“Make excuses for yourself, Hardy, but I know what happened that night was real.”

Hardy kept staring into the heat of her eyes, getting lost in the sweet essence that was Angie. He used to fight it, but tonight he had to admit she was right. What they'd shared had been real. Just as real as what he was feeling right now.

He stepped close to her and cupped her face with his hands. Her skin was as smooth as anything he'd ever touched. He was always afraid to touch her, almost as if it was forbidden. He never understood why until this moment. Because she was the only woman who could make him lose himself. And he prided himself on control. Losing it for a second had brought on the guilt.

“It was real for me, too,” he whispered against her lips.

One Night

in Texas

Linda Warren

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Two-time Rita® Award-nominated and award-winning author LINDA WARREN loves her job, writing happily-ever-after books for Mills & Boon. Drawing upon her years of growing up on a farm/ranch in Texas, she writes about sexy heroes, feisty heroines and broken families with an emotional punch, all set against the backdrop of Texas. Her favorite pastime is sitting on her patio with her husband watching the wildlife, especially the injured ones that are coming in pairs these days: two Canada geese with broken wings, two does with broken legs and a bobcat ready to pounce on anything tasty. Learn more about Linda and her books at her website, www.lindawarren.net, or on Facebook, at www.facebook.com/AuthorLindaWarren.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Special thanks to Britany Smith for her help and advice. And, a big hug and thanks to Jaci and Addie Siegert for answering my many questions. Love you girls.

And, thank you, Tammy Medina, for sharing about your son's fractured femur. And, thanks to the ladies who answered my questions about kolaches.

DEDICATION

To: Christi Hendricks and Carousel Paperbacks.

Thanks for fifteen years of fun book signings.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Epilogue

Extract

Chapter One

To Angela Wiznowski the sweetest sound in the world was her daughter’s giggle: a bubbly gurgle erupting from her throat.

Angie leaned against the half-brick pillar on the porch of her bungalow-style house and watched Erin play in the front yard with her friends on a Slip ’N Slide. Today was her tenth birthday, and she’d had a fun-filled day. As the girls played with the water hose, shrieks and girlish laughter echoed through the late-May afternoon in Horseshoe, Texas.

Being a single mom hadn’t been easy, but Angie must have done something right. Her daughter was happy. It was what Angie had done wrong that kept her awake at night.

The whole Wiznowski family had been there today, along with Angie’s friends and neighbors. Everyone had come. Everyone except Erin’s father.

Angie had made that decision a long time ago, but the remnants of guilt lingered. Maybe because it had been the wrong decision. A child had a right to know her father.

It was clear now. Back then, though, everything wasn’t so black-and-white. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t tried to tell him, but he’d left town three days after they’d slept together for an extended vacation in Europe. Her attempts to contact him had failed. When he’d returned, he had an internship waiting for him in Houston. Angie had still tried to reach him, but when she found out he was engaged to someone else, she was devastated and unsure of what to do.

At eighteen, she’d felt alone and afraid. Keeping Erin’s parentage a secret had never been a deliberate choice. It had just turned out that way. She couldn’t tell him when he was set to marry another woman.

In college, Angie had met someone else, too, so fate had stepped in and the secret had stayed a secret. Part of her, the part that niggled at her late at night, knew Erin had missed a lot by not knowing her biological father.

Life went on, though. Her marriage had dissolved and she’d moved home to raise Erin alone. Although she wasn’t alone, surrounded by her very large family in Horseshoe. Sometimes it just felt that way.

To make matters worse, two years ago Erin’s father had returned to the small town and ran for the district attorney’s office and won. He was now the D.A. Angie saw him almost every day. They had polite conversations like “How are you?” or “How’s your family?” or “How are things at the bakery?” They were like strangers, as if that night had never happened. As if Erin had never happened.

Angie wrestled with her conscience daily, especially since his wife wasn’t with him. Horseshoe was a small town and gossip was like a balloon—the more air blown into it, the bigger it became, and soon it was floating all over town with nothing to hold it up but a lot of hot air puffed up with half-truths.

Still, everyone listened to the gossip. It was better than boredom. The story was his marriage had ended years ago and he’d come home because his father’s health was failing. She’d lost track of the number of times she’d marched to the courthouse to speak with him. He had a right to know, and she had to tell him even though her daughter might hate her.

But he was always in court or out of the office. She’d been waiting for the right time. When it came, he’d introduced her to his new girlfriend and she couldn’t bring herself to tell him. Maybe she was just a coward. Fear kept her tied to her secret because she was afraid of losing what she loved most: her child. Erin’s father was a lawyer and, even after all this time, he could try to take Erin from her.

Erin was starting to ask questions, too. One day Angie would have to tell her daughter about her father. Today was not the day. She dismissed the thought for now. The day of reckoning would come soon enough.

The afternoon was winding down and everyone had gone home except for two little girls and Jody, Erin’s best friend, who were waiting to be picked up. The girls continued to play on the Slip ’N Slide, getting totally soaked, chasing each other with the hose.

Erin ran for the house. “Mama, I’m getting my beach ball. We want to play with it.”

Angie started to stop her, but it was her birthday. They’d bought the ball at Walmart, getting ready for their summer vacation. They were driving to Disney World and stopping at every hotel/motel that had a pool until they reached the beach in Florida. Just Angie and her daughter. Erin would hit those teen years soon enough, and Angie wanted this special time with just the two of them.

Going to college and working, Angie depended on her family’s support and help. Erin had three surrogate mothers in Angie’s sisters. They adored their niece. At times, though, it was hard to have one-on-one time with her daughter. That was why Angie had moved out of her parent’s home eight years ago and bought a house so she and Erin could have their own life.

The Polish-Catholic Wiznowskis were known for being a big family. Angie had four sisters and two brothers. Her brother Dale and her sister Dorothy had moved away right after high school. She was the youngest and often touted as the favorite, which was similar to being the little kid on the playground always picked on by the bullies.

Wyatt Carson, the sheriff, pulled up to the side of the house. His wife, Peyton, who was Angie’s best friend, was with him. Peyton had gone home from the party so John Wyatt, otherwise known as J.W., their one-and-a-half-year-old son, could take a nap.

Wyatt came up the steps with his son in his arms. J.W. wiggled to get down and Wyatt let him. The baby scooted backward down the steps and tottered to his sister, Jody. He fell onto the Slip ’N Slide, laughing and getting soaked.

“Wyatt!” Peyton complained.

“He’s a little boy. He wants to play.”

Peyton wrapped her arm around her husband’s waist. “You’re changing him. I’ve done my quota for the day.”

Wyatt kissed his wife. “The party over?” he asked Angie.

“Yes. Just waiting for two more parents.”

Peyton was a beautiful blonde who was not the typical person you would find in Horseshoe. She had been raised in Austin in a wealthy family of social standing. She had made the mistake of speeding through Horseshoe one day, and Wyatt had arrested her because she’d had the nerve to try to bribe him. Who knew the sheriff and the socialite would fall in love? Peyton was now a small-town wife and mother. And happy. She and Angie had become fast friends through their daughters, and Angie treasured their friendship.

Two cars drove up to the curb. “The last of the birthday guests,” Angie said. “It’s been a long day.”

The girls’ squeals and giggles rose with excitement, and Angie glanced to where they were playing. They had the ball about twelve feet in the air, holding it there with the force of the water from the hose.

“Higher!” they shouted. Suddenly it bounced to the ground and toward the street. Erin ran after it.

“Erin, no!” Angie yelled.

Erin didn’t hear her. Her concentration was on getting the ball back. Almost in slow motion Angie saw the truck coming around the corner. “Erin!” she screamed, but her daughter kept running in between cars to the street.

“No!” Angie sprinted down the steps and then froze in horror as she saw the truck slam into Erin, who flew up in the air and landed in a heap on the paved street.

In a matter of seconds Angie was at her child. Erin lay so still and pale. One of her legs was twisted in an unnatural way. A spot on her thigh was bruised and bleeding. Blood oozed into a dark red puddle. The sight sent fear burning through her.

Screams, shouts and sobs echoed through the perfect day and turned it into a nightmare. Someone kept screaming—a chilling sound. Angie wished they would stop. Her ears hurt from the loud noise, and then she realized it was her.

Wyatt knelt by her and put an arm around her. “Calm down.”

Calm down. How did she calm down? Her child was lying like a limp doll in the street. Angie laid her face against Erin’s warm one. Angie smelled bubble gum, and a sob caught in her throat. Her daughter loved gum.

Angie stroked Erin’s wet hair and saw the bruise on her head and more blood. “Oh, my God!” She slipped a hand beneath Erin’s head.

“Don’t move her,” Wyatt said. “An ambulance is on the way.”

