Confusion was not a familiar state for Daniel. Until now.

This situation with Erin was a no-win wrapped up in a heartache. There was so much on the line. But his daughter was bursting with the pride of finally meeting her mama, and discovering Erin’s accomplishments.

At only thirty-four, Erin was a gifted photographer who had been awarded some of the world’s highest honors for her work. Daniel was not immune to the impressive allure of Erin Gray and her talent.

True, this Erin might be different from the young woman who’d stood before the justice of the peace with him over sixteen years ago, but when Daniel looked into her eyes, a glimmer of that skittish girl still existed.

He knew her fears, knew her past and knew she would run away to catch up with her future as soon as she got well again.

And that was exactly what he wanted. Or was it?

MAE NUNN

grew up in Houston and graduated from the University of Texas with a degree in communications. When she fell for a transplanted Englishman who lived in Atlanta, she hung up her Texas spurs to become a Georgia Southern belle. Mae recently retired after thirty years of corporate life. When asked how she felt about being a full-time writer, Mae summed her response up with one word, “Yeeeeeha!”

A Texas Ranger’s Family
Mae Nunn

www.millsandboon.co.uk

A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.

—Ecclesiastes 4:12

A Texas Ranger’s Family is for my darlin’ Michael. Thank you for taking care of me, putting up with me and loving me completely as only you can do. Our twenty-year marriage is proof that happily-ever-after endings occur outside of fairy tales and romance novels. Psalms 37:4 tells us to “Delight yourself in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart.” Honey, with God as the third strand of our braided cord, I have more than I ever dreamed of. You make it all worthwhile. I adore you.

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

Chapter Seventeen

Epilogue

Questions for Discussion

Chapter One

“Erin, are you awake?”

It was only four words, yet the man’s accent was vaguely familiar.

“Yes, I am.” Erin Gray’s heart lurched at the first recognizable voice she’d heard since regaining consciousness in the ICU of Walter Reed hospital.

The thud of footsteps brought him closer.

“I can’t open my eyes!” Her cry was not much more than a raspy whisper, excruciating at that.

“It hurts to move, to talk, to breathe. Hurts everywhere!” She’d give in to the panic rising from her gut but even a single wrench would be too painful.

Tight strips of gauze covered her eyes blocking out all light. Her head and shoulders thumped like the blades of a Blackhawk. Bandages weighed her torso down like a lead blanket. She licked sore lips with a dry tongue. Her mouth was desperate for moisture. Her throat raw.

Respirator.

That’s right, a nurse had explained something about being on a respirator for almost three weeks.

Three weeks in a medically induced coma!

Accustomed as Erin was to a military cot, the soft contours of a hospital mattress had produced a throbbing low in her back. She was desperate to sit up or roll to one side. But even the smallest voluntary muscle twitch took her breath away, and if she hadn’t been told otherwise, Erin would swear she was in a straightjacket.

“Try to take it easy.” The kind man gave a gentle pat to her left hand, the only area of her upper body that seemed free of restraints. “It’s not as bad as it seems right now and nowhere near as bad as it coulda been. The heat from the truck bomb that hit your convoy in Kirkuk should have blinded you, but you’re only dealin’ with scorched corneas. The best ophthalmologist in this place says your healin’ is right on schedule.” His words were reassuring.

“Thank you, Lord,” she mouthed. Her one and only talent was photography. Without work behind the camera lens, she’d have no work at all. God was good, her life and vision had been spared.

“What about my arm?” She needed the truth. “I can’t move my arm.” A disability would end her imbedded service in Iraq, her limb just one more casualty of a foreign war. “Will I—” she couldn’t get the words out the first time “—lose it?”

“God was watchin’ over you. Any muscle-bound marine would have bled out from that kind of tissue damage, but I hear your commanding officer got you to the medics in time. You’re not out of the woods yet, but all signs are positive.”

It was critical, but nothing she couldn’t overcome.

A plastic straw pressed to her lips and she sipped carefully, then breathed her first sigh of relief since awakening a few hours earlier.

“Thank you…” She waited for him to say a name she felt she would recognize.

“Daniel.”

The surprise caught in her ragged airway.

“Yeah, it’s me, Erin. Your bureau chief notified us you’d been critically wounded.”

Daniel Stabler was the emergency contact she’d listed on the application when she’d first gone to work for World View News. She would have left the form incomplete but the human resources police had insisted. So her ex-husband’s name was the one she’d used to fill in the blank.

“I’m so sorry J.D. troubled you, Daniel,” she rasped, thinking she’d give her boss a piece of her mind once she was able to yell again. “He should have known you were only to be contacted in case of a life or death situation.”

“Erin, it was life or death. Nobody expected you to make it.” He delivered the news in the steady, calm Texas accent she recalled as pure Daniel. “Your lungs shouldn’t be workin’ after the fumes you inhaled, and there was enough staph in your body to kill a Dallas Cowboy linebacker. The fact that you’re here today is nothin’ short of miraculous.”

She knew a little something about miracles. She’d tried countless times to trap one in the viewfinder of her Nikon, to capture one on film. She was grateful to be alive, and surely God spared her for a purpose. For work she still needed to do in this world.

“So, if I’m back from the brink of death, whatever possessed J.D. to notify you now?” She wheezed out the long sentence.

“He called me weeks ago while you were on the flight to the States. We arrived in Washington the day after you did and we’ve been here ever since.”

She swallowed another sip of water, careful not to choke on the revelation. Why would Daniel come? After the way she’d run out on their marriage he had every reason and every right to stay away, no matter the severity of her circumstances. Maybe he needed something?

The lanky young man she’d married so many years ago stood tall in her mind’s eye. He was a portrait of good intentions and Southern manners in worn-out boots. He hadn’t seemed much more than a boy but he knew his heart’s desire just as well as Erin had known her demons. No man ever wanted a family with a happily-ever-after ending more than Daniel. And he’d been willing to give his best shot at what she’d known for a fact was only a fairy tale.

He’d begged her to marry him and keep the child they hadn’t planned. Erin was just a college sophomore when she agreed. She tried to buy into the illusion Daniel spun about a happy family, a foreign concept for an orphaned girl raised in foster care. And after seven more months of pregnancy and twenty-three hours of labor, she gave birth to a daughter.

Three sleepless days and nights into motherhood, Erin lost all ability to distinguish the colicky squalls of her baby from the anguished screams of her childhood memories. She coped in the way she learned from growing up with a raging father in the house. Daniel returned from work to find the tiny infant wailing in her bassinet, while Erin lay curled into the dark confines of their small closet.

“Are you crazy? How could you leave her alone?” Daniel shouted above the baby’s cries. He could never understand and Erin couldn’t have explained at that age.

So she never tried. She recognized her foolish mistake in believing in his ideals.

She could never be part of a family, never even be comfortable with her own infant. The baby deserved a chance to grow up in a safe home.

So Erin ran like the coward she was.

