Seven Birthday Wishes
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Melissa Senate
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16,1K
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18
Chapter One
“Guess what, Mommy?” seven-year-old Cody Dawson called as he leaped off the school bus in front of the gates to the Dawson Family Guest Ranch. “You’ll never guess, that’s what!”
Annabel Dawson smiled at her son and waved at the bus driver, who turned the big yellow rig around and headed back up the long drive. 3:38 p.m. was her favorite time of day—when she met Cody at the gates and they walked the quarter mile to their cabin. One of the perks of working at her cousin’s dude ranch was that it was so family-friendly; Annabel’s hours as a wilderness tour guide for guests were structured around Cody’s school day. She didn’t work nights or weekends. A single mother, Annabel was grateful for her six cousins who owned the ranch and had welcomed her with a job, a cozy cabin and subsidized on-site day care when Cody was six months old.
“Hmm, you got a hundred on your spelling test?” she asked, leaning down to give Cody a hug.
“Actually, I got two wrong,” he said. “But no, that’s not it!” He jumped up and down in excitement, his mop of light brown hair flopping in the early-June breeze. “Guess again!”
“Someone traded you their chocolate chip cookies for your red grapes at lunch?” she tried.
“Mommy, be serious! Who would do that?”
She laughed. “Your loose tooth came out? Should I expect the tooth fairy to visit tonight while you’re sleeping?”
A finger went to the wobbly bottom tooth. “Nope, still there! Guess again!”
“Hmm, I think you’re just gonna have to tell me the big news,” she said as they headed through the ornate wrought iron gates of the ranch. “I’m all out of guesses.”
“Okay, I will!” he said, his bright smile and utter happiness making her day—and she’d had a rough start.
A little girl on one of her group tours in the woods had refused to take another step or listen to her parents, who’d tried to coax her into moving with offers of a brownie from the ranch’s cafeteria. That didn’t work and the girl ran off the path into the brush, crying that she was getting scratched by leafy branches. The father chased after her, came out with the girl sobbing in his arms, and Annabel heard later that both daughter and father had gotten poison ivy. Annabel had visited their cabin not fifteen minutes ago with a “treat” basket that the guest relations manager, her cousin Daisy, had helped her create. The Selman family, including the mother, who’d been holding a tube of calamine lotion when she opened the door, looked positively miserable. And then on a late-morning tour, a teenager had screamed, “Grizzly!” and pointed toward the woods, and everyone had freaked out, despite the teen bursting into laughter and doubling over a second later. Yeah, real funny. Yup, it had been that kind of day.
“The best thing happened at school!” Cody said, grabbing her hand and pulling her to a bench across from the Welcome Hut. After shrugging out of his backpack, he dropped it on the bench and rummaged through it to pull out his blue take-home folder. “Look in there!” he said, jumping up and down and spinning around.
Wow. This had to be good. Maybe there was a special event planned for the end of the school year? An exciting field trip or color war before summer break in three weeks?
She opened the folder and looked through it. There was his reading log, then a permission slip to a field trip to this very ranch’s petting zoo during the last week of school and then a returned homework assignment: My Hero. There was a gold star at the top and a note from his teacher attached to it.
Annabel inwardly sighed, a little lump forming in her throat as one had every time she’d dealt with this assignment. My hero is Logan Winston, the essay began, Cody’s careful handwriting in pencil taking up just six lines.
When Cody had come home with the assignment in his folder last week, she’d instantly known he’d write about Logan. She’d barely gotten through her son thinking out loud as he’d decided what he wanted to say in his essay. And for a second grader, each sentence took a lot of thinking, a lot of time, a lot of consulting his spelling lists. When she’d read the finished essay, the sweetness—and her secret—hit her hard.
Logan Winston had been her son’s hero for a couple of years now, ever since her father had taken his grandson on a surprise trip to the rodeo. The champion bull rider with the trademark black Stetson with its studded silver leather band had legions of fans of all ages.
Annabel wasn’t one of them. She used to be, though. Way before he’d ever won a competition.
If she’d known her dad was going to take Cody to his first rodeo when the state championships were held a few towns over, she probably would have come up with some excuse why they shouldn’t go. Ever since, Cody mentioned Logan Winston at least once a day. His old rodeo tickets were all neatly pinned on the corkboard above his desk. He had a Logan Winston lunch box. A Logan Winston T-shirt. A Logan Winston poster on his bedroom wall—which Annabel was always careful not to look at.