“Is...is she breathing?” They were the only words she could manage.

Wyatt laid his fingers against Erin’s neck. “Yes.”

Angie kept her face against her baby’s. “Mama’s here.”

Through the bits and pieces of her control she heard a bird chirping. An inane thing when her child’s blood was seeping onto the pavement. How could this happen? How could this day go from joy to horror?

“Angie, she came out of nowhere. I’m sorry.”

She raised her eyes to the face of the man who had hit her child. Her heart jolted into a spasmodic rhythm and then just flatlined, leaving her struggling to breathe. Fate had stepped in with a fistful of vengeance. She stared into the deep blue eyes of Hardison Hollister.

Erin’s father.

* * *

HARDY’S CHEST EXPANDED with raw terror. “I’m sorry, Angie. I didn’t see her.” His hands shook and his stomach roiled. He’d just hit an innocent child, and there was no way to make that better.

Angie glared at him with angry, unwavering eyes.

“It was an accident,” Wyatt said. But it didn’t change the sick feeling in his stomach as he stared at the little girl in the pink bathing suit with her leg twisted beneath her.

What was her name? He couldn’t bring it up. Horseshoe was a small town, and everyone knew everyone. He and Angie had been more than friends once, but now they were mere acquaintances. They were civil to each other and often met by accident at Wyatt and Peyton’s house. But he always kept his distance. Over the past two years, he’d been successful at that. How had he just hurt the one person she loved most in the world?

The blare of the siren whipped through the trees and roared to a stop not far from where they were kneeling on the pavement. Two paramedics jumped out with a stretcher. One began to ask questions. One was on the phone to the hospital, explaining the situation and checking the child’s injuries. They quickly put a collar on the little girl and loaded her onto the stretcher and into the ambulance. A tearful Angie followed. Hardy’s heart squeezed at the sight.

He glanced toward the house. Peyton held her son. Jody and two other girls were grouped around her, crying. Two women stood beside them. Someone needed to go with Angie. She didn’t need to be alone. But everyone seemed frozen in shock.

He did the only thing he could. He climbed into the ambulance.

Angie eyes opened wide. “What are you doing?”

He sat on the side bench as the paramedics worked with the little girl to stop the bleeding. “Someone needs to go with you and since I caused all this, the logical person is me.”

“There’s no need,” she said in a cool voice.

But there was no arguing. The ambulance zoomed toward Temple and the nearest hospital.

“How is she?” Hardy asked, not able to take his eyes off the child. She was so tiny. His chest grew even tighter as he saw blood soaking the stretcher.

“We’ve stopped the bleeding and started an IV,” one paramedic answered. “Looks as if she’s fractured her femur, but the doctors will give a better assessment once we reach the E.R.”

Hardy stared at Angie and the years seem to roll back to a time they both wanted to forget. A time he had worked very hard to forget.

His sister, Rachel, and Angie were friends in high school. Their mother had been killed in a drive-by shooting while walking to her car at an Austin mall. She’d gotten caught in a fight between two gang members and was the only one to die. Her sudden death had hit the family hard. Rachel had been seventeen and crushed, as they all had been, but she couldn’t seem to cope. Not until Angie had become a steadying force in her life.

Angie was sweet, kind, warm and giving. With her sunny disposition, she seemed to bring joy into a room. She had a sweet innocence about her that screamed “untouchable.” Besides, she was his sister’s age and too young for him.

Rachel had seemed to need Angie, and Angie had always been at the house. If she wasn’t, Rachel was on the phone begging her to come. Angie had worked in the family bakery in Horseshoe, but she spent as much time with Rachel as she could.

Busy finishing up law school at the University of Texas, Hardy had rarely come home on weekends. But after his mother’s death he’d come home often. Sometimes he had to wonder, though, if it was for his family or to see Angie. There was just something about her that made other people feel better—made him feel better.

Rachel had never liked to get dirty or sweaty. When they swam in the pool, Rachel would sit in a lounger while he and Angie frolicked in the water. He’d taught her to dive and how to hold her breath and open her eyes under the water. She’d been afraid to do that at first, and he’d laughed at her silly face when she finally did it. And he’d laughed when she’d made a belly buster off the diving board. He’d enjoyed being with her as much as Rachel did. Being six years older, sometimes he’d been ashamed to admit that.

Angie was a good cook and he lost track of the number of times she’d cooked in their kitchen—nachos, pizzas or anything Rachel wanted to eat. He’d eaten right along with them, soaking up the smile on Angie’s face. They’d fought over movies. She had liked chick flicks, and he had liked action films. They’d done a lot of compromising and teasing. Rachel had been an artist and always drawing in her sketchbook and frowning at them. At times it had felt as if it were just the two of them in the world. He couldn’t wait for Friday afternoons when he would head home to Horseshoe and Angie would be there.

God, that was so long ago. How could those memories still be so vivid? He took a long breath.

The sirens kept blaring as the ambulance sped toward Temple. It whipped in and out of traffic and zoomed through red lights. Other vehicles slowed and gave the ambulance right of way.

Oh, damn. He’d forgotten. He had a dinner date with his dad and Olivia in Austin. That was where he’d been going when he’d hit the little girl. He fished out his phone from his jeans and texted his dad and Olivia. Can’t make it. Sorry. Been involved in an accident. I’m fine. I’ll call later.

Messages immediately came back, wanting answers. Olivia and his dad were not very patient. He’d been dating Olivia on and off for about a year now. She understood him better than any woman he’d ever dated. But sometimes... He turned off his phone, not in the mood to answer questions. As he slipped the phone into his pocket, his eyes caught Angie’s and his heart did a nervous hiccup.

Angie held her daughter’s hand and stared at him with that incredibly hurt look he’d seen before. He looked away and let his thoughts drift.

Rachel had planned to study art in Paris. It was her first love. To help Rachel settle in, Hardison Sr. had decided they would take a family vacation to Europe. They’d been worried about Rachel being so far from home and her friends, especially away from Angie. Hardy had even thought of asking Angie to go with her friend, but he knew her morally upright mother wouldn’t allow it.

Their father had thrown Rachel a big going-away party in August at the Hollister’s ranch. Angie had been there. It was a party for teenagers, and he hadn’t planned on making an appearance.

The party was supposed to end at twelve. He’d arrived home about twelve-thirty to find drunk teens around the pool. Someone had spiked the punch. His dad had been in bed, trying not to interfere with Rachel’s fun. Hardy had called parents to come pick up their kids. His sister had been asleep on the sofa in the house, seemingly detached from her friends.

Going to his room, he’d found Angie in the hallway, sitting on the floor with her head on her knees.

“Are you okay?” he had asked.

“I feel woozy.”

“Someone spiked the punch.”

“I thought it tasted funny.” She’d raised her head and rested it against the wall. “Everything looks unfocused.”

“Come on. I’ll take you home.”

She’d gotten to her feet without a problem, but then she’d sagged against him. “I can’t go home. My mama will have a fit. I don’t do things like this and...”

He had helped her into his room. “Call your mom and tell her you’re spending the night.” Her mother, Doris, was known to be vocal and opinionated, and she would put Angie through the ringer. This wasn’t Angie’s fault. He hadn’t seen the need to punish her.

Afterward, she’d stretched out on the bed and gone to sleep. He had started to wake her and tell her to go to Rachel’s room, but she was sleeping so peacefully. After grabbing his toothbrush, he’d gone to a guest bedroom.

Sometime toward morning, he’d awakened and decided to check on her. Since she wasn’t used to liquor, he was worried.

She had been sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Are you sick?” he’d asked from the doorway.

“No. I just feel like a fool.”

He’d sat beside her in nothing but his pajama bottoms. He had realized later that he shouldn’t have done that. “Most kids have tasted liquor before their eighteenth birthday, so consider it a rite of passage. You’re now an adult.”

She’d brushed her sandy-brown hair back from her face and smiled at him. Even with the room in semidarkness, her smile was contagious. “Do you see me as an adult?”

“You’re my sister’s friend.” He hadn’t been sure how else to answer the question.

“That’s it?”

“Angie...”

Before he could stop her, she’d reached over and kissed his cheek. He had breathed in the scent of her and should have pulled away. But he hadn’t. She’d gently placed her lips on his and he was lost. He had wanted her in the worst way. He had wanted her the whole summer. Ignoring all the voices in his head, he’d kissed her back.

What had happened next was forever imprinted on his mind and on his heart. He’d taken her innocence.

There was no redemption for that.

Chapter Two

The ambulance wheeled into the emergency area of the hospital, and Erin was whisked inside. Angie climbed out without a glance at Hardy. She left him standing outside in the warm evening air. Pushing him to the back of her mind, she followed the stretcher.

