Linda Warren - A Texas Family

“I have to check something in the basement first.”

“We caught that mouse.”

“I’m just checking.” He took the narrow steps two at a time. It was dark now, so he moved slowly when he got to the bottom, reaching for the string. He pulled it and light flooded the basement. Everything was just as she’d described. He walked toward the left side of the room and saw it. A large dark spot—her blood.

Oh, God. A pain shot through him. She wasn’t lying. She’d given birth in this basement. What had his father done with the child?

* * *

JENA PUSHED THE mower to the shed in the back. It was too dark to mow now. Her mind was filled with thoughts of her conversation with Carson. Even as farfetched as her story sounded, she got the feeling he believed her. And, to her dismay, she understood his reluctance to talk to his father.

For years she’d dreamed of revenge, but after a few hours in Willow Creek she was surprised to find her desire for it wasn’t as strong as before. She needed only peace now. Asa Corbett was already in hell—stoking the fire would accomplish nothing. She just wanted information about her child. Carson would get that.

Jared had often said his older brother was the heroic type, the kind who would rescue a kitten from a burning building without any thought to his own safety. He was honest and straightforward. Jena had already sensed those qualities in him. Even though it would hurt his family, he would do the right thing. He’d confront his father.

Jena had to put her trust in Carson, and she found the thought oddly disturbing and uplifting at the same time.

Hilary swerved into the driveway, headlights blinding Jena. Jumping out, Hil said, “Hey, sis, I brought chicken-fried steaks for supper.”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve had Mabel’s chicken-fried steak.”

“Then you’re in for a treat. I brought chocolate pie with mile-high meringue, too.”

They walked toward the steps, and Hil suddenly stopped. “Didn’t get the yard mowed, huh?”

“Why didn’t you buy a self-propelled mower?”

Hil shrugged. “They cost more, and the guys usually mow, but they’ve been busy. I thought I’d get it done by the time you arrived.”

“I did the back, and, believe me, my muscles will be protesting tomorrow. As I was pushing that blasted thing to the front, the constable drove up.”

“What did Carson want?”

“To ask questions about that night.”

“Is he going to do anything?”

“Yes. I believe he is.”

“Hmm. You sound different than you did this morning. Are you developing a soft spot for the constable?”

“Of course not. Don’t be silly.”

“If you say so. But he’s s-o-o good-looking if you like tall, strong and masculine.”

“Shut up.” She held the door open and Hil laughed, walking inside.

“Hey, Mama, time for supper,” Hil shouted.

Norma clicked off the television. “I wondered where you girls were.”

“She seems fine,” Hil whispered in the kitchen.

“She’s been that way all afternoon.”

“Told you. It comes and goes.”

Hil ran around the kitchen in her cute cowgirl boots like a bunny on steroids, putting the meal on the table and fixing tea.

“How much coffee have you had today?”

“Enough.” Hil made a face.

They sat around the old Formica-and-chrome table and ate. It was reminiscent of better times. Before her dad started drinking heavily. Before Jared. Before...

“It’s nice to have my oldest home,” Norma said. “I was going to bake a cake, but I couldn’t get the stove to work.”

“It’s just temperamental,” Hil replied. “I can make it work, but I brought food and pie. We’re good.”

“Okay.” Norma continued to eat, but Jena noticed a change in her. She became quiet and stared at the refrigerator. Wrapping her arms around her waist, Norma mumbled, “It’s getting chilly. We’ll probably have ice in the morning. I saw on the TV it was snowing somewhere.”

Hil choked on her pie, coughed and took a quick gulp of tea. “What the hell was she watching?” Hil mouthed.

“Wheel of Fortune,” Jena mouthed back.

Hil shrugged. “It’s not that chilly, Mama.”

“I wonder where my flannel gown is.” Their mother stood and meandered to her room.

They cleaned the table and put the containers in plastic bags. “I’ll take the trash to the café in the morning.” Hil tied the top of the bag into a knot.

“What do we do about Mama?” Jena asked.

“I don’t know. I just agree with whatever she says. That seems to work best.”

They went to their mother’s bedroom and found her standing near the bed in a flannel nightgown, looking confused. “Where’s my electric blanket, Hilary?”

“It’s on the bed.” Hil winked at Jena.

“Good. I wanted to take a bath, but it’s just too cold.”

“That’s okay, Mama.” Hil helped her into bed.

“Is the blanket on?”

Hil knelt and pretended to fiddle with something. “How’s that?”

“Much better.”

Her sister got to her feet and kissed their mother. “Night.”

“Now, don’t you girls talk all night. You have school tomorrow.”

“We won’t.”

Her mother was in another time and another place. Maybe after all she’d been through it was a better place for her. And she had the resilient strength of Hilary to help her. Once again Jena was amazed at her sister’s patience and compassion.

She kissed her mother’s forehead. “Night, Mama.”

“I’m so happy to have my beautiful daughter home.”

“Hey. What am I? The ugly duckling?” Hil teased.

“You’re my sweet, good daughter.”

Hil flicked off the light. “Yeah, like that’s gonna get me a date with Ryan Reynolds?”

“The actor?” Jena asked as they walked out.

“Yeah.”

“Isn’t he married?”

“So? I’m not picky.”

“You’re a nut.”

Before Hil could respond, Jena’s cell buzzed, and she ran into the bedroom to get it. “It’s Blake,” she said.

“I’ll take a bath and give you some privacy.” Grabbing a T-shirt out of a drawer, Hil disappeared into the bathroom.

“Hi, Blake.” She sat on the bed.

“I was getting worried. You didn’t call.”

“I didn’t realize you wanted me to.”

“Of course. I worry about you going back to that place.”

“I’m fine.”

“Did you talk to the constable?”

“Yes, and he’s being very cooperative.”

“I don’t know why you don’t let me handle it. Then you wouldn’t have to go back there.”

She drew a deep breath. Blake was a master manipulator. “My mother and my sister are here, and I wanted to see them. If I need help, you’ll be the first person I call.”

There was a long pause. “The office is not the same without you.”

“I’ve been gone one day.”

“It feels like a month.”

She gripped her phone. Blake was ten years her senior and good to her, but he tended to push too hard and that immediately sent alarms sounding through her. When she’d started working for Blake’s firm, she was hired as a receptionist, and she was happy to get the job. It paid well. Then one evening Blake and his team were working a major high-profile case and one of the assistants called in sick. Blake’s secretary asked if she could stay late and help out.

The next day Blake complimented her on her hard work and that made her feel good about herself. The personal assistant who’d been ill soon quit because she was having a difficult pregnancy. Blake offered Jena the job, and she’d gladly accepted. Her job was basically being at Blake’s beck and call. Between his secretary and Jena, they kept him on track and on time. Jena usually joined the entourage who went with him to court, and she loved that part of her work.