Linda Warren - A Texas Family

“It comes and goes. Today’s a bad day. She’ll wake up and be almost normal. It’s strange.”

“She shouldn’t be left by herself.”

Hilary shrugged. “I don’t have much choice. I have to work, but I check on her all the time. It’s not that far to the café, and the good thing is she won’t leave the house. This is familiar, and if I force her outside for fresh air she gets all nervous.”

“We have to talk about this, Hil.”

“I’m not putting her in a home,” Hilary said with a stubborn lift of her chin.

Jena didn’t want to do that, either, but they’d have to have a serious conversation soon.

“Enough with the depressing thoughts.” Hil jerked off her boots and socks. “I want to try on those shoes. Off with them.”

Jena smiled and really looked at her sister’s attire for the first time. She wore a denim skirt that flared out around her thighs, a red-and-white-check blouse and cowgirl boots with red tops. Bracelets dangled on her wrist; large silver earrings hung from her ears. She looked as if she was going square dancing.

Undoing the tiny strap around her ankles, Jena said, “Love the outfit.”

“I make sure no one forgets me.” Hilary slipped on the four-inch heels. “Wow.” She tottered across the living room and then mimicked the walk of a runway model, tripped and fell onto the sofa, laughing. “How do you walk in these things?”

“You get used to it, and I have to dress nice for my job.”

“Oh, yeah, the big attorney.”

Jena didn’t miss the sarcastic tone. “He’s been nice to me, Hil.”

“You deserve it, Jen-Jen.”

She felt a warm glow at the nickname her sister had given her.

Hilary placed the shoes on the coffee table. “I saw the Accord parked at Carson’s. A lot of people did and wondered who you were. I didn’t say anything.”

“I don’t care who knows I’m back.”

Hilary played with the hem of her skirt. “They’ll wonder about the baby.”

Hearing the fear in her sister’s voice, she got up and sat by her on the sofa. “It doesn’t matter. The truth is going to come out.”

“What did Carson say?”

“Not much. I told him I want to see my child and he could either get the information from his father or the authorities would. I’m not afraid of them anymore.”

Hilary continued to pick at the hem. “Sometimes I have nightmares about that night.”

“Me, too,” she murmured as her stomach cramped.

“Mama and I were so worried. You didn’t come home from your shift at the convenience store. Just as we were getting ready to go look for you, Roland Stubbs and Curly Sanders dragged you into the house. Your clothes were bloody. Roland said, ‘Get her out of town before Asa kills her.’”

Hilary took a breath. “Then you told us what had happened, and Mama was furious. She put you to bed and borrowed Mrs. Carter’s car because the sheriff had seized Dad’s truck for evidence. She and I went to the Bar C. She demanded the baby, and Asa pushed her against one of those huge pillars on the porch and threatened to kill all of us. He didn’t care, he said. His son was dead.”

Jena wanted her to stop talking. She didn’t want to remember, but in truth she thought of that horrible night vividly almost every day. And every night.

“We came home, and Mama called cousin Nan in Dallas, and she drove through the night to get you out of Willow Creek. You lay on the backseat in a blanket and cried the whole way. I cried, too.”

Jena wrapped her arms around her waist to still the trembling.

“Cousin Nan said you could stay with her, and Mama gave her some money. I don’t know where she got it. Funny how I remember that. Mama and I returned to Willow Creek, and I didn’t realize until weeks later that you weren’t coming back. I cried myself to sleep that night.” Hil wiped away an errant tear. “For weeks I looked for newborn babies in Willow Creek. There weren’t any, except with women who had been pregnant. Do you...don’t get upset...do you think Asa might have killed it?”

Jena tensed. “Sometimes. But I don’t think even Asa could have been so cruel as to kill the baby if he thought there was a chance it was Jared’s child.”

“But he’s crazy.”

Jena stood, needing to move to stop the flood of memories.

“Jen-Jen?”

“Hmm?”

“I know you’re set on finding your baby, and I would be, too, but have you thought the child would be almost nine years old now and probably with a family who loves it dearly?”

“I’ve thought of a million scenarios.”

“It’s been a long time. You have a good life in Dallas. Wouldn’t it be best to leave the past in the past?”

“I have to know where my child is.”

“I’m afraid you’re going to get hurt again.”

“Maybe, but I’m not young and scared anymore. It’s illegal, even in Willow Creek, to steal someone’s baby, and Asa Corbett is going to pay for what he did.”

She’d come back for revenge, just as she’d told Carson. She now had access to resources for justice, and she intended to make that happen—with or without the constable’s help.

CHAPTER TWO

EVERY TIME CARSON drove under the wrought-iron arch for the Bar C Ranch, his chest filled with pride, which was quickly replaced with anger for a brief second. When he’d finished his tour of duty, he was excited to see his wife and son again. And to be there for his dad, who Beth had said had sunk into deep depression since Jared’s death. But that was just one of Carson’s many worries.

Even before Jared was murdered, Asa had turned over the reins of the ranch to Roland Stubbs, allowing him to sign checks. That was a big mistake. Roland sold all the cattle, horses, equipment and drained the ranch bank account. All that was left was the house, barns and land.

Carson’s return home was bittersweet. His dad sat brooding in his chair and didn’t show much interest in the ranch or in his daughter-in-law or grandson. Beth had been dealing with a newborn and hadn’t noticed anything strange going on except for the cattle trailers going in and out, which she’d thought was normal ranching business.

He’d contacted the sheriff, and Roland and Curly Sanders were soon arrested and convicted. Curly was released last year, but Roland would be in prison for some time to come. When Jena had mentioned goons, he’d had a bad feeling in his gut. Those two were ruthless enough to do anything.

He never quite understood his dad’s reasoning in handing the ranch’s responsibilities to Roland. He’d said it was Carson’s fault for not being here. The Bar C was his legacy, and neither he nor Jared showed any respect for what he’d built. So if the ranch was in trouble Carson had only himself to blame.

But Carson accepted only so much of that blame. According to Beth, his dad was spending a lot of time with a lady he kept in Austin. That meant he’d been ignoring his business, which had allowed Roland to weasel his way into a cushy job. As long as Asa saw money rolling in, he hadn’t questioned Roland or his activities.

“Dad, you better get your money ready,” Trey said from the passenger seat. “I made all A’s again, and it’s five bucks for every A. Remember?”

“What?”

“Dad.” Trey sighed. “You’re not listening.”

“Five bucks for every A. I got it.”

“Me, too, Daddy,” Claire said from her car seat in the back.

“You got it, princess.” He looked in the rearview mirror at his blonde beauty. She looked just like her mother except she had green eyes like him, as did Trey.

“You don’t get grades,” Trey told her. “You’re too little.”

“Am not.”

“Are, too.”

Carson held up his hand. “Enough. What are you going to do with your money, Trey?”