She waited to the side as they examined Erin, her stomach a tangled mass of jittery nerves. Her baby looked so pale on the E.R. table. A nurse slit the new bathing suit with a pair of scissors and removed it. The doctor did a quick examination, calling out orders for tests that went over Angie’s head. Her eyes were focused on her unconscious baby.

An X-ray had been done quickly, and the doctor put it up on a screen. “She has a fractured femur, a possible concussion and we have to check for internal bleeding and rib fractures. Let’s get her up to the surgical ward. Notify Dr. Lawson and Dr. Robbins. Now.” The man in the blue scrubs turned to Angie. “Are you the mother?”

Angie had to swallow twice before she could answer. “Yes.”

“We’re taking her for tests and then to surgery. Her left leg is badly fractured and will require surgery. The surgeon will talk to you before he operates. You’ll have to sign papers.”

“I need to be with her. She’ll want her mama when she wakes up.”

The doctor gave her a compassionate look. “I understand that, but she’s not going to be awake for a long time.” The doctor looked over her shoulder and asked, “Are you the father?”

Angie swung around to see Hardy standing there. Her pulse pounded in her ears as panic gripped her. She couldn’t handle this now. Before words could leave her throat, Hardy stepped forward.

“I’m Hardy Hollister. The girl ran out in front of my truck and I hit her. Please do whatever you can to help her.”

“We will.”

Two nurses came in and pushed Erin’s bed toward the elevator. Angie was one step behind. She didn’t know why Hardy was still there. She wanted him to leave.

A nurse pointed to a door. “You can wait in there. After the tests, the surgeon will talk to you.”

“Thank you.” She took a deep breath and walked inside feeling empty, alone and scared out of her mind. Her baby had to be okay.

Without even having to look, she knew Hardy was behind her. His presence was strong and undeniable. But she was strong, too. He’d made her that way.

She faced him. “Would you please leave?”

“I have to know that she’s okay.”

“Wyatt will call you.”

He shook his head. “I’m not leaving, Angie. You don’t need to be here alone.”

Alone? Is he kidding?

“My family is on the way. You’re just a stranger to me, and I don’t want you here.”

His tanned skin paled. “I’m not a stranger.” Her words might have stung, but being an attorney he was used to brushing away barbs as no more than pesky flies. Just like he did women.

As a teenager, Angie had been so naive and in love with the fantasy of Hardison Hollister: tall, handsome, older and a little mysterious. She used to dream about her friend’s brother. It had to be love, because she thought about him all the time.

Suffering through the remnants of a hangover, she’d gained the courage to show him she was an adult. To maintain her sanity, she’d closed her mind to what had happened next.

It was a mistake, he’d said. He was sorry, but she was his sister’s friend and she could never be anything else to him. So she’d taken her mangled pride and did the best she could with a broken heart. Even now when she saw him around town or with one of his many women, she’d have the oddest moments where she thought she still had those feelings for him. Maybe some fantasies never died.

But she was older, mature and Hardy wasn’t going to mess with her mind again. She wanted him to leave so she could deal with her injured child. Later, she’d have to divulge her innermost secret. Not now, though.

She looked him straight in the eye. “It was an accident. I don’t hold you responsible. Is that what you’re waiting to hear?”

His eyebrows knotted together. “No. I’m genuinely concerned for her.”

“Really? What’s her name?”

“Uh...what?”

“You’ve avoided me for two years. Let’s don’t change things now.”

“You look at me as if I’m a leper or something. I can’t go back and change the past, but I’m not leaving this hospital until I know your daughter is out of surgery and doing well.”

“I don’t want you here. Can’t you understand that?” Her control slipped a notch.

His question, “Why?” blasted through her control with the force of a bullet, and it pierced through regions of her heart she’d kept safe. Safe from any emotions she might have had for him. Safe from admitting she was just as gullible as she’d ever been.

* * *

TWO DOCTORS IN scrubs and surgical caps walked into the room, preventing Angie from answering. Not that she had an answer she could share with him. She immediately went to the doctors.

One looked down at the chart in his hand. “Ms. Wiznowski?”

“Yes.”

“I’m Dr. Lawson, and this is Dr. Robbins, a pediatric orthopedist.”

They shook hands. “How’s my daughter?”

Dr. Lawson looked over her shoulder, and Angie cringed. She knew what the doctor would ask next.

“Are you the father?” he asked Hardy.

Hardy stepped forward. “No. I hit her with my truck. She came out of nowhere.”

The doctor nodded. “It’s commendable you’re taking responsibility.”

“How is my daughter?” Angie didn’t know why the doctor was talking to Hardy. Erin was no concern of his. That wasn’t quite true, but she couldn’t admit that now.

Dr. Lawson turned his attention to her. “Your daughter has taken quite a beating, but she’s young and has no life-threatening wounds.”

Angie sagged with relief. “Thank God.”

“But we do have some concerns. She has a bad cut on her head from hitting the pavement. We’ve used surgical tape to close it. She has two fractured ribs, but no internal bleeding. Our main concern is her leg. Dr. Robbins will discuss that with you. I just wanted to let you know she’s resting comfortably.”

“Thank you. Can I see her?”

“My surgical team is prepping her for surgery,” Dr. Robbins answered. “We need your permission to continue. The nurse will bring some papers in for you to sign.”

“Okay. Her femur is broken?” she asked.

“Yes. Severely, but I can operate and repair it. I’ll insert a lightweight titanium rod to stabilize the fracture.” He opened the file and drew as he talked. “It’s a new technique. I’ll make an incision on the top of her hip. Right about here.” He made a mark on the stick figure he’d drawn. “After I realign the bone, I’ll insert the rod through the center of the bone, which will then serve as an internal splint.”

“Will she need a cast?”

“No. We might put an immobilizer on her knee at first to prevent movement. These fractures take about six weeks to heal. In the meantime she’ll be on crutches so she can keep her weight off that leg. In a year, we’ll remove the rod.”

“So the prognosis is good?”

Dr. Robbins nodded. “Yes. I deal with a lot of femur fractures, and they heal beautifully, especially in young children. It just takes time.”

Angie thought of the wonderful vacation they’d planned and how excited Erin was to see Disney World. Now they would be spending the summer at home, healing and trying to come to grips with what had happened.

“Can I see her, please?”

“She’s in a sterile area. You won’t be able to see her until after surgery.”

“If she wakes up and I’m not there, she’ll be so afraid.”

Dr. Robbins touched her shoulder in a reassuring gesture. “I promise you, you’ll be there when she wakes up.”

“Thank you. How long will this take?”

“Maybe an hour or so, depends how everything goes. I’ll come back and talk to you when it’s over.”

The doctors walked out, and she felt more alone than ever. But Erin was going to be okay.

She took a deep breath and turned to deal with Hardy. “Erin is going to be okay. You don’t need to feel guilty anymore.”

“I know your ex-husband isn’t part of your life anymore, but shouldn’t he be notified?” he asked as if it was his right to do so.

“That’s none of your business.”

“No matter what your relationship is, he has a right to know his child has been injured.”

She hated it when he took on his lawyer persona and kept probing until he got the answers he wanted. But he would be the last person she would tell about Dennis Green, her married-in-haste ex-husband.

“I’ll take care of it.”

“I’d like to try to explain. I need to explain.”

She also hated that honorable streak in him. Before he’d left for Europe, she’d seen him in town and they’d sat on a bench at the courthouse and talked for a few minutes. He had apologized once again for what had happened and wanted her to know how much he liked her and he wished her all the best in the future. Being young and incredibly naive, she’d wanted words of love and marriage.

When she’d found out she was pregnant, her first thought had been she had to tell him. But Hardy had been in Europe, and she’d had no way to get in touch with him. She’d kept praying Rachel would call and then she could talk to Hardy, but the call never came.

She had agonized over how to tell her mother—her very strict, religious mother. Patsy and Peggy, her twin sisters, were in Temple going to beauty school. She’d joined them there to attend Temple Junior College and take accounting courses. It had been her way to escape a confrontation with her mother and to escape the gossip, if only temporarily. Still, she couldn’t sleep or eat. She’d been a mess. Then she’d met sweet and kind Dennis, and her world had righted itself.

A nurse entered the room with some papers and a clipboard in her hand. She looked at Hardy. “Mr. Wiznowski?”

Angie wanted to scream with frustration. Why did they think Hardy had anything to do with Erin? Because he does. He is her father. He just didn’t know it.

The truth of that opened the blinds she’d firmly kept shut against such observations. Eighteen-year-old Angie had thought she could save her pride and spare her feelings from being shattered by walking away and raising her child alone. That had been foolish. Twenty-eight-year-old Angie could clearly see that. The blinds were wide-open and the outside world was creeping in slowly but surely. Her day of reckoning had arrived.

