Lynnette Kent - The Prodigal Texan

He grabbed her hands and drew her to sit up, like a rag doll who’d lost half her stuffing. “Any woman with half a brain would know better.”

She put a hand to her head, where her brain used to be. “I didn’t—” Past and present swirled together…she might have been sixteen again, standing at the door to the high school gym where she was supposed to meet Jud for the homecoming dance. He’d said to wait for him there, in the note she’d found in her locker.

“Are you crazy?” he’d demanded, when she stepped out to claim him. She showed him the note, and he laughed. The crowd of kids watching them laughed, too.

“If you had half a brain,” he’d said, “you’d know better.” Then, with his arm around his date, he’d walked past Miranda into the dance.

“Pull yourself together,” he ordered, with a wave at her wrecked blouse and wrinkled skirt. “Go home, before you get tarred with the same brush they used on me. That’d ruin your election chances, for sure.”

When he reached for the whiskey, Miranda focused enough to grab it. “No. I’m not leaving you a single, solitary drop.” Scrambling on her knees to the other side of the truck, she launched the bottle into the darkness beyond her vehicle. The satisfying crash of glass shattering on asphalt announced her success.

Jud swore again, even more fluently.

Still kneeling, Miranda fixed her bra and drew the edges of her blouse together. One of the buttons had popped—or been torn off. She’d have to wear her jacket into the house and hope her mother didn’t notice.

When she scooted to the end of the tailgate, Jud held out a hand. Miranda told him what he could do with his hands, his truck, and the rest of his life before she hopped down without help.

He grabbed her shoulder and pulled her around to face him. “Look, I—”

As she pivoted, Miranda slapped him with the full force of her turn. “Don’t talk to me. I don’t care what you think. I was stupid—gee, that’s a surprise. But I’ll get over it, all the easier if I never see your face again.”

She’d reached for the door handle of her truck before she remembered that she had his keys. “I’ll send the sheriff out in the morning,” she yelled. “He’ll have your keys.”

“Hey,” Jud shouted, and started running. “You can’t—”

But Miranda was behind the wheel with the motor roaring before he’d covered half the distance. She backed into a plume of dust, skidded onto the pavement and gave Jud a wave as she passed him, already doing forty-five.

She didn’t slow down until she reached the driveway at the farm. And only then did she acknowledge the tears running down her cheeks and dripping off her chin.

December

Four years later

TRADITION IN HOMESTEAD, Texas, demanded that every bridal couple drive away from the ceremony in a suitably decorated vehicle. Noah and Greer Kelley would be no exception. While their reception—a hoedown and barbecue—continued in the town park, friends of the happy couple went to work on Project Newlywed. The groom had parked his truck in plain sight as a decoy while trying to hide his bride’s red Blazer, a futile effort that gave the decorating committee the opportunity to embellish two vehicles, instead of one.

“I brought tin cans,” Miranda told the crew surrounding Greer’s car. “Plus string and crepe paper.”

“We’d better hurry and get this done, then.” Wade Montgomery, the sheriff of Loveless County, surveyed the Blazer. He held a can of shaving cream in one hand and a white shoe polish applicator in the other. “I can’t imagine Noah’s going to wait much longer to have Greer to himself. I remember thinking I’d never get Callie away from our wedding reception.”

Kristin Gallagher wrapped a ribbon around the antenna and tied a bow at the top. “I imagine Greer has some ideas of her own,” she said, with a glance at her husband, Ryan, who was assisting Wade with the shoe polish.

Miranda caught the sexy grin Ryan sent his wife in return and felt her cheeks heat up. There had been a rash of weddings in Homestead recently—all her friends seemed to be pairing off, leaving her the odd woman out. An old maid was what she was, an old maid who still lived with her mother.

But this old maid was the town mayor. Miranda couldn’t help being proud of what she’d accomplished, for herself and for the hometown she loved.

“What can I do?” Ethan Ritter took the bag of tin cans Miranda still held and set it on the ground. “Kayla’s going to come looking for me any minute.” Ethan was another recently married citizen, a man who, more than most, deserved some lucky breaks in his life. And his wife, Kayla, definitely counted as good luck.

Once the group had done its best—or worst, depending on how you looked at it—the participants stood back for a moment to admire their handiwork. Miranda happened to be facing the Loveless County courthouse, so she was the first to notice a man approaching from the far side of the square. A long, lean drink of water he was, wearing boots and jeans and a chambray shirt under a leather jacket, but no hat on his head, cowboy or otherwise. The sun sat low in the sky behind him, leaving his face in shadow. He walked with a distinctive limp and she knew of no one in town who’d been injured lately. Obviously he wasn’t a local.

“Who’s that?” she asked, of no one in particular.

“I don’t know,” Ryan said, squinting into the sun. When she glanced at Ethan, she found his eyes hard, his mouth set in a straight line. “That’s my brother Jud.”

Miranda put a hand over her belly button, just at the spot where her stomach had suddenly shrunk into a tight, throbbing ball. Four years felt like no more than four hours, as humiliation flooded through her. How could she face Jud Ritter again in the light of day? In front of her friends? And his brother, for heaven’s sake! Could she retreat to the reception in the park before Jud arrived?

Other questions occurred to her as she watched him limp toward them. Why the hell had he come back? What right did he have to spoil an otherwise terrific afternoon? Did he seriously think anyone wanted him here?

His brother evidently didn’t. As Jud drew close, Ethan stepped out in front of the group, a barrier nearly as effective as a stone wall. He didn’t say a word in welcome, or even acknowledgment.

The move forced Jud to stop some distance up the sidewalk. “Hey, Ethan. How are you?”

Ethan hesitated before accepting the handshake his brother offered. “We’re fine.”

When Ethan didn’t say anything else, Jud looked past his shoulder to the party in the park. “That’s some shindig going on. What’s the occasion?”

“A wedding. You probably don’t remember Noah Kelley, and his wife, Greer Bell.”

“I do remember Noah, in fact. And Greer.” He turned to Wade. “Hey, Sheriff. I thought you were in charge of preventing vandalism.”

“I’ve learned when to turn a blind eye,” Wade said as they shook hands. “Some of us read the Austin newspaper, you know. We heard about your little ‘accident,’ even way out here. A citation for going above and beyond the call of duty, wasn’t it?”

“I was just doing my job.” An unspoken message passed between the two men, before they turned in different directions.

Jud nodded to Ryan, standing just behind Miranda. “Hey, Gallagher. How’s it going?”

“Great.” Ryan stepped forward to shake Jud’s hand. “Let me introduce you to my wife, Kristin.” He put an arm around the petite blonde and drew her forward. “Kristin, Jud and I used to run wild together, back in high school.”

Jud held her hand a moment. “I always knew Ryan would choose a beautiful wife. I’m glad to meet you.”