Trish Milburn - The Texan's Cowgirl Bride

Savannah could tell by the strained tone of Lizzie’s voice that the memories hurt her sister, and she was suddenly sorry for dredging them up. After the scare Lizzie had endured when she’d started spotting early in her pregnancy, she didn’t need anything to stress her out. There had to be another way to find the information Savannah needed. She let the subject drop, but it left an awkwardness hanging between her and Lizzie.

“I’m sorry, but I’ve got to run,” Lizzie said as she stood. “I’ve got a conference call in a few minutes.”

Savannah stood and hugged her sister. “Sorry if I ruined lunch.”

“You didn’t.”

Savannah wasn’t so sure as she watched her sister walk toward the exit, her shoulders tense.

After paying the bill, Savannah followed in her sister’s wake, walking slowly down the sidewalk toward where she’d parked. Even though people passed by her going both directions, business people, tourists, shoppers, she couldn’t recall ever feeling so alone. It was an odd feeling for someone who’d often found comfort in solitude, but then it had always been on her terms, in familiar surroundings. A solo ride or getting lost in baking or crafting was a nice reprieve sometimes. Now, the weight of all she hid, of the unknown, hung inside her. She yearned for some lessening of the pressure.

But telling anyone in her family about her fears wouldn’t help. In fact, she had no doubt that they would smother her with caring, with questions, with the inability to give her space when she needed it. What they couldn’t give her were the answers she needed. No one could except the one family member who was no longer a part of her life.

She slid into her truck and leaned her head back to stare at the ceiling. How did you find a person who obviously didn’t want to be found?

Travis’s smiling face materialized in her mind, causing her to jerk upright. Could he be the answer to her problem? She’d never been much of a believer in any fate other than what a person made for herself, but what were the odds she’d cross paths with a private investigator, one she knew, right when she needed help finding her mother?

She grabbed her phone and did a search for Travis’s P.I. firm. When she found the number, all she could do was stare at it. Did she really want to do this? Couldn’t she just wait and find out about her condition once the test results were back? Finding out her family history wasn’t going to change the end result one way or another.

But that wasn’t all that was going on, was it?

She might have been telling herself for the past two days that the reason she needed to find Delia Baron was medical, but that wasn’t the only reason. After years of keeping her feelings about her mom buried so deep she’d forgotten they even existed, that stupid lump in her breast had brought them surging to the surface. She needed to find her mother and ask the one question that really mattered.

Why did you leave us?

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