She had been six weeks pregnant when she’d heard that Judge Hollister, Hardy’s father, was back from Europe. He had been a judge in the small town for almost forty years. The thought of Hardy not knowing had bothered her, so she’d gone home early one Friday to talk to the judge in hopes that she could get Hardy’s number. Instead, he’d thought she wanted to talk to Rachel and made the call so they could visit. Looking back, she should’ve asked Rachel for the number. But Rachel had gone on and on about Paris, and the moment had slipped away.

Fear and guilt had kept her steady company. To ease her mind, she’d made the trip again. As before, the judge had thought she wanted to speak to Rachel and made the call. Rachel hadn’t answered, and it gave Angie a chance to ask the judge how Hardy was doing.

That was when she’d learned that he was engaged and planning a Christmas wedding. The man had been thrilled that Hardy had met the perfect woman for him. She would be an asset to his burgeoning political career.

Angie had been devastated, and Dennis had been there to console her. When he’d offered to marry her, she’d accepted. It had been a way out. She wouldn’t have to face her mother or the gossip. How weak she’d been. Goose bumps popped up on her arms and a chill ran through her. She’d made so many mistakes. The burden of them would always be with her.

Lost within herself, she hadn’t even noticed a nurse was talking to Hardy. That was typical. Women were drawn to him.

She cleared her throat. “Do you have papers for me to sign?”

“Oh.” The nurse thrust the clipboard at her. “Read and sign at all of the marked x’s.”

Angie sat in one of the chairs, read and signed the papers, very aware that Hardy was watching her.

Handing the clipboard back, she asked, “Do you know if they’ve started the surgery?”

The nurse shook her head. “I just deal with the paperwork.”

“Thank you.”

The nurse looked at Hardy, then walked out.

It wasn’t the time to shatter his world, and Angie didn’t know if she had the strength to tell him now. Or in the future. She had to keep her focus on Erin. But later, when Erin was better, she would pull the Band-Aid off her heart and open it up to whatever came next.

Just like years ago, it would take all the courage she had, even take a part of her stubborn pride, but it had to be done. Hardy had missed ten years of Erin’s life, and he would never forgive her for that. Somewhere in that maze of emotions, though, they had to find a way to get along—for their child.

Hardy eased into the chair next to her. A light, musky scent reached her, and she resisted the urge to move away. In jeans, boots and a pristine white shirt, he was as handsome as ever. In the old days, looking at his long legs and broad shoulders would send her heart soaring to the heavens faster than the speed of light. Now her heart was numb. Maybe because she was looking at him through the eyes of her conscience.

“I was talking to the nurse about Dr. Robbins. She said he’s a very good pediatric orthopedic surgeon, so you don’t have anything to worry about. Your daughter’s going to be fine. Maybe a little bruised, but fine.”

She looked into the dark blue eyes of the man she had loved deeply, or thought she had. Oddly, today she only saw a man she’d hurt. She swallowed. “Her name is Erin.”

“What? Oh. That’s pretty.”

God, she couldn’t believe he didn’t know Erin’s name. Suddenly ten years of keeping a secret felt like a boulder on her chest. How did she make this right? Could she make it right? There had to be an answer somewhere.

“I’ll pay for anything she needs,” he offered.

“I have good insurance.” She started to say it wasn’t any of his concern, and she began to think that maybe she was the one who’d received the bump on the head. Unexpectedly, she saw herself as a woman she didn’t like. A woman who kept secrets. A woman who’d lied.

Bile rose up in her throat.

“Are you okay?” He reached out to touch her and she jerked back.

“Don’t touch me.” If his skin touched hers, she would lose what little self-respect she still maintained. The memory of his skin against hers was still vivid after all these years. The warmth, the passion, would always be part of her because they’d created Erin. She could not remain strong when he was gentle and understanding.

Footfalls pounded against the tiled floor and the door flew open. The Wiznowski family charged in. The whole group grabbed her in a hug. Her legs buckled. The support of her family held her upright.

Over her sister’s shoulder she saw Hardy moving toward the door. Her mother noticed it, too.

“How could you hit our precious Erin? Were you drinking or on your phone?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Why weren’t you paying attention, then?”

“I was. She just came out of nowhere,” Hardy replied stiffly.

“She’s just a little girl.” Tears filled Doris’s eyes, and Angie hugged her mother.

“It was an accident, Mama. The doctor said Erin’s going to be okay. She just needs surgery on her leg and time to heal.”

“Thank God.”

“Is she in surgery?” Patsy asked.

“Yes.”

“So we wait.” Patsy sank into a chair, as did Peggy, AnaMarie, her other sister, and their dad, Willard. Doris kept staring at Hardy. Angie just wanted some peace and quiet and not to have to referee family squabbles.

Her brother Bubba entered the room, and, before anyone could stop him, he swung his right fist at Hardy, who staggered backward from the blow to his jaw. He didn’t go down, which was a feat, because Bubba was six foot two and weighed about three hundred pounds.

“Stop it,” she said, getting between the two men.

“He hurt Cupcake.” Bubba raised his fist again. “I’m gonna kill him.”

“Cupcake ran out in front of his truck,” Angie pointed out. “There is a difference.” Bubba had always called Erin Cupcake because he said she was so sweet.

“I don’t care. I’m still gonna hurt him.” Bubba made a move toward Hardy and Angie tried to hold him back.

“I’ll give you the first one, Bubba, but that’s it.” Hardy rubbed his jaw with murder in his eye.

The door opened again, and Wyatt and Peyton came in. Wyatt took the situation in at a glance. “What’s going on?”

Bubba looked at Wyatt. “Hardy hurt Cupcake.”

“It was an accident. A terrible accident, and Angie doesn’t need to deal with this on top of everything else.”

Her father got to his feet. “Son, the sheriff is right. This is not the time or the place for your anger. If you can’t control yourself, then you need to go home.”

Angie took a deep breath. “I would appreciate it if everyone went home. I need to focus on Erin, and I can’t handle this bickering right now.”

“We’re not leaving you alone,” Doris said. “This is a time when you need your family.”

Angie remembered her mother saying the same words when Angie had been pregnant and Dennis had left her. But Angie had refused to be browbeaten and treated like a child. She wouldn’t allow it today, either.

Before she could say a word, Wyatt spoke up, “Maybe it’s best if we let Angie have some quiet time. She’ll call if she needs us.” Wyatt knew the Wiznowski family and their constant squabbling.

Doris glared at Wyatt. “You may be the sheriff of Horseshoe and have control there, but you can’t tell me what to do concerning my daughter. I am her mother.”

“He might not be able to,” her father spoke up, to everyone’s surprise, “but I can. Let’s go. Angie will call if she needs us.”

“Willard—”

“You heard me, Doris.”

Angie had had enough. She was worried out of her mind about what her daughter was going through at that precise moment and she couldn’t take anymore. She bolted for the door and ran down the hall away from everybody.

She reached a nurse’s station and stopped. “Do you know if Erin Wiznowski is still in surgery? I’m her mother.”

The nurse looked at the computer screen and tapped a few keys. “Yes, she’s still in surgery. Dr. Robbins will be out to speak to you when it’s over.”

“Can I wait somewhere closer?”

“Sure. There are a couple of chairs around the corner, not far from the operating room. I’ll let Dr. Robbins know you’re there.”

“Thank you.” She went around the corner and sank into a chair. Taking several deep breaths, she tried to calm herself. So much had happened she didn’t even know if that was possible.

“Angie.”

She looked up to see Peyton standing there, a little unsure, which was out of character for her confident friend. “I brought this from your house.” She handed Angie her purse.

“Thank you. I’d forgotten about it.”

“Your phone’s in there, and so is your charger.”

Angie slipped the strap over her shoulder. “Is my family still here?”

“They were standing around the waiting room grumbling when I left.” Peyton cocked her head. “Which is typical of the Wiznowskis.”

“Yeah. That’s a nice way to say it.”

Peyton hugged her. “I’m a phone call away if you need anything.”

“I know, and I’ll call as soon as Erin is out of surgery.”

“I can stay if—”

Angie shook her head. “No. Go home to your babies. I know no one understands how I’m feeling, but I really need to be alone.”

“You got it. Talk to you tomorrow.” Peyton walked down the hall. Angie wished her family was as easy to deal with.

She glanced at her watch and saw it was almost eight o’clock. Why wasn’t the surgery over? She just couldn’t stand the thought of Erin’s perfect little body being operated on. Tears trickled from her eyes, and she brushed them away. More followed. Oh, what the hell. She needed to cry. That was the only way she was going to get this nightmare out of her system. The nervousness, the tension and the worry would still be there, but maybe she could cope better; at the moment she was losing a grip on everything she held dear.