Logan Winston was Cody’s father. And Annabel was the only person in the world who knew.
I hope I get to meet Logan Winston someday, Cody had said a bunch of times the past two years while she’d tuck him in, his gaze dreamy on the poster. It was especially then that Annabel’s own eyes would start stinging with tears. Her son’s hero was the father he also asked about more and more these days.
What do you think my daddy is doing right now? Cody had asked two nights ago during his bubble bath, dueling cowboy figurines in his hands.
Living his dream, she’d think, unsure, as always, if she’d done the right thing by never informing Logan he had a child.
If he knew about you, he’d be thinking about you right now, she’d said to Cody, and he seemed satisfied with that. She’d told her son the basic truth—that she hadn’t known she was pregnant with him when his father had left town and she hadn’t known how to reach him.
But that had only been true till the end of her pregnancy, when Logan Winston had started making a name for himself. She’d been eighteen years old, nine months pregnant, her parents supportive but doing a lot of deep sighing, when she’d seen Logan’s face on the front page of the Bear Ridge Free Weekly—Hometown Bull Rider Is Now 10-0! Every day she’d think about trying to get in touch. But she’d always come back to what he’d said the night before he’d left.
I never want kids. Ever.
“Mommy, I’ll bet Logan Winston sees my essay on the front page of the newspaper tomorrow!” Cody said excitedly. He spun around and then crouched down as if on the back of a bull, one hand on the rope, the other in the air, like his hero.
Wait, what? Front page? That was when Annabel actually read the note attached to the returned essay from Cody’s teacher, Ms. Gattano.
Hi Annabel! Exciting news! I sent the kids’ essays to the Wyoming Gazette and not only are they printing photos of all fourteen kids holding up their essays in the People and Community page tomorrow, but they’ve chosen to feature Cody’s photo and essay on the front page tomorrow alongside an article about Logan Winston. Wow! Cody is so excited! Don’t miss the paper tomorrow!—Ms. G.
Annabel’s hand flew to her mouth. Oh God. Oh boy. Oh whoa.
The Wyoming Gazette was a major daily newspaper. Everyone had a Wyoming Gazette delivery box next to their mailbox. Everyone read the Gazette.
Her heart started hammering.
“I know, Mommy!” Cody said, jumping up and down again. “My hero is gonna see my essay for sure!”
Would he? She bit her lip. She highly doubted Logan Winston read his own press anymore. This kind of feature in the Gazette had to be everyday stuff for him. He certainly hadn’t seemed interested in the news, local or otherwise, when they’d dated those three short days. He’d seemed only interested in her, bull riding and working as a cowboy at the Sattler Ranch, a huge operation where there was always overtime, so he could pay for practice time.
He had to be way too busy these days. Annabel had long stopped following his career; she only had in the beginning, six, seven years ago because she’d been so proud of him. Hurt, yes, but proud nonetheless. He’d done it. Dreams he could barely mention aloud because they seemed so far-fetched to him had actually come true—and then some. Almost eight years ago, as a beginner, he’d never lasted the eight seconds on the back of a bull. But when he left Bear Ridge—and her—he’d started placing in competitions. Within a year, she’d seen another article about him in the county-wide newspaper: Local Bull Rider Wins Big at the Bear County Rodeo.
Within two years, he was on the front page of the Wyoming Gazette—and often. And these days, he was a superstar, a champion no one could touch in the arena in terms of control, command and style. Add in his good looks and Logan Winston was a town, state and western regional hero whose events sold out far in advance.
Even if he did see the front page of the Gazette, even if he did read the essay by a little kid who hero-worshipped him, he wouldn’t necessarily connect the last name with the girl he’d known for three days almost eight years ago.
The girl he’d unknowingly left pregnant.
Bear Ridge was full of Dawsons, and Cody Dawson could be any of their sons.
Logan Winston, superstar bull rider, would not connect the dots. Or likely even notice them in the first place.
As they approached their cabin, which was nestled into a stand of trees across the wide path from the petting zoo, Annabel could see her mom sitting on the porch swing. Dinah Dawson’s face was lifted to the bright summer sunshine, silvery-blond bob gleaming.