Lying in the hospital bed now, she conjured up the vision that had assuaged her guilt for sixteen years. Daniel’s sinewy arms gently cradling his daughter, his head bent close as he whispered comfort to the tiny life flailing beneath a pale pink blanket.

No, there was no chance the man so determined to have the treasure of his child needed anything from the woman who believed staying as far away as possible was the best thing to do for her daughter.

So, why had Daniel come, and more importantly, why had he stayed so long?

“Did you hear me, Erin?” He touched her hand softly to get her attention.

“Sorry, I guess not. The pain meds have my mind wandering between decades.”

“That’s a good sign. The doc will be happy to hear you’ve still got a memory.”

She had one but only selectively. Long ago she’d resolved to have dreams of her own, dreams so big there would be no room in her grown-up mind for the unbearable recollections of childhood.

“What time is it?” She needed an anchor, a sense of night and day and of what had transpired in the world while she’d been drifting in nothingness, evidently with Daniel close at her side.

“It’s after one. J.D. and Dana should be back up from the cafeteria any minute now.”

Dana.

The name they’d given the baby who’d inherited Erin’s tainted genes.

Erin had left Texas to protect the defenseless life she brought into the world. And all these years later against every precaution to prevent it, that life was about to collide with hers, again.

The creak of a door and lighter steps signaled a nurse’s approach. Metal bearings whirred as a nearby curtain eased back so the attendant could check the machines that hovered nearby.

Erin felt helpless as a turtle on its back, completely dependent upon someone else for her most basic needs. The room was silent as she waited for the encouraging voice of the ICU nurse. The footsteps stopped to her left but there was no conversation, no efficient activity, no tugging off of surgical tape or changing of bedclothes. Only the mechanical beeping and humming of machines.

She held her breath as her mind conjured up the worst that could happen in her world of blindness. But nothing in her imagination prepared Erin for the reality beside her in the quiet room.

“Is she awake, Daddy?” The soft voice of a teenage girl drifted across the empty space that was suddenly crowded with expectation.

Daniel gripped the brim of his Texas Ranger Stetson to mask the trembling of his hands. His heart rattled against his ribs like a diamondback warning off an intruder. Nothing in a dozen years of law enforcement had invoked this visceral response, this quaking in his gut. No drug-ring infiltration or arms-dealer confrontation had imbued this feeling. Where dangerous men had failed to shake Daniel’s reserve, this woman lying in Walter Reed’s critical ICU had succeeded. Daniel Stabler was afraid. Afraid this moment would mark the unraveling of his world.

He held his worries in check, allowing his Dana her first verbal encounter with the mother who’d been a phantom for sixteen years. J.D.’s call had changed everything. Daniel owed his child the one opportunity she had to see her mother alive.

As the days turned to weeks, his daughter insisted she would not leave without Erin. He’d accepted Dana’s proclamation without argument. Even agreed with it since things had been grim at first. But he realized now with shame that he’d never trusted God for Erin’s healing. In fact, Daniel had done everything he could to prepare Dana for the inevitability of Erin’s death. Now that it was clear she would survive, Dana was insistent upon taking her mama back to Houston with them.

“Daddy?” Dana gripped his forearm, stared up with glistening, hazel eyes. His daughter’s face was flushed with excitement over an all-consuming dream about to be fulfilled. Under normal circumstances there was little he wouldn’t sacrifice to see this welcome change. His often-sulking sixteen-year-old was inclined toward ghoulish makeup and shrouds of black Goth clothing, looking more like she belonged to Ozzy Osbourne than Walker, Texas Ranger.

“Daddy, what if she can’t hear me?” Dana pressed a palm to the anxiety in her throat, giving him a glimpse of fingernails polished black and bitten to the quick.

“I hear you.” The response from the bed was raspy.

“What?” Dana’s head, dotted with short purple spikes of hair, swiveled toward the sound and then back again. “Did she say something?”

“I said I heard you, which is about the only thing I can still do.”

Daniel noted the voice grew stronger with each word. It was time for the introductions he’d never expected or intended to make. He would need the wisdom of Solomon to navigate this situation if it came close to what Dana envisioned.

“Erin, this precious girl is Dana Marie, our daughter.” He gave his only child’s shoulders a gentle squeeze. “She’s been by your bed every hour the hospital staff allowed and quite a few they don’t know about. And when she’d let me join the party, I’ve been here, too.”

“That was very kind of both of you.” Erin was cordial, reacting more as Daniel had expected than Dana had hoped. “But as you’ve probably heard, I’m going to be fine so you should get back to your own lives now.”

“How can you say that to us?” Dana’s words were awash with indignation. She wriggled to be free of Daniel’s hold just as she had a thousand times in her young life.

“I’ve been crazy worried about you!” Dana inched between the mountain of machines and the bed. Hours of questioning the nurses had familiarized her with the workings of all the equipment. She’d overcome all fear of tripping a wire or kinking a hose.

“I’ve been waiting for you my whole life. And I’ve been in this room praying for you to wake up for eighteen days! I’ve counted the tiles on this ugly floor and the metal hooks that hold the curtain to that track thing on the ceiling. I know how many beeps the heart monitor makes between your breaths and how many times your IV drips in thirty minutes. I’ve watched while they’ve bathed you and changed your bandages. The scars are wicked now, but they’ll be really cool once they heal.”

Dana’s words gushed out, a torrent of teenage emotion demanding release. She dared to touch her fingertips to the back of Erin’s closed fist.

When Dana spoke again her voice was soft, thoughtful.

“I found out that underneath all that gauze your hair is the same color mine used to be.”

Daniel’s heart ached in his chest like he’d run a wind sprint. There was no sign of his physical attributes in his child. She had long been desperate to find a connection, a simple resemblance to somebody. Her euphoria over the discovery of something as mundane as her mama’s hair color had reduced Daniel’s sixteen years of single parenting to the value of a toilet plunger. Nice to know it’s there but not something to brag about to your friends.

Dana continued, “And I need to see whether or not our eyes are the same, too.”

“I’d like to see that myself.” Erin relaxed her left fist and slowly rotated her wrist, not exactly welcoming but neither brushing away the touch of the girl who seemed brave and outspoken.

Must have gotten that from her daddy. Erin imagined a female cookie-cutter version of Daniel. Tall and thin, with those naturally expressive brows of his.

“As a matter of fact, I’d like to see anything.” Erin tried to make light of her blindness when in truth, the skin on her neck crawled at the thought of being witnessed this way. Broken. Scarred. Vulnerable.

“Waking up to all this is pretty creepy,” Erin admitted. “So I’m sorry about what I said before. I appreciate you being here with me.”

She tried to make her croaky words sound sincere but the whole situation was like an out-of-body experience. Maybe any moment the going-toward-the-light part would start. No such luck. She was still very much in this life, in this damaged body, in her dark cocoon with her nose twitching from antiseptic cleanser and no ability to scratch.

“Butter bean, let’s sit over here and give Erin a minute to rest her voice.”