“Angie.”

She looked up, brushing tears away as quickly as she could, and stared into those dark blue eyes that did a number on her self-control. Why couldn’t he follow everyone’s lead and leave?

He held a cup of coffee in each hand. “Thought you might need this.”

She accepted the drink gratefully. “Thank you.”

“Are you okay?”

“No. Erin’s never been away from me except to spend a night at my mom’s or Jody’s, but I’m never far away. I need to hold my baby to know she’s going to be fine. That’s when I’ll be okay.” Her hands gripped the warm cup. “And I’ll be much better once you get off the guilt trip, too. Please leave me in peace.”

“Sorry—I can’t do that until I know your daughter’s okay.”

“Her name is Erin,” she said, sharper than she’d intended. Maybe because a father should know his child’s name. And the father had a right to know he had a child.

How did she tell him that? How did she make up for ten years of keeping a secret without tearing Erin’s world apart? And without shattering Hardy’s?

She took a sip of the coffee and stared into the depths of the liquid, which was as dark as her soul. How had a good Catholic girl gone so wrong?

She cleared her throat. “Hardy...”

Chapter Three

Dr. Robbins came around the corner, stopping Angie. She ran to him. “How’s my daughter?”

The doctor pulled off his surgical cap. “She’s fine. Everything went smoothly. They’re taking her to a room. You can get the number from the nurse.”

“Oh, thanks.”

“We’ll go over her care first thing in the morning. She’ll probably sleep most of the night. If she complains about pain, I’ve left something on order for her.”

“Thank you.” Angie hurried down the hall to the nurse’s station. Hardy stared after her.

“She’s really going to be fine,” the doctor said to him.

“Yeah.” He sighed, wondering if she would recover completely. “She has a lot of weeks of healing ahead, though.”

“Kids are tough, and she’ll bounce back quickly.” The doctor nodded and followed Angie.

Hardy stood there feeling something he couldn’t explain. The little girl was going to be okay, so he should go home. His father and Olivia were waiting to hear from him. But for some reason, he couldn’t make himself leave the hospital. Maybe it was the worry on Angie’s face and the fact that he’d caused it.

He saw Wyatt walking toward him, and he went to meet him.

“What are you still doing here?” he asked his friend.

Wyatt handed him his truck keys. “Peyton and I brought your truck so you’ll have a way to get home.”

“Ah, man, thanks. It hasn’t crossed my mind yet that I don’t have a ride.”

“How’s Erin?”

“She’s out of surgery, and Angie has gone to be with her.”

Wyatt removed his hat and scratched his head. “I wish she’d let someone stay with her, but she’s one stubborn woman.”

“Her family is supervocal, and I can see how they’d suck the energy right out of her.”

Wyatt smiled. “They’re a lively bunch, for sure.” His friend looked at him. “Bubba didn’t mean anything. He just loves his niece.”

“I know that.” Hardy rubbed his sore jaw. The punch was nothing compared to what Angie’s daughter had suffered. He’d injured a child. He was still grappling with that.

“If you’re leaving, I’ll walk you out.”

“Um...I’m going to stick around for a bit. I want to make sure everything’s okay with the little girl.”

“It was an accident, Hardy. I was there, so stop blaming yourself.”

Hardy swiped a hand through his hair. “Tell that to my stomach.”

“It’ll get better.” Wyatt patted him on the shoulder. “I’ll catch you tomorrow.”

Hardy tossed his coffee cup in a trash can and went to the nurse’s desk to ask for the little girl’s room number. She was in the pediatric ward, and it didn’t take him long to find it. But he hesitated outside the door. Angie wasn’t going to like him being there.

The hall was quiet and the lights had been dimmed for the night. Parents were with their children. He should leave and come back tomorrow. But he couldn’t do that. He pushed the door open slightly.

Angie had a chair pulled close to the bed, and she was sitting in it, stroking her daughter’s hair back from her forehead. The light was low, but he could see her clearly. She looked so different from that young, innocent girl she’d been a long time ago.

There was nothing remarkable about Angie’s looks—she had golden-brown eyes, sandy-brown hair and a smooth complexion. Back then she’d been slim. Now her figure was more mature, and her hair was different, too. Evidently, her beautician sisters had highlighted it or something because it was more blond than brown now. She wore it in a ponytail with several strands curling around her face.

Yet Angie had a special quality that endeared her to everyone. When she talked, she spoke with a smile in her voice. She was open, honest and sweet. Everybody liked her. He was no exception.

The little girl stirred, and Angie was on her feet. An IV was still in the child’s arm. Angie leaned down and whispered, “Erin, baby, Mama’s here.”

“Mama?”

“Yes. I’m right here.”

“I...I feel funny.” The tiny voice was soft and weak, and Hardy’s stomach tightened like a balled fist.

“You’ve been in an accident, baby.”

“What...happened?”

“You were running after your beach ball and—”

“Yeah. I didn’t want it to go into Mrs. Wimby’s yard...’cause...she keeps things.”

Angie kissed the girl’s forehead. “I know, baby. Go back to sleep and we’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

“Have to get my ball, Mama, to go on our trip.”

“Shh. Go back to sleep. Mama’s here.”

“My head hurts.”

“I’ll get the nurse.”

Erin’s eyes opened wide. “Where...where are we?”

“In the hospital.”

“Why?” The little girl began to cry, and Hardy’s stomach clamped that much tighter.

“Shh, baby. You’re okay. Please don’t cry.”

The girl closed her eyes and drifted into a drug-induced sleep. Hardy stepped away from the door and sank into a chair in the hall. The girl wasn’t okay. She was in pain. He took a couple of deep breaths, knowing the knot in his gut wasn’t going to go away for a while. He was so angry with himself. It was a neighborhood with children. He should’ve been more careful. He should have—

He heard them before he saw them. Loud voices. Angry voices. Could only belong to Wiznowskis. It was the twins. There was no mistaking them. Colorful and flashy were their trademarks. He never could tell them apart, so he’d stopped trying.

One had on at least three-inch red clogs with a short skirt and a tank top. The other had on orange high heels, shorts and a gypsy-type blouse. Both wore necklaces, bracelets and earrings that jangled when they walked. Their hair color seemed to change weekly. Today one was a blonde with a bluish tint. The one in shorts had black hair with orangey highlights.

“She’s going to be pissed,” the one in the shorts said.

“So? I can be pissed, too,” the other replied.

“AnaMarie said we should respect her wishes.”

The blond-haired one laughed. “Since when do we listen to AnaMarie? She’s an old fart.”

“She’s two years older than us.”

“Do you have to argue about everything?”

“It’s not me. It’s you.”

“Yeah, right.”

They both stopped when they saw him. The one with the black hair stepped closer. “What are you still doing here? Haven’t you done enough?”

He got to his feet, really not in the mood for another round with the Wiznowskis. “Making sure everyone is okay.”

The blonde’s eyes narrowed. “Does Angie know you’re out here?”

“No.”

“Then you’d better leave.”

He glanced from one to the other. “You know, I can never tell you two apart, so you’ll have to introduce yourselves. I’d really like to know who I’m talking to.”

“I’m Mary Patricia—Patsy,” the black-haired one said.

“And I’m Mary Margaret, but everyone calls me Peggy.”

“Well, Peggy, I’m not going anywhere until that little girl is better.”

Peggy jammed a finger into her chest. “We’ll take care of Erin. We’ve always helped Angie with our little angel. Your presence here only complicates things. Get my drift?”

“Not really. Your sister asked for some time alone with her daughter.”

“Ah.” Patsy waved a hand at him. “She was just upset. She needs us like she did when that bastard left her.”

“Don’t you think someone should call the little girl’s father?” Angie had been very evasive when he’d asked about him, but if it were his kid, he’d want to know. He was sure the man felt the same way.

Patsy got into his face. “I think you’re sticking your nose in where it doesn’t belong.”

“We can discuss this all day and all night, but my position is not changing.”

Angie stepped into the hall, interrupting the heated conversation. “What are y’all doing here? I could hear you in the room.”

Patsy approached her sister. “Don’t go all mama bear on us. You didn’t really think we’d leave, did you?” She held up a bag. “We went to get you something to eat.”

“Thanks, but I’m not hungry.”

Peggy hugged Angie. “How’s Erin?”

“She woke up for a second and said her head hurt. I called a nurse, and they’re bringing her something. She’s really confused right now, I think—the fewer people she sees, the better it is for her.”

“Come on, Angie. We’re her aunties,” Patsy said. “Let us just see her for a second so we can sleep tonight.”

Angie held up one finger. “One minute. Visiting hours are over. You have to make it quick, and please do not wake her.”