Oh, thank God, Annabel thought. Her mom sometimes surprised them with a visit after school. If there was anyone she needed to talk to right now, it was Dinah Dawson.
“Grammy, guess what?” Cody called out when he noticed her, running ahead up the steps.
“What?” Dinah asked, popping up to wrap her grandson in a big hug and give him a loud smooch on his head. There was a telltale white bag beside the porch swing with the gold Bear Ridge Bakery logo on it.
“My homework essay about my hero is going to be in the newspaper!” Cody announced.
“Wow!” Dinah said. “How exciting! I don’t have to guess who your hero is. Logan Winston, am I right?”
Cody gave a big nod. “He’s the GOAT of bull riders! That means greatest of all time, Grammy.”
Grammy grinned and ruffled Cody’s hair. “And you are the GOAT of grandsons!”
Cody giggled and ran inside the cabin, her mom picking up the bakery bag and following him. Annabel took a deep breath and headed in. Cody rushed for the laptop on the desk in the living room. “Mommy, can I watch the video of Logan’s wins?”
“Sure,” she called. He’d only watched it fifty times since his grandfather had shot it from the stands at the last rodeo they’d gone to. Her dad was gone now; they’d lost him just seven months after that rodeo. Every time Cody watched it, it was her dad who Annabel thought of, her dad who had the grip of her memories. Somehow, that made it bittersweet instead of downright difficult when the announcer would give his second-by-second account of Logan’s every move, from his expression to his free hand to the one on the rope.
Her mom followed her into the kitchen and beelined for the coffee maker. She held up the bakery bag and opened it, showing Annabel the goodies inside—her favorite tart—chocolate cream—a mixed-berry scone for Annabel and a peanut butter cookie for Cody. Annabel grabbed a string cheese from the fridge and a clementine and brought the snack over to Cody, who was entranced by the video.
Oh God, oh God, oh God, she thought, her knees suddenly shaking. She hurried back into the kitchen and dropped down on a chair at the table.
“Annabel? You okay?” her mom asked, tilting her head and looking at her. “You look kind of...sickish.”
“I’m not really okay,” she whispered. She let out a breath and bit her lip and looked everywhere but her mother’s face. “I mean, I’m okay, Cody’s okay. Something’s just...come up.”
Her mother’s eyes widened. “Oooh boy, let’s sit down with our coffee and goodies and you’ll tell me everything.”
Annabel nodded but she wasn’t sure she would tell. How did you just blurt out something so...big after seven years?
Her mother poured two coffees and fixed them up, plopped the treats on a plate, and sat down beside Annabel, whose legs were still shaking. She popped up and grabbed Cody’s backpack from the hook beside the front door, taking a peek at him as she went back into the kitchen. He’d restarted the video, which her dad had mixed with others of Logan’s competitions. He’d be set for a bit.
“Okay,” Annabel said, sitting back down with the folder. She took out the essay and pointed at the note from the teacher.
Her mom read it, then looked at Annabel. “But that’s great! So what’s wrong?”
Annabel shook her head. She closed her eyes for a second.
“Annabel, honeybun, what’s going on?” Dinah whispered, scooting her chair a little closer. She strained her neck to see into the living room, as did Annabel. Cody was still entranced by the video and she had no doubt he’d watch it again.
Was she just going to come out with it? Say the words out loud after keeping the secret all these years? Her mouth was dry. She took a fast sip of her coffee, then a deep breath.
She’d never forget the day she discovered she was pregnant. She’d been taking two classes at the local college in animal husbandry and agriculture while working at a nearby ranch and she realized her period was really late. It never was. So she’d bought a home pregnancy test—she’d driven to the next town because everyone in Bear Ridge knew one another. She’d taken the test, following the directions to a tee, expecting not to see an orange plus sign appear in the second window.
It appeared.
She’d been shocked and took the second test in the box.
For an hour she’d hidden in her room, scared, crying, a mess. And when her mom called her down to help with dinner prep, she’d blurted out the news.
Dinah had pulled her eighteen-year-old daughter into an embrace, told her everything would be okay, then had asked who the father was. Tears streaming down her face, Annabel had told the truth: that he was someone she’d had a very brief romance with but he’d left town. She didn’t mention his name; Logan had been a few years older and had a reputation for getting into trouble with the law.