Feet shuffled away from the bed and Erin thanked God once again that her hearing had been spared. It told her that within arm’s reach, the most thoughtful man she’d ever known stood sentry. She wouldn’t kid herself that his vigil was for her. No, Daniel would provide the best for his child at all cost. But had he ever considered the price might go this high?

Erin certainly never had. Though she prayed often for the husband and child she left behind, it had never crossed her mind that one day they’d cross her path. And now they were a stone’s throw away, not that she could toss a rock if her life depended on it. Her bandaged eyes burned with the notion.

A door creaked and more footsteps thumped against the floor.

“Hello, Ms. Gray.” Another voice joined the room. “I am Dr. Agawa.”

Fabric rustled on the bed as shoes and chairs bumped about. Erin assumed a path was being cleared for his approach.

“I see your Texas visitors are here again today. You are fortunate to have such loyal friends.”

“How are you, sir?” Daniel’s greeting was personable, followed by the sound of palms slapping together as the men shook hands.

“I am good, Daniel. Excited to see our patient alert, as I’m sure you and Dana are, as well.”

The words were like poking a fresh bruise. Strangers had been attending to her most personal needs. Not only had they invaded her privacy, they seemed to have bonded right under her itchy nose. For the first time she felt kinship with the images in her portfolio of suffering individuals helpless to change their circumstances.

“My ophthalmic team has been treating the thermal burn to your corneas. You are healing very well, indeed. Time for a look,” Dr. Agawa announced.

“You’re going to remove the bandages?” Erin was hopeful and horrified in the same breath. She’d be brought out of this darkness before an audience.

“Yes, and if all is what I expect, we won’t reapply them,” the doctor reassured her.

An electric motor hummed as the head of the bed began a steady incline. The shifting of her spine and the repositioning of her weight was painfully pleasant. A loud groan accompanied her long sigh.

The movement stopped. “I’m sorry to hurt you,” a woman spoke from the foot of the bed. “This is the first time we’ve raised your head since we brought you out of the coma.”

“Actually, it’s lovely to change positions. Please continue,” Erin encouraged the attendant.

“That is very good to hear, Ms. Gray.” The doctor seemed pleased. “Having you upright will make it easier to remove the compresses. I believe you will see fairly well. But if your vision is blurred for a time, do not be overly concerned.”

Her heart’s naturally slow rhythm shifted like a souped-up Humvee. Her cardiac monitor beeped into high gear. Someone leaned past the bed and turned down the volume.

“There is nothing to fear,” the kindly doctor promised.

Fear? There was no way this pounding of her heart was a sign of fear. She’d been calm when she’d photographed the execution of Saddam Hussein. She’d never broken a sweat when her World View crew had come under guerrilla fire in Somalia, and not even a close encounter with Brad and Angelina in a Parisian restaurant had made Erin’s pulse quicken.

No, she’d survived the worst fear had to offer at nine years old, when her drunken father had beat her mother to death. Since then there hadn’t been a threat Erin couldn’t look in the eye while she kept a steady hand on the shutter release.

“May I have a sip of water?”

“I’ll do it,” Daniel’s daughter insisted, shuffling closer to the bed, rattling more ice into the cup and angling a straw into Erin’s mouth.

The liquid was a cool blessing. She curved her lips in a smile of gratitude.

“What was the last thing you recall seeing before your convoy was ambushed?” Dr. Agawa made conversation as he helped to gently raise her head away from the mattress.

“Actually, not much. We were in the middle of an Iraqi sandstorm. Our battalion had pulled to the side of the road outside of Kirkuk to wait for it to pass. The center of those storms is as black as any darkness you’ve ever encountered. So, we never saw it coming.”

Scissors snipped through thick tape and confident hands unwound the long strips that secured soft pads to her eyelids. As she waited for the pressure of the bandages to abate, a warm hand covered her fingers that had gone cold and trembling with anticipation.

Would her eyesight be the price she paid for the talent that had earned her a Pulitzer prize? Had her bizarre drive to validate her life’s purpose by capturing a miracle on film come to a fruitless end?

“Ms. Gray, please be patient and keep your eyes shut for a moment longer.”

The compresses fell away revealing a sense of light just beyond her closed lids. Then darkness covered her face as the florescent fixtures were extinguished.

“Open your eyes and look toward the ceiling, please,” he instructed.

Fluttering her eyelids was wonderful, like a good stretch after a long flight. But as a bright penlight was shone into first one eye and then the other, it was impossible to make out anything. The doctor agreeably mumbled to himself in Japanese before instructing the nurse to turn on the overhead lights one at a time. With the first flash, Erin squinted to adjust to the brightness, then looked in the direction of the person holding her hand.

The tall gentleman beside her was even more handsome than the skinny boy she remembered so well. The heart monitor began to beep loudly again. Daniel reminded her of a grinning but blurry George Strait. Quite something.

The second switch was snapped on and more light filled the room. Erin’s eyes cut left and right to find the fuzzy faces of the doctor and nurse who still supported her shoulders. When the final bank of bulbs glowed overhead, she turned her attention to the foot of the bed and focused hard on the girl dressed all in black, glints of silver dangling from her ears. Dana hugged herself with crossed arms that did nothing to disguise a body well-developed at a young age. As Erin found clear spots in her vision, she looked for signs of Daniel’s tanned good looks in his daughter. Instead she noted fair skin, a high forehead, a pointed chin and what looked like spikes of purple sprouting from her head.

As Erin’s squint locked on a dark gaze, her breathing stopped and her stomach quaked low in her abdomen. She knew those eyes. Up close there would be flecks of gold.

Erin was a little girl again, hiding with her sleeping baby brother in a dark pantry that smelled of rotting onions. Her mother’s screams had mercifully ended hours before but Erin had remained paralyzed, didn’t dare to make their presence known. Not even to the people who had finally come to help, the adults who were calling her name.

Suddenly the door swung open and amber eyes with glints of gold glared down from her big sister’s face. Her look was as accusing as her words.

“I knew you’d be in your hiding place, you little coward! You didn’t do anything to help Mama. Daddy finally killed her!”

Erin blinked, expecting her eyes and imagination were deceiving her addled brain. But the proof stood a few feet away and bore no resemblance to Daniel. From what Erin could make out, hair color was the only physical trait she’d passed on to her daughter. The rest of the girl was the mirror image of Erin’s older sister.

Alison.

“How soon can I get out of here?” Erin asked J.D. the moment Daniel and Dana left the room to give her some privacy with her boss.

Her Pillsbury Doughboy of a bureau chief was all smiles to see her sitting upright, her eyes unfettered by the bandages. But she was far from enjoying the blurry images around her. The very thought of being so needy and at the mercy of others, even in a hospital, made her insides shiver. Living with troops in Iraq was a whole lot easier than letting someone else call the shots or take control of her life.

“Take it easy, Wonder Woman. You’re still looking at another week here, then once they’re satisfied with your vitals and blood work, they’ll release you to a rehab facility.”

Rehab facility. The term conjured up dingy images of an institution filled with those who needed caregivers.

“Not if I can help it,” she murmured.