Patsy and Peggy hurried inside the room. That left him and Angie staring at each other. The same old message flashed in her eyes, and it didn’t take her long to say it. “Why are you still here?”

Her voice was tired and a little sad. He felt guilty for upsetting her more than he already had.

Patsy and Peggy came out, wiping tears from their eyes.

“She’s so pale.” Peggy grabbed a tissue out of her huge purse.

Angie visibly swallowed. “Yes. She’s had a horrific afternoon and...”

Angie stopped speaking as AnaMarie came toward them with a small suitcase in her hand.

“Well, if it isn’t Ms. Old Fart,” Patsy quipped. “I thought we were supposed to respect Angie’s wishes.”

“I should have known you two wouldn’t listen.”

AnaMarie and Hardy were the same age and in the same class in school. He liked her. She always had a lot of common sense, but she was very quiet and shy. Angie was like that, too.

AnaMarie and her mother, along with the grandmother, ran a bakery. Hardy used to go in there a lot, as did everyone in Horseshoe. When Angie had come back from Temple, he’d heard, she’d taken over the business end. She had an office inside the shop, so he didn’t go in as much to avoid seeing her. Their encounters were stilted and awkward, and he never knew what to say to her. He just had an enormous guilt that he couldn’t shake.

The bakery was the busiest place in town, and people came from all over to sample the kolaches, pies, cakes, cookies and every other imaginable sweet. The shop had been in the same family for as long as Hardy could remember. The Wiznowskis were well-known in Horseshoe. Bubba owed a gas station and wrecker service. Willard had a blacksmith shop and the twins operated a beauty shop that was called Talk of the Town. It was aptly named, as most rumors were started there. Angie also took care of their books and did taxes for just about everyone in Horseshoe.

“I brought you a change of clothes, toiletries and something to sleep in,” AnaMarie said. “I’m prepared to stay, too. You need someone here.”

“Thanks.” Angie took the suitcase from her. “But no. You have to open the bakery in the morning and I’m fine because Erin’s going to be okay.”

“Tomorrow is Sunday, and we’re not open on Sunday,” AnaMarie reminded her.

“I’m sorry.” Angie touched her forehead. “I’m a little rattled.”

“That’s understandable. How’s Erin?”

“She’s a little restless, but the surgery went well.”

Footfalls sounded again on the tiled floor, and they looked up to see Willard and Doris walking toward them.

“I had to come back,” Doris said as she reached Angie. She gave Hardy a sharp glance but didn’t say anything. “I can’t rest until I know my granddaughter’s okay.”

“I tried, Angie,” her father said. “But I was worried, too.”

Angie hugged her parents. “Erin’s going to be fine. You can see her for a minute.”

No one said a word until they came out of the room. Doris dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. “My poor baby. Angie, I’ll stay the night so someone is here with you.”

“No, Mama. Everyone needs to go home. I can take care of Erin.”

“I called Dale and Dorothy and told them what happened, and they send their love and prayers.”

“Thank you, Mama.”

A nurse came down the hall with a syringe in her hand. She glared at everyone. “Visiting hours are over. Y’all will have to leave.”

“They’re going,” Angie replied. She followed the nurse into the room.

The family walked off without a backward glance, and Hardy thought that was just as well. Enough had been said today. He stretched his tired shoulders and moved down the hall so the nurse wouldn’t see him. When the nurse came out of Erin’s room, Hardy slipped in.

“Hardy.” Angie sighed. “You have to leave.”

He stared at the girl in the bed. Her skin was as white as the sheet. He wondered if she was really okay. Maybe that was why he couldn’t leave. His shoulders drooped with fatigue.

He glanced at Angie’s worried face. “You have to call her father. He needs to know his child is hurt, no matter what your relationship is with him.”

“I told you, it’s none of your business.” The smile in her voice was gone, replaced by the same fatigue he was feeling.

“Patsy said he left you, but...”

Angie leaned down and kissed her daughter, then walked into the hall, making sure the door was slightly opened. She sat in one of the chairs. “Okay. If you want to have this conversation now, let’s have it.”

He sat beside her, his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped together. “I’m not upsetting you on purpose.”

“It feels like it.”

The hall was dimly lit, and the only sounds were the beeps of a machine and murmurs coming from the nurse’s station. He wished he could articulate what he was feeling, but he was having a hard time explaining it to himself.

“I’m really sorry about today, Angie. I’d give my life for it not to have happened. I should have been more careful. I should have—”

“Do you believe that things happen for a reason?”

He was taken aback for a moment. “I suppose. I’ve never really thought about it.”

Angie wore shorts and she rubbed her hands down her bare thighs. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the nervous action, trying not to remember the touch of her silky skin against his.

“What does this have to do with your ex-husband?”

“Nothing. It has everything to do with you.”

“I get I’m being a little pushy, but I injured the man’s child and I’d like to apologize. I’d like to do something.”

“Dennis is not part of our lives and he wouldn’t appreciate your apology or your gesture.”

“I don’t get that. He has a daughter.”

She moved restlessly. “I could say again that it doesn’t concern you, but I’m tired and weary of carrying a load so heavy it has finally brought me to my knees.”

Hardy didn’t know what to say. He’d spent many hours in a courtroom with the right response ready at every moment, but here in the hallway he didn’t have a clue how to respond.

“When I was eighteen, I was very naive and believed in love.” She took a deep breath. “I believed in love so strongly I knew the moment we made love you’d fall deeply in love with me. How stupid was that?”

“I’m sorry I hurt you.” They were the only words he could push through his dry throat. She was sincere and honest, and he hated himself at that moment. Hated what had happened between them. Hated he’d destroyed her belief in love.

“And I’m sorry I believed in a love that didn’t exist, but only in my dreams.”

“Angie...”

She held up a hand. “No. Let me say what I have to say because I know you’re not going to stop until you hear the whole story.”

“What story?” He didn’t understand what she was talking about. “We made a bad decision, and we both realized that afterward.”

“You did. I thought I loved you. Even though it was a teenage crush, my feelings were very real to me.”

He clasped his hands until they were numb. The numbness spread to his wrist, his arms. “It’s been so many years ago I don’t understand why we’re talking about it now.”

“You said our night together was a mistake.”

“You agreed.”

She shook her head. “I didn’t say much of anything. You did all the talking. It wasn’t a mistake to me. It will never be.”

He swallowed hard. “You were so young. You had your whole life ahead of you and—”

“You never asked how I felt. It was all about you and what you’d perceived you’d done.”

He drew a long breath. “What does this have to do with your ex-husband not being here?”

“I made bad choices when I was eighteen, but I thought I had made the right choices at the time. Looking back, I can see I was desperately trying to save my pride because that was all I had left.”

He didn’t say anything because he was completely lost. He had no idea what she was talking about. Yet he could clearly hear in her voice that he’d hurt her. He didn’t know how to make that right. They had both moved on to different lives. He saw no reason to dredge it all up again. He had to say something, though.

“You were very young, and I think your feelings for me were blown out of proportion.”

“You could be right about that, because those feelings soon faded.” She sat up straight and wrapped her arms around her waist. “I felt very foolish.”

“Angie, what are you trying to tell me?”

“Like I said, I believe things happen for a reason. You came around that corner at that precise moment and literally crashed into everything I had been keeping a secret for ten years.”

“What...what are you saying?”

She didn’t answer for a moment, and he sensed she was gauging her next words. “I’m saying Erin’s father doesn’t need to be notified because he’s already here.”

“What?”

“You’re Erin’s father.”

Chapter Four

The hallway went dark. Completely. Like a rabbit hole. And he was tumbling down, down, down. The only sound he heard was his heart slamming against his ribs in panic.

You’re Erin’s father.

He’d known.

Somewhere in his subconscious, he’d known. That was why he couldn’t leave the hospital. Angie had desperately wanted to get rid of him, and that had triggered his lawyer’s antenna. True, he’d just run into her child with his truck, but he’d sensed it was more than that. So he’d kept prodding. Kept insisting. Kept questioning.

Oh, my God! He’d hit his own child.

How could that be?

He rose to his feet like a drunk who’d spent too many hours in a bar. His head hurt. His nerves were shaky, and he couldn’t focus beyond the now.

You’re Erin’s father.

“We used protection. How could she be mine?” He was still holding on to the belief that it wasn’t possible he had a child and didn’t know.

“Condoms are not one hundred percent foolproof. You should know that.”

He shook his head. “No...no...” But from her steady gaze, he knew she wasn’t lying. “How could you do this to me?” burst from his throat.

Her head down, her hands clasped in her lap, she replied in a voice that seemed to echo through the hole in his heart. “How was I supposed to tell you when you weren’t here?”

“My father knew how to get in touch with me. You could have asked him.”