You call him right this minute, Dinah had said. Let him know you have something important to tell him.
Annabel had pulled out her phone. She’d pressed in the numbers. Then panicked and clicked End Call. That had gone on for a full minute.
She’d told her mom how one of the last things he’d said to her was that he didn’t want kids ever. No responsibilities, no ties, no way to disappoint anyone who’d count on me.
Dinah had raised an eyebrow. The guy is the father of your baby whether he wants to be or not.
Annabel had ignored the ache in her chest. The raw, burning strain in her throat. And made the call.
The number you have reached is a nonworking number...
She’d tried it again. And a third time, just in case she’d entered it wrong out of nerves.
The number you have reached...
She’d been so shocked, so...hurt, that she’d just handed the phone to her mother and sobbed. He’d been gone six weeks by then and clearly had cut all ties to Bear Ridge if he’d disconnected his cell phone.
Well, maybe he’ll come back, her mother had said, biting her lip.
Now Annabel looked at the teacher’s note again. She took another sip of coffee.
Say it. Tell her.
Annabel tapped the essay—right next to the first line. My hero is Logan Winston... “Logan Winston is Cody’s father,” she whispered.
Her mother gasped, then slapped her hand over mouth, leaning back to strain her neck to make sure Cody was occupied. “No,” she said in disbelief.
Annabel nodded.
She whispered the short story of their romance, gulping down some more coffee, her appetite gone for the scone. How the night before he’d left, they’d taken a picnic to Clover Mountain and she’d felt so madly in love. He’d surprised her by taking her to a B and B in the more bustling town twenty minutes away, which back then had required telling her mom a fib about where she was spending the night. Then he’d gotten a phone call that had poured cold water on him for a little while, Logan seeming agitated and disgruntled but refusing to talk about it. He’d gone onto their balcony and stared up at the stars for a few minutes, and had apologized and said he was damned lucky to be here with her and she was all that mattered. But as they’d talked about their hopes and dreams, and she’d mentioned she wanted a big family someday, four or five kids because she was an only, he’d blurted out what he had about kids. About ties and how he didn’t want them. In the morning he’d texted her that he was sorry, he really liked her, but he had to get out of Bear Ridge, that the town was killing him and he’d just end up in jail or dead if he stayed.
“Six weeks later,” Annabel said, “I was late and finally took a home pregnancy test. You know the rest now.”
“Oh, Annabel.” Her mom leaned over to pull her into a hug.
The embrace felt so good. Dinah had been full of extra hugs ever since the day Annabel had revealed her pregnancy. Her mother had told her father, who’d then knocked on Annabel’s door and just hugged her and said that everything would be okay, not necessarily easy anymore, but okay. Wonderful, even, he’d added. She missed her dad so much.
“So when you could get in touch with Logan, you just...couldn’t?” her mom asked.
Annabel nodded. “I kept remembering what he’d said about not wanting kids, how he’d changed his number. How his dreams were all coming true. So I kept my secret. He never came back to Bear Ridge, as far as I know. Even when his father died last year. And I watched him become a bigger and bigger celebrity to the point that he stopped seeming real, you know?”
“He didn’t come home for his father’s funeral?” her mother asked. “I think I’d read somewhere that his mother died when he was ten years old?”
Annabel nodded. “I guess his father was part of the problems he had in Bear Ridge. Must have been big for him not to go to his funeral. He’d told me that he and his father had never gotten along, but he didn’t elaborate. I remember him telling me how lucky I was that I was close to my parents.”
Dinah reached over to squeeze Annabel’s hand. “It must have been so hard when Cody started hero-worshipping him.”
Annabel nodded. “I felt terrible. I was bursting with the truth. So many times I almost broke down to tell you, Mom. But I’d get gripped by fear, that too much time had passed, that people would think I was coming forward because Logan was famous. I know that’s cowardly, but I was just so scared. And now it’s been almost eight years.”
Her mom drained the rest of her coffee. “Well, just like I said when you told me you were pregnant, he is the father. He should know about Cody. And Cody should know about him. This whole thing with the essay and the Wyoming Gazette? It’s the universe’s way of telling you it’s time.”
Annabel could barely breathe.
It was time.