“There’s always the option of going to Texas with Daniel and Dana. They’re sincere about this, you know. It’s all that girl has talked about for days.”

Erin closed her eyes against the thought, reflecting instead on all the injuries she had to overcome.

“Let me make sure I got it all straight.” She began to recite her list of traumas. “My right arm was half blown off but thankfully reattached and though I’m going to survive my fingers may not. My pelvis is bruised, but not broken so that’s reason to be thankful. My corneas are healing but who knows whether or not I’ll be able to focus a camera lens again. The concussion from the IED generally produces long-term memory issues so I’m lucky I know my own name.” She paused to consider her circumstances, grateful to be alive but beginning to feel the anger of having lost control of her destiny.

“Oh, and the only viable option to my apartment is a nursing home.”

“It’s called a rehab facility,” J.D. countered.

“That’s code for smelly, depressing nursing home and we both know it.” Though it was shameful it felt amazingly good to gripe a little now that her voice was back.

“Erin, your frustration is understandable. Anyone in your condition would need to vent.” He squeezed her hand again. J.D. oozed calm and patience, traits he’d never displayed in the ten years she’d covered assignments for World View. His kindness didn’t make her feel any better. In fact, it made the few hair follicles that weren’t taped to her skin prickle with worry.

“Sooooo,” she dragged out the syllable. “Am I out of a job?” It might not be the question most people in her situation would ask, but work was her life. It was her world.

“Would you please stop imagining the worst?” J.D. sighed loud enough for Erin to hear. The bedside manner he’d worn for her sake was wearing thin. “You have months of sick time and excellent medical insurance. And don’t insult either of us with the insinuation that I’d let you get away from World View. You’ve shown more guts for living embedded with our troops and compassion for victims of war than the UN and the Red Cross rolled together.”

When she didn’t respond he patted her hand, accepting her silence.

“Kid, I’m sorry to leave already, but the nurse on the other side of the window is waving me out.” He pushed his chair away and stood. “I’ll be back tomorrow so you can make some decisions. There are nice places in Washington but I thought you might want to get back up to the city so I have a list of New York rehab hospitals to tell you about, too.”

“Can it wait a few days?” The idea of being relegated to an institution, no matter how well the reputation, made her empty stomach churn. “I know you want to get home to Mary Ellen and the boys but I’m going to need some time to ingest all this stuff.”

“Sure thing, no rush. And while you’re laid up, I’ve got some great reading to keep you occupied.”

“Not again, J.D.”

He regularly mentioned that there was a box of letters for her in the mail room but she always declined to have it forwarded. She wasn’t exactly Annie Leibovitz so what could possibly be in the postal tub besides credit card applications and Publishers Clearing House offers?

He smacked a loud kiss on her cheek and left Erin alone with her thoughts in the quiet room.

Even if only briefly, her situation was hopelessly out of her hands. But life had taught Erin to be a realist. Going home to her third floor walk-up was definitely not doable. She accepted the fact; her only choice was between a stinky nursing home in D.C. and a stinky nursing home in New York. Too bad a sweaty military Quonset hut wasn’t on the list. That would make it a no-brainer.

There’s always the option of going to Texas with Daniel and Dana. She recalled J.D.’s comment.

Is that truly an option, Lord? she whispered. After all my years of wandering the world in search of images that will honor You, have You brought me back to make things up to my child? To honor my family?

Chapter Two

The 767 eased to a stop at Houston’s Intercontinental Airport. Daniel slid his laptop into a worn leather case and stepped into the crowded, narrow aisle. He dipped the crown of his Ranger Stetson to avoid the low doorway of the aircraft and was immediately assaulted by a warm burst of muggy air. He merged with the mass of summer travelers, knowing his daughter’s flying experience would be a far cry from mundane.

He’d opted to use the other half of his commercial ticket after J.D.’s assurance that Dana would be secure on the pricey chartered Maverick. Neither female had objected, worn out as they all were from debating where Erin should recuperate. She’d been adamant that she wasn’t going to a recovery hospital, and determined to pay for professional home care. It had taken her boss to dissuade Erin from such a phenomenal out-of-pocket expense when her family was so willing to help.

Daniel had sought the Word for guidance, afraid he was a loser whichever way Erin decided. Maybe Dana’s dream of a family could be fulfilled, even if his had long ago dimmed. She was desperate for this time with a mother reluctant to go into a setting where she would constantly be put on the spot for information. They’d finally agreed between the three of them that Dana would stifle the endless stream of questions and Erin would share when she felt the time was right.

The cards were definitely stacked in Erin’s favor but he and Dana agreed privately that a tight-lipped Erin was better than no Erin at all. And frankly, Daniel was looking forward to being the parent willing to talk while Erin accepted the blame for the gaps in Dana’s family tree.

Leaving Walter Reed for the trip to Houston this morning had given Daniel time apart from the two women to figure out whether or not to come clean with the rest of the story. So far, no revelation had presented itself and he was okay with that. Daniel had been alone with his secret for so many years that breaking his silence would be like betraying a partner. He’d never even considered it because there would be a high price to pay with his daughter.

And now, with Erin.

For the past week he and Dana had trained for the care of Erin’s injuries. Anything less than around-the-clock attention for the immediate present, followed by intense physical therapy could cost the use of her right arm. It was mostly an academic effort on his part since Dana insisted on being the one to do everything for Erin in spite of their near-disastrous first encounter.

Erin was quick to recover from her initial reaction to seeing Dana for the first time, but the damage was done.

“She thinks I’m ugly.” Dana cried during their ride back to the hotel. He comforted his daughter by joking that they hadn’t prepared Erin for an eyebrow ring, pointy purple hair and black lipstick. That was enough to make anybody gasp. They laughed it off and let it go, but he knew Dana was hurt.

Still, she wanted to take care of her mama and was of the unshakable opinion that she could fill the role of Erin’s caregiver just fine on her own. So, Dana wasn’t gonna like it even one little bit that Daniel had arranged for backup. He had imported the only person he could trust to run his house, help out with Erin’s needs and keep an eye on his daughter if he had an overnight investigation. But most importantly, this particular backup would prevent the neighbor’s tongues from wagging right out of their heads when his mysterious ex-wife moved in.

His not-so-secret weapon was LaVerne Stabler, a one-woman force of nature. She was a home-cookin’ and house-cleanin’ machine. A whirlwind of efficiency that meant business and wouldn’t stand for anything even close to ungodliness. Given the choice, any cowhand or cousin on their West Texas ranch would sooner stomp on a prairie rattler than cross his mama.

Ironically, even though he exposed his daughter to her grandma on a regular basis, Dana still hadn’t figured out what everybody else in the Stabler clan knew; life was just easier in general when LaVerne had things her way.

Daniel slung his carry-on bag into the passenger’s seat of his oversized SUV, grateful for the diesel guzzler that would allow him to transport the medical equipment that came along with their guest. It was going be an unpredictable time, and Daniel prayed to maintain his peace when he thought about being trapped under the same roof with three women who held the power to rock his world.