“I did. I made the trip twice, and both times he thought I wanted to speak to Rachel. He called her in Paris so we could talk. The second time Rachel didn’t answer and I asked about you. He told me you were engaged and getting married around Christmas. He added that you’d found the perfect wife for your political career. I couldn’t tell you after that. I could have ruined your life.”

“That’s supposed to make it okay?”

Angie kept her head down. “Of course not.”

“Why? Why would you keep it from me all these years?” He tried to keep his voice calm but feared he’d failed. He sounded like a drill sergeant.

“If you remember, you were in Europe. When I realized you were back and living in Houston, I tried your cell number and it wasn’t working anymore.”

“It was stolen in Paris, and I got a new one.”

“I was young and didn’t know what to do. You didn’t love me, and the fact that I was pregnant would only wreck your life, your career. That’s the way I saw it then.”

“So you thought it was better for your daughter and me to never know about each other. Wait. I’ve been back for over two years in Horseshoe and in that time you couldn’t find a moment to tell me the truth?”

She heaved a sigh. “I tried. Three times, if you’ll remember.”

“When?”

“You were home for a while before I even knew you were back in Horseshoe, but when I saw you talking to Wyatt outside the courthouse, I left the bakery and walked over. I asked if you had a few minutes to talk, and you looked at your watch and said you had a meeting in fifteen minutes and that you would catch me later. I waited, but you never made any move to get in touch with me.”

He remembered. “You didn’t make it sound important. I guess I forgot.”

“No, you didn’t forget. You just didn’t want to talk to me because there were two other times I tried to tell you and you brushed me off.”

He frowned. “When?”

“You were busy campaigning for the D.A. job, but I hung in there, wanting you to know you had a child. You were getting in your truck at the courthouse, and I stopped you and asked if you had a few minutes. A blonde walked up. You know those blondes you’re known for dating—a model type, perfect body. And once again you said you’d catch me later. Still, I didn’t give up. At Wyatt and Peyton’s at Christmas I asked again if we could talk. And you know what you did, Hardy?”

He clamped his jaw tight because he had no defense.

“You introduced me to your new girlfriend and you quickly forgot my request. I didn’t know how else I was supposed to tell you when you clearly didn’t want to talk to me. So don’t stand there and point the finger unless you are completely blameless.”

He wasn’t. He knew that, and he was struggling with the consequences of his actions. He remembered all those times she’d approached him and, God help him, he’d thought she had wanted to start their relationship over again. How could he be so blind? So self-centered?

He took a moment to gather his thoughts and tried to find some normalcy in this awful day. Tried to find a reason why he’d shut her out.

He said the first thing that came into his mind. “Why did you marry someone else?”

“My friend Dennis found me crying one day after class. He wanted to know what was wrong, and I told him what I hadn’t told anyone else. We studied together and went to the movies a couple of times. We were good friends, but Dennis wanted it to be more. His solution was we’d just get married and he’d raise the child as his. Out of fear of my mother’s wrath, I agreed.”

“What happened to the marriage?”

She twisted her fingers together. “When I was about seven months, Dennis asked if I loved him. I knew what he wanted to hear, but I couldn’t say the words. He said he’d hoped that I would grow to love him and it was clear that was never going to happen. We ended the marriage amicably. I took back my maiden name. He later married someone else and now has two children.”

“Your sister said he left you.”

“He did. I just never told them the reason why because then I’d have to tell them the truth about Erin.” She took a breath. “At the time I took full responsibility for what happened between us and planned to raise my child alone.”

“She wasn’t just yours.”

Angie buried her face in her hands, and he stilled himself against the emotions churning in him. She raised her head. “How would you have felt if I’d told you back then?”

He swung away and jammed both hands through his hair, irritated he couldn’t respond with an honest heart. His marriage hadn’t lasted. It hadn’t taken him long to figure out he wasn’t in love with Lisa. But still, that didn’t make what Angie had done right.

He swung around. “I would’ve taken care of my kid. She would have known that I was her father. Now I’m a stranger to her. And that’s your fault, Angie.”

“Yes. It’s my fault,” she said without offering one word in her defense. That irritated him even more.

His insides rumbled like thunder before a storm, and any minute Angie was going to feel the full impact of his wrath. To stop the rage building in him, he walked into his daughter’s room and stared at the girl in the bed. Her head tilted to the left and her brown hair clumped around her face. One side of her face was blue, and the white sterile strips on her forehead stood out vividly. She wore a pediatric pink gown that made her skin look even paler. His throat closed up.

My daughter.

Was she okay?

He’d injured his child.

Thoughts pounded at him like hail from the storm brewing in him. He had to get away and make sense of everything. He turned, and Angie stood there, watching him.

“We need to talk,” she said in a low voice.

“I don’t want to hear anything else,” he told her. “Nothing you can say is going to make this better. I have to get away from you. From myself.”

“Hardy, please. I need to know—”

He walked out the door and down the hall. He had no idea where he was going until he reached the entrance. The parking lot loomed in front of him, and he did a quick scan to locate his truck. After climbing inside, he started the engine and headed for somewhere. Or nowhere. He wasn’t quite sure, but any place was better than dealing with a woman who had deceived him.

Angie. Sweet, irresistible Angie had just shattered his heart. And there was no way to forgive that.

Ever.

* * *

ANGIE STARED OUT the window toward Horseshoe. It was dark, but she knew the direction.

She touched the windowpane and the coolness of the glass shot all the way to her heart. She was cold and empty. Somewhere deep inside she found the courage she’d been running on for years. It was like high octane keeping her going. But being strong had cost her more than she’d ever imagined.

She exhaled deeply, turned back to Erin and sat in the chair by the bed, her hand stroking Erin’s face.

After Dennis had left, she hadn’t known how to tell her mother that the marriage was over. Being a strong Catholic, her mother didn’t believe in divorce. So, with her stubborn pride intact, she’d had Erin alone, but after the birth she’d called Patsy and Peggy. She’d needed someone. They got her through it, and then she’d gone home to her parents.

There had been tons of questions from her mother, but her pit-bull sisters had fielded every one of them. And she’d let them protect her until she found the courage once again to stand on her own. It hadn’t been easy, and now she was about to lose it all.

She laid her head on the bed, tears rolling from her eyes. Everyone thought Dennis was Erin’s father, even her family. She’d told no one, not even Dennis, that Hardison Hollister was the father of her baby. That had been her secret.

Looking at her precious daughter, she had one thought. It was over. Her secret wasn’t a secret anymore. Hardy knew he was Erin’s father. She should feel some sort of relief, but the boulder on her chest felt that much heavier. Because it really wasn’t over. The worst was yet to come.

* * *

HARDY’S HEAD POUNDED, and he cursed under his breath. Where was he? It was dark, and he was sitting outside on a bench. A warm breeze touched his face and ruffled his hair. Reaching up to brush it out of his eyes, he realized he had a bottle in his hand. A whiskey bottle.

Just what he needed. He took a swig. Oh, yeah, Tennessee whiskey. It should solve all his problems, or maybe just drown them.

Through the pounding he kept hearing You’re Erin’s father.

He took another swallow, but the sound wouldn’t go away. Damn! He needed more booze.

“Hardy, is that you?”

Hardy blinked and saw at least two Wyatt Carsons standing there. He knew it was him because the moonlight reflected off the badge on his shirt.

“Yeah.”

“What are you doing sitting on the bench in front of the courthouse?”

“Hell, I don’t know.” He turned the bottle up again.

“Are you drunk?”

“Good guess. You’re not the sheriff for nothing.”

Wyatt sat beside him. “Are you drinking that straight?”

“Straight as an arrow to my gut, and I’m waiting for the numbness to knock me on my ass.”

“What’s wrong with you? I know it’s been a rough day, but I’ve never seen you drink like this and I’ve known you all of my life.”

“You know me pretty well, huh?”

“Pretty good.” Wyatt nodded.

“Do you know I have a kid?”

“What?”

“I have a kid, and I found out tonight.”

“You’re talking out of your head.” Wyatt stood. “Let’s go over to the jail and I’ll make some coffee and you can sober up. Then you can tell me what’s going on.”

“I’m telling you now. Damn it! Can’t you hear me?”

“The whole town can hear you, and I don’t think you want them to see the D.A. drunk on his ass.”

“Like I give a damn.” He tipped up the bottle again.

Wyatt jerked it out of his hand. “You’ve had enough.”

Hardy sat with his elbows on his knees, his face buried in his hands. “I have a kid, Wyatt. A kid I know nothing about.”

Wyatt sat down again. “Are you serious?”

“As serious as I’ve ever been.”

“How did you find this out?”

Hardy ran his hands up his face, trying to wipe away her voice. But it was right there, taunting him. He exhaled deeply. “She told me.”

“Who told you?”

