Promise Canyon (Virgin River #13)(20)

"Didn't you eat well in Los Angeles County?" Ursula asked.

"On my own, it was only what I could throw together quickly, and I'm very lazy. When Isabel invited me to dinner, her cook served tiny bites of funny-looking food because Isabel worried constantly about her weight. So the answer is no--I did not eat well!"

There was a moment of silence before Ursula said, "How is Isabel, Clay?"

He trained his voice to sincerity. "She's just fine, Ursula. Her life has hardly changed. She was the one who needed a divorce. The marriage wasn't working for her. I understood perfectly."

Another moment of silence. "This is a better place for you, I think," Ursula said.

He grinned at his sister. "I agree. I'm very excited about Nathaniel's plans. And it's good to be near family." He took a breath. "I have a favor to ask. Would you like to discuss it in private?"

"Is it obscene?" she countered.

He swallowed. "I want to bring Gabe out here. I wish I could have him live with me, but that's not possible where I'm living right now. So I'm wondering if he could live with you. That way at least I could see him every day. I'd like him to do his last year of high school at your kids' school. I want to start training him as a farrier, if he's interested, but more important, I want him to live with two professionals, two college graduates who encouraged his cousins to go to college." He looked away just briefly, then back at his sister and brother-in-law. "It's time. It's past time. I hope I haven't waited too long."

Ursula reached across the table and covered Clay's hand with her own. "You know nothing could make me happier."

Then Lincoln's voice, loud and stern, boomed across the table. "The boy will thrive here, even though he's Navajo."

The entire family laughed softly, respectfully. There was no bad blood between Cherokee and Navajo, but they each thought themselves a bit more evolved, wiser, stronger.

"I agree, sir. Thank you for that welcoming remark. I know my parents, aunts and uncles have done a fine job raising him while I've been trying to set up a life, but I'm planning to be here for the long haul, and I'd love to finally have a normal father-son relationship with Gabe. I haven't been with him enough."

"You were young, Clay. And you did very well as a father. Gabe hasn't suffered. He had good role models and he was raised with love and every advantage."

Clay looked at his sister and whispered, "Thank you, Ursula."

"No," she said, "thank you! I love that boy."

Much later, after coffee and some of the best pie imaginable, Ursula walked Clay out to his truck. "I meant what I said, you know. I'm so glad you're here and I hope this works for you. I want you close and happy. And I want you to have the life you want with your son, finally."

"I think that will be the case," he said. But what he thought was, The life I really want is yours. The life I thought I'd have, filled with family and intimacy and friendship and trust. It happens around your table and I always dreamed my table would be the same.

He pushed the self-pitying thoughts from his mind. "I'm very glad to be near you and your family again," he said. "But I don't like your husband's haircut."

"I don't know what possessed him," she said, looking over her shoulder as if Tom might be there, listening. "He said he's tired of it. Lincoln gave him a lot of shit."

Clay lifted his dark brows. "Nice talk for the police chief's wife."

"Aw, cut me some slack--I'm not around the elders or children and I bet you've heard that word before." Then she grinned. "Clay, you know I've wanted Gabe here with me since he was little. I know Father was right, that I should concentrate on my own children and I know Gabe did well with the Tahomas, but I want you to know, this is as happy a day for me as for you."

"If he'll come," Clay said. "I won't force him. He's been on the reservation a long time and it's a safe place for him."

"He'll come," she said, giving him a reassuring smile. "He might be comfortable where he is, but when he's with you he comes alive. He wants to be with his father. This is a very good thing--for all of us."

Clay smiled. "I'm glad you're happy about it, Ursula. Because I've heard Tom say that when you're happy, everyone is happy."

"It's true," she said, not embarrassed in the least by that comment. "How soon can he be here?"

"Let me call him tomorrow and let you know."

"Thank you, Clay. Thank you for trusting me with your son."

He felt a small surge in his breast; he was so proud of his sister. She was a good woman, a good wife, a good mother. He grabbed her to him, held her tight and said, "Thank you, Ursula. I love you like a sister."

She laughed and hugged him. Hard.

Except for visiting his father out in L.A. a few times, Gabe's home since his birth had been with his grandparents. Clay had hoped for this day for a very long time, the day he could offer his son a home at least close enough that they could see each other every day. It was tempting to head for the reservation, gather up his boy and bring him back to California. But Gabe was a young man now--a seventeen-year-old; it would be selfish of Clay to insist on this change if it wasn't in his son's best interest, if it wouldn't make him happy. So rather than traveling out there, he called.