“What’s she doing here?” Dana hissed.

Erin noted the angry slash of scarlet that blazed across Dana’s cheeks as she pointed toward the white Cadillac marred by whiskers of red grime on the fenders. Daniel pulled his behemoth SUV into his driveway and came to a stop.

“You invited that old busybody, didn’t you?” Dana spoke to her father through clenched teeth.

In the backseat of the SUV, Erin flinched at the accusation. So much of the teen reminded her of Alison. Each time Dana had hovered over the gurney during the flight from Washington to Houston, Erin had battled a gut-deep urge to recoil. She’d feigned sleep most of the way to dissuade any conversation. She’s not Alison became a silent mantra whenever Erin looked into the girl’s eyes.

Daniel released his seat belt and turned to his daughter. “I’m gonna let that slide because you’ve been through a lot in the last few weeks. And because I had a feelin’ you wouldn’t think this was a pleasant surprise. But that old busybody is my mama and if you ever talk ugly about her in my presence again, I will make you go back to your natural hair and nail color and take out all your earrings. Got that, Morticia?”

“Yes, sir,” Dana muttered, faking repentance.

From Erin’s position wedged among many pillows, she observed a brief father-daughter discussion on guest protocol and house rules. The teen negotiated like a United Nations delegate. It was evident she was an only child, always respected as if she were an adult. In the few minutes it took them to reach agreeable terms, the narcotics wore off and Erin’s right forearm began pulsing pain. With the bulk of the bandages removed, she had regained control of her head and left torso. But her lower back and hips were still locked down and dependent for movement, especially during the killer hours of torture, aka physical therapy.

“Here comes the other third of your care team,” Daniel announced.

“Serenity now,” Dana grumbled as she spotted the figure headed their way.

A woman of indefinable years and weight lumbered toward the SUV. She had a Humpty Dumpty figure, bigger on the bottom than on the top. Her bleached updo was complemented by scarlet lipstick and a When-I-am-an-old-woman-I-shall-wear-purple caftan. On her feet were matching sparkly flip-flops.

“Dad, Grandma looks like she’s going on a cruise.”

“Will you let the lady enjoy being away from the ranch for a change? If she wants to treat this like a vacation, so be it.”

“Well, howdy! If you aren’t a sight for sore eyes.” There was no mistaking the natural Texas drawl.

The woman grabbed the door handle and grunted as she pulled herself up onto the driver’s running board. She poked her head through the open window to plant a loud smack on Daniel’s left cheek.

“I thought my sweet boy would never get home.”

She blew an air kiss toward her grandchild and waved a greeting to the backseat. “My word, look at all that stuff.” She counted the boxes and bags by pointing a long nail that matched her lip color.

“Grandma Verne, what have you done to your hands?”

“They’re called press-on nails. I found them in the sale aisle at the drug store and I think they look kinda nice.”

While LaVerne turned her right hand palm outward to admire her faux manicure, Dana glanced into the backseat and rolled her eyes upward beneath kohl-smudged lids. Erin pressed her lips together but let her eyes squint agreeably. She had to admit Dana was amusing and the constant self-chatter had made the last week in the hospital pass quickly.

“Let’s get everybody inside before the neighbors take an interest,” Daniel instructed.

“Too late for that.” LaVerne backed away from the SUV while Daniel stepped out. “As soon as I got here on Thursday evening, that pretty young woman across the street came right over to see if you were home.”

Erin noted his quick glance up the block and failure to acknowledge the comment. A girlfriend? The throbbing in her arm increased. She was beginning to feel nauseous.

“Excuse me,” Erin called. “I hate to break up the reunion but it’s time for my meds.”

The father-and-daughter team launched into precision drill activity. Car doors slammed, different doors opened, metal creaked and clanked as cases were removed and a wheelchair was snapped into shape. In another moment Daniel was beside her, solid and clean-smelling as he lifted her out of the vehicle. He gently positioned her into the waiting chair and then stepped away from any further contact.

Dana pushed and he walked alongside reintroducing the two women.

“Erin, I’m sure you remember my mama, LaVerne Stabler. And Mama, it’s been a lot of years but you know Erin. She won a Pulitzer prize for the pictures she took in Darfur last year.”

“Yes, I heard, son. Who woulda guessed that she’d parlay running off into a celebrity career?”

“Mama.” Daniel’s censuring tone made only the one word necessary.

Erin expected much worse and deserved anything she got. Judging from the way the Stabler jaws clenched, a lot was going unspoken. For now, anyway.

The move-in passed into a welcome haze after Daniel efficiently administered a dose of pain meds into the still-present IV. Antibiotics dripped day and night to finish off the killer staph while wounds healed and bones mended. The constant jostling of the past twenty-four hours had Erin’s muscles stinging and her stomach cringing. It was sleep or barf, so she slipped into numb unconsciousness.

Daniel tilted the lamp shade toward the wall so the low light it cast wouldn’t disturb Erin’s nap. Thick crew socks muffled his steps toward the metal bed frame. He was pleased LaVerne had thought to set up the hospital rental on the spacious sun porch he’d built last fall.

He gave in to the urge to study her face, attributing his curiosity to years of surveillance work that made it second nature. Her skin was clear, but too tanned and weathered for only thirty-four. Her short auburn hair was sleek and seasoned with occasional flecks of silver. Thick lashes fringed her closed eyes and a handful of freckles were her only adornment apart from an application of Dana’s tinted lip balm.

From the few photos of Erin he’d found on the Internet, it seemed she still didn’t wear much makeup or dress in a manner that would draw attention. Too early in life she’d mastered the ability to blend into the background so she wouldn’t be noticed. He figured that served her well as she waited, still as a fence post, for the right moment to take her photographs. From what he’d witnessed of her career over the years, she was bold to the point of being foolhardy, getting shots others couldn’t manage or wouldn’t attempt.

It was no surprise to Daniel that she’d won so many awards. In a way he was actually proud Erin had made a life for herself, but that made it doubly difficult to deny Dana’s growing need to know something, anything about her mama.

As Erin’s reputation grew, he was almost glad for the terms of the letter she’d left behind in their one-bedroom Austin apartment. She admitted she’d made a terrible mistake in believing she could have a normal life and didn’t dare stay another night. Anonymity was all she asked and in exchange she gave up what he wanted more than his own life.

Their child.

At the time, Daniel had no choice but to live with the deal. He’d known Erin was emotionally damaged, but thought he could love her back to health. He’d been wrong. She’d signed and returned the legal papers giving him full custody. Then she’d changed her last name, and for the past sixteen years Erin had been what her daughter could never be. Invisible.

Daniel almost convinced himself that they wouldn’t have made it as a family, anyway. Erin had been deeply wounded too early in life. Over the years he’d uncovered what she’d hidden about her past and often felt he knew too much.

If all the secrets, his included, ever spilled out of his tight grip, what a devastating mess it might be. He was playing Russian roulette by allowing her into the life he’d painstakingly built for himself and Dana. But what choice did he have?

