.
For nearly two hours, Ian and his daughters simply rode, following trails that wound through the hills, pausing beside a bubbling spring to water the horses and stretch their own legs.
Walking to the nearby ridge, while Sultan and the ponies grazed, untethered, on rich, green high-country grass, the three of them surveyed the sprawling stretch of land that had been in Ian’s family for the better part of a century.
Ian was careful to keep the kids well back from the edge of the jutting boulders that formed the ridge itself, and he was amused to see that Dub was guarding them, too.
It was then that he noticed the blue SUV, far below, turning in at the gate.
“Looks like we have company,” he said quietly.
“That’s Susannah’s car,” Vivian announced. “Ellie showed us pictures.”
Ian made no comment. He simply pulled his phone free of the clasp on his belt, thumbed the screen, and started a text.
The twins and I are up on the ridge, but we’ll be down soon.
Below, Susannah’s tiny figure responded with a wave.
The little girl, Ellie, was beside her.
Ian’s phone dinged with a response. Sorry to just show up like this, Susannah responded, but I need some advice .
He replied with a thumbs-up and steered the girls back toward the horses.
Twenty minutes later, when they reached the outside gate of the corral fence again, Susannah was waiting to swing it open for them. Ellie, meanwhile, standing on the lowest rail and gripping the next one up, enjoyed riding the thing backwards.
Susannah’s expression, unlike her niece’s, was solemn.
She followed Ian into the cool shade of the barn. “I shouldn’t have interrupted your ride,” she said, looking worried.
Ian made quick work of cooling down the three horses and then putting them up for the night while the twins and Ellie ran around outside, playing some game with the tireless Dub, who was yipping for joy.
“It’s not a problem, Susannah,” Ian said quietly, tugging off his worn leather gloves and resettling his hat.
Her smile was tentative, delicate. “You really are a cowboy,” she observed, momentarily distracted, it seemed, from whatever it was she wanted to discuss.
Ian ached to kiss her, then and there, but it wasn’t the right time, and he knew it.
“Sans cows,” he confirmed, with a slight smile.
With that, Ian took Susannah’s elbow in a light grip and steered her out of the barn and toward the house.
They were in the kitchen when she pulled a small, beat-up notebook from the hip pocket of her jeans and waggled it back and forth between a thumb and a forefinger.
“You know about my sister Becky’s mental problems, I presume?”
The girls were still outside, with Dub. Ian pulled back a chair at the table and waited for Susannah to sit down. When she had, he nodded and replied, “Yes. Copper Ridge is a small place; everybody knows everybody else’s business. And I was on duty when the 911 call came in.”
Tears filled Susannah’s violet-blue eyes.
Distractedly, Ian wondered if the color was real, or if she was wearing contacts.
When he caught a glance at her profile on his way to the fridge for two bottles of cold water, the question was answered. No contacts.
She was still fiddling with the notebook when he set the water bottles down in the middle of the table and took a seat across from her.
“Talk to me, Susannah,” he said, very quietly.
Susannah pushed the notebook in his direction, her hand trembling.
“We’ve always known something really bad happened to Becky, something that traumatized her, but we were never able to find out what it was.
My parents took her to counselors, psychiatrists, pastors—none of them could get her to talk. ”
Ian picked up the notebook, thumbed through it, raised his gaze to Susannah’s face. He wanted to take her into his arms, hold her, comfort her.
Again, it wasn’t the time.
“And something in here”—he lifted the notebook for emphasis—“explains it?”
Susannah looked broken. Miserable. “Partly,” she answered, in a near whisper.
Ian reached across the table and took her hand, held it with gentle firmness. Waited.
Tears slipped down her cheeks.
“Go on,” Ian urged, after a few moments, still holding her hand.
“Last night, I had this nightmare,” Susannah began, looking everywhere but at him as she spoke. “It sparked a memory—not right away, but eventually, and that memory started unfolding—”
Ian nodded. Remained silent.
“I know what happened,” Susannah murmured.
This time, Ian couldn’t restrain himself. He stood up, eased Susannah to her feet, and pulled her into his arms.
She hesitated, stiffened slightly, then relaxed into his embrace, resting her forehead against his chest. It was then, odd as it seemed, that Ian first realized he loved this woman.
It didn’t matter that he barely knew her; something within her joined with something in him, and he realized then that nothing would ever be the same.
Of course, he knew he would have to think about the attraction he felt toward Susannah later. Right now, she was suffering, and he would have done just about anything to help her.
His lips moved softly against her right temple as he spoke to her.
“I’m listening, Susannah.”
She gave a choking sob and wrapped her arms around him. Allowed herself to cling a little.
And it deepened then, that sense of something strong and good connecting them at the deepest possible level.
“Becky’s gone through all this because of me!” she whisper-cried, clearly aware that the kids might come inside at any moment. “It was to protect me!”
Ian kissed the top of Susannah’s head, then took a light hold on her shoulders and lowered her back into her chair.
Susannah cast an anxious glance toward the open door. Through the screen, the children and Dub were visible, running in circles.
Ian sighed affectionately and took Susannah’s hand again. “Tell me,” he reiterated, his voice gravelly.
It was sinking in by then that Susannah must trust him a lot, if she was willing to confide her troubles to him like this.
That was when Susannah began to relate her—and Becky’s—story.
Ian had seen and heard a lot, as a paramedic, but this tale pinned him to his chair like an arrow shot straight through his heart.
Susannah talked, and he listened.
It was an evil tale, a tale of deception, cruelty and fear, and, listening to it, then scanning the confirming pages in the battered little notebook, Ian wanted to track down the person responsible and wear out his fists on them.
“My God,” he muttered, when Susannah had finished.
She was clearly exhausted, shoulders drooping, head down.
Natural as anything, Ian pulled her onto his lap.
“I don’t know what to do,” she said, her voice muffled by the side of his neck.
“To start with,” Ian responded, stroking her back, “we’re going to talk to Becky. Maybe she’ll open up a little, once she knows we’ve figured things out. After that, we’ll go to the police.”
Susannah nodded, but didn’t lift her head.
Ian was glad of that, because she would have seen the barely contained fury in his eyes.
“Why did she keep this to herself?” she whispered finally, sounding even more miserable than before.
“Because the jerk threatened you,” Ian replied softly. “He was a threat to Becky as well, and then to Ellie. He probably told her he’d kill one or all of the people she loved, if she spoke out.”
“But she married him ,” Susannah agonized. “How could she have done that?”
“Maybe she didn’t think she had a choice,” Ian answered.
Then, he got to his feet, reached for his phone and placed a call to Erma Carlson, asking if she’d mind looking after Vivian, Mabel and Ellie for a few hours.
He didn’t offer an explanation, but Erma must have guessed, perhaps from his tone, that there was something serious going on.
Erma kindly agreed, telling Ian she was coming straight to his place, and she’d stay as long as she was needed.
Ian thanked her, considering calling the police, and decided to put that off until he and Susannah knew more.