“You’d never guess in a million years.”

Wyatt sighed. “Let’s go get some coffee.”

“Angie.”

Complete silence followed the word, and he could see his friend was flabbergasted.

“Are you talking about Angie Wiznowski?”

“Is there another Angie you know?”

“You mean...?”

The storm that had been brewing in him suddenly hit. He jumped to his feet, which was a trick because the world suddenly tipped. His stomach roiled and didn’t give him any time. He threw up everything he had in him, holding on to a tree. Sinking to his knees, he felt like the lowest scum who had ever walked on earth.

Wyatt put an arm around his waist and helped him to his feet. They made their way to the sheriff’s office.

Stuart, a deputy, opened the door, and Hardy headed for the bathroom. After rinsing out his mouth and washing his face, he took a moment to gather his composure. He walked into Wyatt’s office and sank into a chair. A cup of coffee was pushed into his hand, and he held it as if to steady the world around him. After downing two cups, his mind began to clear, but his head felt as big as the Alamo.

Wyatt sat in his leather chair across from him. “Stuart, you can go home. I got it.”

Stuart was thin and wiry and known to have the curiosity of a gossip columnist. “I can stay, Sheriff.”

“Thanks, Stu, but Lamar will be in soon, so go home early.”

“Okay.” Stu ambled slowly to the door, obviously hoping to hear a tidbit of gossip that would be all over Horseshoe in minutes.

“How did you know I was at the courthouse?” Hardy asked. “It’s still dark.”

“Stuart saw you drive up on the curb and watched you for a little bit, and then he called me. He was afraid to approach you. You know, being the D.A. and all, who is known as a respectable man around town.”

Hardy winced. “Okay. Drive it in with a sledgehammer.”

Wyatt got up and brought him another cup of coffee. “Talk, because you weren’t making much sense earlier.”

He sipped the dark brew. “I’m Erin’s father. I wonder how long I’ll have to say that before I’ll really believe it.”

Wyatt tapped a pencil on the desk. “You’ll have to tell me how that’s possible. Angie married some guy she met in Temple. He left her, and she brought the baby home to Horseshoe. How do you fit into this picture? You were in Houston, I believe.”

“It happened before I went to Houston and before Dad and I took Rachel to Paris.”

“And...” Wyatt prompted.

“After our mother was killed, Rachel had a hard time. She was restless and very unhappy. Then she made friends with Angie, who was as calm as a summer’s day. She was a good influence for my sister. Dad threw Rachel a big going-away party and had all her friends over. Angie was there.” He stared down into the coffee cup, not really wanting to share this with his friend. But he had to tell someone. It didn’t take him long to tell about the summer with Angie and what he’d found at the party when he’d gotten home. He took a swallow of coffee to bolster his courage. “I let Angie sleep it off because I knew how her mother was. The next morning things happened that I wish had never happened. She was too young, and I should’ve known better, but I can’t go back and change it.”

“You didn’t see her after that?”

“I saw her in town a few days before we left for Europe. I told her how sorry I was and wished her all the best for the future.”

“It never crossed your mind she could be pregnant?”

“We used protection.”

“Come on, Hardy.”

He ran his hands up his face. “I’m so angry and I want to blame her, but—”

“Did she give a reason for not telling you?”

He set his cup on the desk. “Yeah. I was in Europe at first, but when she heard I was back, she approached my dad and he told her I was engaged. She didn’t want to ruin my life. That’s rich, huh?”

“Sounds like Angie to me. She doesn’t like to hurt people.”

Hardy stood and swiped a hand through his disheveled hair. “Well, she hurt me.”

Wyatt leaned back in his chair. “Did she give a reason for not telling you once you returned to Horseshoe?”

Guilt pounded at him with the force of a baseball bat. “She tried, but I brushed her off every time.”

“Why would you do that?”

He took a ragged breath. “That’s hard to explain, but I didn’t want to get involved with Angie again.”

“Why?”

“I’d rather not talk about it. First, I have to figure out a way to deal with all this anger inside me. And, yeah, a lot of it is at myself.”

“My advice to you is to get over to the hospital and talk to Angie and be there for her and Erin. Put your hurt feelings aside and think about what Angie’s going through now. Do you think you can do that?”

He looked at his friend through narrowed eyes. “You’re taking her side.”

“There are no sides here. You and Angie have to find a balance for Erin.”

“I know that. But what do I do with all this anger?”

“Lay off the booze, for one thing. And take it one day at a time. Once you get to know Erin, she’ll replace all that anger with love.”

“How many times have I seen her at your house playing with Jody?”

“A lot.”

“And I never suspected a thing. Remember that day she and Jody were playing hopscotch on the sidewalk and she fell and skinned her knee? I had just driven up. I picked her up and carried her into the house. She felt like a feather in my arms, a beautiful feather. I picked up my daughter, and I didn’t even know she was mine. That’s what makes me so angry. All the years I’ve missed and she was right under my nose. My child was there, and I never saw her.”

Wyatt came around the desk and patted him on the shoulder. “Sorry, man. That’s rough.”

Hardy drew a deep breath. “I’d better go home, get cleaned up and see how my kid is doing. And I have Dad and Olivia to deal with. I bailed on them last night.”

“Are you going to tell the judge?”

“I might wait before telling him. He’ll want to rush in and cause all kinds of problems. Right now I’m just feeling my way and hoping to see and spend some time with my child.”

“What about Olivia?”

“I don’t know, Wyatt. She’s not going to be happy, but I have a kid and I’m not walking away from her.” He frowned. “Do you have any idea where my truck is?”

“You jumped the curb at the courthouse and it’s parked half on, half off the lawn. The quicker you get it off, the better it will be for the gossip, because come daylight, your story is going to be all over town.”

Hardy headed for the door. “Thanks, Wyatt.”

“I take it the Wiznowskis don’t know you’re Erin’s biological father.”

He turned back. “I assume they think the ex is the father.”

“If you think Bubba is hard to deal with, wait until the news spreads through the rest of the family. You’ll have your hands full defending yourself.”

“I hadn’t thought of that, and I really don’t care about their reaction. I only care about getting to know my daughter.”

“What made Angie tell you now?”

Hardy shrugged. “I kept pressing her about Erin’s father. He needed to be there, and she was very evasive about him. Maybe she got tired of me pressuring her or maybe she just got tired of keeping her secret. I don’t know. She just blurted it out.”

“Good luck, man. I’m here if you need me.”

“Thanks.”

As he backed his truck off the lawn, he knew Wyatt was right. His name would be mud all over town. But he wasn’t worried about that. The only worry he had was how to make a connection to a little girl he didn’t even know.

Because he was her father.

Chapter Five

Hardy sped down the county blacktop to the Circle H Ranch. He drove under the wrought iron arch entrance and onto the graveled road that led to the colonial-style two-story house. Brown board fences bordered him on both sides. Live oaks graced the fence all the way to the house. In places their branches intertwined, giving a shady umbrella effect.

He swung into his parking spot in the detached garage. After walking through a breezeway into the kitchen, he found his dad, Mavis and Harvey Weltzen eating breakfast. Mavis had been the housekeeper for years and Harvey was the foreman of the ranch.

His dad looked up from his plate. “Where in the hell have you been?”

Judge Hardison Sr. was a barrel-chested man who exuded confidence and attitude. His booming voice was known to stop criminals in their tracks. Most people feared him because of his strong stance on crime and morality. There was no leeway, according to him.

“I told you, I was involved in an accident and I had to handle things.”

“You should’ve been man enough to phone and let us know what was going on. We worried all night. Olivia’s been calling and calling.” His dad looked him up and down. “You look fine. What kind of accident?”

The criticism stung, and Hardy bit his tongue. “A little girl ran out in front of my truck and I hit her.”

“Oh, my God!” Mavis covered her mouth with her hand in shock. “Is she okay?”

“She’s in the hospital in Temple with a broken leg, some cracked ribs and a bruise on her head, but the doctor said she’s going to be fine.”

“Where did you hit this girl?” his dad asked in his most authoritative voice.

“On Magnolia Street. I was on my way home.”

“Who is she?”

“Angie Wiznowski’s daughter.”

“Did Wyatt take a report?”

“Not yet, but I’m sure he will.”

His dad pointed a finger at him. “Get this swept under the rug as fast as you can.”

Hardy clenched his jaw. “I’m not sweeping anything under the rug. It was an accident. If people can’t understand that, then they have a problem.”

“Boy, you’ve got a lot to learn.”

“I’m the D.A. of this county, and I will make sure that the legal procedure is followed, even when it includes me.”

“If charges are filed, you can kiss that D.A. job goodbye and any chance of running for district judge will be gone. Talk to Angie. She’s a sweet girl. She’ll understand.”

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