“Daddy, what are you doing in here?” Dana whispered as she crept up behind him.

“Checking to see that everything’s okay.” He adjusted Erin’s IV pole a quarter inch to the right.

“She’s pretty, isn’t she?” Dana asked.

He slipped his arm around her shoulders and looked down into eyes that expected confirmation but needed reassurance.

“Just like you, baby girl.”

“What are y’all up to?” LaVerne hissed from the doorway.

Dana waved her grandmother over and allowed herself to be sandwiched as they stood arm in arm voluntarily for the first time in their lives.

Daniel offered a silent plea. Lord, I sure hope You know what You’re doing here.

The three people Erin saw standing beside her bed were linked in a typical Christmas card pose. Artificial and forced. Family in its “natural” state. She sent up a prayer.

Lord, I put this all behind me years ago. What is Your purpose in dragging me back? I lost consciousness in one battle zone and regained it in another. I hope You know what You’re doing here.

“Hey, you’re awake.” Dana was the first to notice.

“And hungry,” Erin replied. She hated dropping such an obvious hint but the flow of conditioned air from the kitchen, positioned next to the solarium, was pulling a mouthwatering aroma right beneath her nose.

“Well, it’s probably not as exotic as what you’re used to, but it’s one of Daniel’s favorite meals. Round steak, corn, mashed potatoes and gravy.” There was pride in LaVerne’s voice. The woman was crazy about her son.

“If by exotic you mean an MRE, I’ll stand in your chow line any day.”

“MRE?”

“Meals Ready to Eat. ‘Yummy’ freeze-dried military rations,” Erin explained to Dana, glad for a safe subject. “Believe it or not, they’re pretty decent but I prefer a camel kabob when I can get one.”

“Eeeeeuuuuuuuuu!” Dana’s face squinted in disgust. “You’ve eaten camel?”

“Does it taste like chicken?” Daniel asked.

“Not even close,” she answered. “It tastes like…camel. Really tough and gamy unless you can get a cut from the hump where the meat is less sinewy.”

“I don’t know about any camel’s hump but I’ve got supper in the kitchen from a cow’s rump, so let’s eat.” LaVerne headed toward the door. “Dana, I need you to set the table pronto, and no back talk.”

Dana noted her father’s better-do-as-she-says shrug and left the room.

“Would you like a tray in here?” he offered. “It might be too much for you to come to the table tonight, but it’s your call.”

Hmm…Stay in here alone while they talk about me or join them in the dining room while they watch my every move. Either way, I’m a big loser who needs somebody to cut my meat.

As tempting as it sounded to hide out on the lovely glass-enclosed porch, it was time to get started. Erin justified her agreement to join them in Houston as part of her rehab strategy. She’d made up her mind to look at every task as therapy. The sooner she could function on her own, the sooner she could get back to active duty. Behind the camera lens where she could record the lives of others. It was so much safer than engaging in the messy stuff herself.

“I’d like to eat with the rest of you, if it’s all right.”

“Yeah, sure. Just let me get the wheelchair ready.” He started to turn away, too much of a gentleman to answer any differently.

“Daniel.” Erin lowered her voice so the others wouldn’t hear. “Thank you for allowing me into your home. I know this is as difficult for you as it is for me, and I promise as soon as I can physically manage on my own, I’ll get out of your life.”

“It’s Dana’s life I’m worried about, not mine and not yours. I agreed to have you here for her benefit. Stay as long as you need to and don’t leave before you’re ready.” He glanced toward the door, took a step closer and lowered his voice, as well. “But when you’re ready, you’re leaving alone. Understand?”

“Perfectly.”

His narrowed eyes said he meant business. And who could blame him.

“Dad, if we have leftovers, will you make potato pancakes for breakfast before church?” Dana pleaded from the other room where she plunked dishes and flatware on a tabletop.

“Church?”

Dana had talked a lot about their church home. They knew everybody and attending a service would put Erin on display. She was going to have to pass on the very first opportunity to work on mobility.

“Of course,” Daniel answered. He leaned close but waited for her nod to signal permission before sliding supportive arms beneath her knees and the small of her back and lifting without effort. As he settled her into the chair and folded a gosh-awful-looking crocheted thing over her lap, his moss-green eyes locked with hers.

“And don’t even think about beggin’ off. This family worships together. And whether either one of us likes it or not, Erin, for a little while anyway you’re part of this family.”

Chapter Three

Sunday morning in Texas was nothing like Erin remembered and everything she’d once imagined it could be.

The chatter that echoed in the kitchen was contentious but good-natured. The dialogue between grandparent and grandchild was one disagreement after another with Daniel acting as mediator. But the dichotomy in the conversation never once escalated into the bitter shouts or harsh threats that accompanied dissent in her family experiences.

As with the meal the night before, breakfast around the pedestal-style oak table was a learning experience for Erin while it seemed like a social event for the others. Conversation stayed clear of the elephant in the room. She blessed Daniel, yet again, for obviously having reminded LaVerne and Dana against pressing for details that weren’t offered voluntarily.

But Dana deserved to know something, didn’t she? Where to start?

“These potato pancakes are a first for me,” Erin mumbled over a mouthful of the tasty breakfast.

Dana’s fork hovered between her plate and her mouth.

“Nobody ever fixed this at your house?”

Erin busied herself managing a fork in her left fist while she considered how much Dana could handle. There was no doubt the girl had been shortchanged without a mother, but on the other hand, Daniel had provided a pretty sweet deal. Their two-story brick home shaded by hundred-year-old pecan trees was in an affluent Houston neighborhood. Since Daniel had brought Dana up in church, it was Erin’s fair guess that he also ensured a quality after-school environment. If nothing else the teenager’s appearance was evidence she was respected and given free choice in personal areas so critical to one her age.

How could Dana possibly relate to growing up in a home where constant danger and uncertainty prevailed? Best to withhold that insight.

“Nope,” Erin answered the question. “I grew up in a cold cereal kind of house.”

Daniel sipped coffee, squinting at her above the rim of his oversized cup. The message of his stare would be more revealing on film, but for now it appeared a cross between censorship and curiosity. It was hard to recall how little she’d told him during their brief marriage, but Erin was certain she hadn’t shared much prior to the string of foster homes.

“If you think this is good, wait till you have Daddy’s pork spareribs. He cooks them all day and uses molasses in the barbecue sauce.”

“Don’t be giving away all my secrets,” Daniel teased, turning his eyes and attention on Dana.

“And there’s nothing like Grandma Verne’s butt cake.” Dana was clearly impressed with whatever deserved that description.

“Excuse me?” Erin asked for details.

“It’s really Boston cream pie,” LaVerne admitted with a proud smile. “But it’s so loaded with calories that it goes straight to your backside. Hence the nickname given by my daughter-in-law who lives on the ranch.”

“Tell me about this ranch.” Erin kept their attention diverted from herself.

“Oh, puuuleeeeease…” Dana groaned.

“There will be plenty of time for that conversation. Right now, we’ve gotta get going or we’ll be late for church. Mama, would you please help Dana with Erin’s needs while I clean up in here?” Daniel instructed. “I’ll have the truck running and the AC on high for you ladies in thirty minutes.”

Daniel glanced frequently into the rearview mirror, keeping an eye on his backseat where Dana gave Erin the lowdown on Abundant Harvest. He lifted up a silent prayer of gratitude for his daughter’s excitement over their church community. The contemporary sanctuary doubled as a gym where it was a safe haven for hundreds of teens who gathered there on weeknights. Dana served with the youth’s music ministry, where she’d become interested in the technical ins and outs of live worship. Of course, it didn’t hurt that the high school praise band was one of the hottest in the state. Whatever the reason, it was comforting to know where his kid and her friends were hanging out on nights when she was free to socialize.

“There’s a special place reserved for visitors.” Dana pointed toward the front of the sanctuary.

“No, thanks.” Erin’s response was resolute.

She’d been cooperative so far, but Daniel wasn’t surprised when Erin declined the front-and-center spot. Clearly, her comfort was in being the observer, not the observed.

As always, the morning’s worship and praise was lively. The pastor’s teaching on guarding your heart was relevant to the point of being worrisome. And the newcomer welcome after the service was warm and inviting. Daniel was grateful for his years of friendship and counseling with Pastor Ken, so there was little need to explain the sudden appearance of Erin Gray in their lives.

“I’ve been praying for your recovery since the day Daniel got word of your injuries.” Ken Allen had pulled a chair up and sat knee to knee with Erin and held her left hand as he spoke. “But I never imagined you’d be here with us today. God is awesome to bless us with a visit by someone with your talent.”

“Thank you.” Erin ducked her head, evidently touched by the pastor’s words.

“I know it’s a bit soon, but would you consider speaking to our graduates before they head off to college? Just let me know when you’re up to it and I’ll arrange everything.”

Erin’s eyes sought Daniel’s. If she expected him to intervene, she was out of luck.

“Oh, I don’t know, Pastor.” She slipped her hand from his and ran unadorned fingertips through her hair. “My skills are all self-taught and I don’t have any speaking experience at all.”

“Even better,” Ken encouraged. “These kids don’t want a presentation. They just need to hear you talk about your relationship with God and your passion for your work.”

“Well, if that’s all you have in mind, I guess I could do it in a few weeks when I’m back on my feet.”

“Perfect.” Ken rubbed his palms together. “We’ll see you again next weekend.” He stood and clasped hands with Daniel. “I’ll be in touch soon, my friend.”

“Pastor?” Erin called as Ken was about to greet another visitor.

“Yes, ma’am?” He turned back to her.

“How is it that you know I have a relationship with God?”

“Are you serious?” The light in Ken’s eyes was like a gift he wanted to share. “Your work speaks volumes about you. Nobody could capture the Creator’s touch like that without knowing Him personally.”

Sunday afternoon was peaceful enough. After a light meal each person moved to a private space. Erin’s quiet quarters were disturbed only by the half hour chimes of a mantle clock. Even so, she knew it was a temporary calm. She was experiencing the eye of hurricane Stabler. By Monday morning the gale force would appear again as life in the household resumed full speed with their patient at the center of the whirlwind.

Having others care for her physical needs was a humbling experience. Erin was certain she didn’t deserve and could never repay Daniel’s kindness. He’d said she was there for Dana’s sake, but Erin had no idea where to start or how to meet the raw need sometimes revealed in Dana’s eyes.

What she could do, however, was recuperate in record time and return to her own lifestyle so Daniel could do the same.

That recuperation started with a private therapist who would visit each morning to focus on strengthening Erin’s back and rehabilitating her right arm. It had been nearly severed three inches above the elbow, but the military physicians in Iraq had more than their fair share of experience with the delicate microsurgery. They’d reattached bone, reconnected nerves and restored blood flow. Erin could twitch her fingers but there was no sensation in them, only numbness. If the feeling never returned, as she’d been warned may happen, how would the loss of sensitivity impact her abilities?

There was only one way to find out and that was to handle her Nikon as soon as she got the green light to exert her arm beyond the blob of putty she was supposed to squeeze constantly.

The cell phone trilled on the bed beside her.

“What’s up, boss?” J.D. was the likely caller.

“Wow! Not only a cheerful but a quick answer.” He poked fun at her reputation for being on the go with no time to talk.

“And why does that surprise you?”

“Because the number of times I haven’t had to leave a voice mail and wait seventy-two hours for you to return my call can be counted on three fingers.”

“I have a few more hours on my hands these days since I’m not exactly tied up.” She glanced at the IV tube that had her tethered to an aluminum pole. “Strike that. I’m definitely tied up, just not with assignments. But I was thinking about that just a few minutes ago and—”

“Erin,” J.D. interrupted, his voice losing its humorous note. “Give it a rest, will ya? There will be plenty of war, pestilence and famine when you’ve recovered enough to come back. Meanwhile, try to appreciate having this downtime. Read good books, watch chick flicks. Just appreciate the fact that you’re alive.”

“I know, I know. And I’m grateful that I’m just in a bed and not a pine box. But my work is my reason to get up in the morning, J.D.”

“Well, maybe it’s time you found a new purpose. Kid, I love the bureau, but Mary Ellen and our boys are what I live for. You’re a young woman with plenty of reasons to get out from behind the camera and focus on real life, no pun intended. You need to get to know that beautiful daughter while she still has time for you. Trust me, in a few more years, you’ll have to make an appointment to see her.”

“Thanks for the advice, Grandpa Walton. Can I ask a favor?”

“Anything.”

“Will you ship me some equipment?”

“I’ll put that on my To Do list. But the reason I called is to let you know I’m heading for the West Coast tomorrow morning. I scheduled a stopover in Houston just long enough to drop a few things off.”

Erin felt a shiver in the sunny room. J.D. was going to fly several hours, rent a car and navigate the crazy Houston interstates for a brief visit. There had to be more to it then he was willing to say on the phone. This must be something he has to do in person.

“I hate to see you go to so much trouble,” she tried to dissuade him.

“The itinerary is all set, so don’t try to talk me out of it. I have the address and I’ll be there by three o’clock.”

Yep, the man’s on a mission. She prayed it was from God and not Corporate.

Daniel relaxed in his home office on the back side of the second floor, directly above the sun porch. He’d installed an upstairs ringer for the doorbell so he wouldn’t miss package deliveries. When the front bell chimed, he glanced up from his discipleship study to the time flashing in the corner of his computer monitor. It was Sunday afternoon and he wasn’t expecting anyone.

Must be for Dana.

The bell rang a second time.

“I’ve got it,” he called. Three steps from the bottom of the staircase he saw the visitor through the arched window in the door. Candace Dickerson. The curvy blonde was beyond neighborly, she was downright available.

But in a nice Southern girl way.

Candace was unmarried, educated, produced cooking shows for the local cable station and attended Abundant Harvest. She was everything a red-blooded man in his late thirties would be looking for in a woman and mother for his child. But Daniel wasn’t looking. He was content to raise Dana by himself, never dating or accepting invitations to singles’ social events. His unattached status suited his daughter just fine and he preferred to keep it that way.

But nothing stopped Candace from trying.

“Hey, Daniel!” She gave his waist a squeeze with one arm and kissed the air near his face as only a proper Texas gal can. “Your sweet mama said you’d be bringin’ company home and I thought I’d drop off a fresh batch of my homemade pecan pralines.”

“Did I hear ‘pralines’?” Dana called as she hurried down the stairs. The two women hugged and his daughter helped herself to the tin of gooey confections.

“Interesting you heard the mention of candy but you didn’t hear the doorbell.” Daniel was actually grateful for Dana’s arrival. His daughter’s presence would keep everything family-friendly.

“Come on out to the porch and meet Erin.” Dana led the way.

“Why sure,” Candace agreed, looking to Daniel who offered no explanation. She fell into step behind Dana.

Trepidation gripped Daniel anew each time he remembered Erin was in his home, in their lives. She’d gotten comfortable in the rattan chaise near the windows. Her hair was backlit by the setting summer sun casting a rosy halo around her tanned face. She wore some of the loose-fitting gray scrubs Walter Reed tailored to accommodate the physical limitations of their soldiers. They were functional but ugly.

LaVerne relaxed on the matching love seat and something the two just shared had them smiling. Since his mama was prone to telling stories from his days as a boy on the ranch, Daniel had good reason to suspect their amusement was at his expense.

His neighbor passed through the French doors to the sun porch as Dana made the introductions. “Grandma Verne, you already know Candace, right?”

“Yes, hello again,” LaVerne greeted the newcomer.

“Nice to see you, Mrs. Stabler.” Candace addressed his mama but her eyes immediately settled on the stranger in the room.

Dana offered her grandmother the open tin, then perched on the edge of the chaise. “And Candace, this is my mother, Erin Gray. You’ve probably heard of her, because she’s a famous photographer.”

Erin lowered her chin and closed her eyes for a brief moment. Then she turned a smile of embarrassment toward Candace. “It’s nice to meet you, and please excuse Dana’s exaggeration. She will be less inclined to brag on me once she figures out most people have no idea who I am.”

“They may not know you by name, but you’re fooling yourself if you think people don’t recognize your work,” Daniel insisted.

He reached toward a stack of National Geographic magazines, took one from the top and flipped it to a dog-eared page.

“I read where they receive over a million submissions every year. This one made the editor’s top pick and then went on to be selected for a global refugee campaign.” He was proud of Erin’s accomplishments but couldn’t help wondering if her accolades could ever make up for their losses. The personal cost of her success had been high for all of them, especially Dana. Daniel’s years of praying for the grace to forgive Erin had never been fully fruitful. Constant reminders of their splintered family made it impossible not to know moments of anger, days of regret.

He pushed aside his selfish thoughts and handed the magazine to Candace. Her gaze softened as it brushed the face of an orphan in Darfur. The toddler stood amid the horrifying evidence of genocide.

“Of course I’ve seen this. How could anyone forget those eyes and that tiny child clinging to her family?” Candace placed the pages in Dana’s waiting hand, and then it was her turn to duck her head. “That sure shines a light on the triviality of my cookin’ shows.”

“Please don’t take it that way,” Erin insisted. “Your reaction is exactly why I don’t like a personal fuss over what I do. People start making comparisons and end up feeling bad instead of being moved to act, which is the point of my work. That picture is just one example of the tragedies I’ve witnessed in this world. Most folks can never understand loss and abandonment unless they’re confronted with it face-to-face.”

Dana stood, tossed the magazine to the bed and moved toward the door. “You’d be surprised how much some of us can get our heads around loss and abandonment.”

Chapter Four

Dana stomped from the room as Erin’s stomach plunged like a runaway roller coaster topping the first hill.

What a tragic choice of words!

From the looks on the faces of Daniel, LaVerne and Candace, they not only read Erin’s thoughts, they echoed them.

“Let me see you to the door.” LaVerne pushed herself up from the love seat and guided the visitor from the solarium. The pretty blonde knitted together beauty queen brows to show Daniel her concern and then turned her attention to the real power behind the man. His mama.

Daniel closed the French doors after the two women so he could speak privately. While he settled in a nearby armchair, Erin braced herself for the lecture that was sure to come. He arched his back, rubbed both hands through his short-cropped hair, and then leaned toward her with his elbows resting on the knees of his dark-wash jeans.

“Erin, I don’t know where to start.” His voice was heavy with exasperation.

She held out her left palm and lowered her eyes in defeat. “Daniel, I’ll understand if you want to start by packing me off to a local rehab center. Or maybe it would be easier on you if I leave with J.D. when he shows up tomorrow. He can arrange to get me back to New York.”

Daniel thrust his chin forward and squinted, angled one ear toward her like he hadn’t heard clearly. “You just got here. Why would you want to leave already? And what’s this about J.D. coming to Houston?”

“You heard what a stupid thing I just said in front of Dana and you saw how she reacted. It’s bad enough that I’m disrupting your lives and keeping your mother away from her ranch. Upsetting Dana like that was never my intention and I don’t want everybody walking on egg shells thinking I’ll choke on my foot again at any moment.”

Daniel slumped back into the chair. He looked more relaxed now.

“Erin, listen to me.” A note of understanding mingled with the frustration in his voice. “Dana’s a sixteen-year-old girl. She looks for reasons to be upset. That’s what girls her age do for entertainment. So, don’t be too tough on yourself.”

“You mean you’re not angry with me?”

His forehead wrinkled as if he were pondering the simple question.

“I’m tryin’ real hard to keep angry from being the right word. Look, I’m a daddy raising a daughter on my own with no help and no game plan other than God’s. That’s not a complaint, just a statement of fact,” he insisted. “Occasionally, I hit a home run but lots of days with that kid are strikeouts. You’re gonna have to figure her out for yourself but I’ll advise where I can.”

“I’m listening,” Erin encouraged him to continue.

“For starters, you need to choose your words more carefully when Dana’s around. Mostly ’cause she’s got a memory like a bear trap and she’ll snare you with your own comments when you least expect it. What you just said was insensitive, that’s for sure. But it doesn’t justify puttin’ you out on the street, if that’s what you expected. Not tonight, anyway.”

The last words were tacked on with humor but there was warning in them just the same.

“Got it.” Erin made a mental note. “What else?”

“Oh, there’s plenty more but we’ll take it as it comes. Mostly be prepared that even though she’s agreed not to press you, she has about as much self-restraint as a wolf in a butcher shop. She won’t lay back and wait on your lead for long.”

“I know.” Erin fixed her eyes on the putty in her hand, grateful for the valuable guidance he was giving. “Thank you, Daniel.”

“You don’t have to keep sayin’ that. I know you’re out of your element, and for Dana’s sake I’ll support you whenever I can ’cause it’s the right thing to do.”

Relief wrapped Erin like the warm blanket LaVerne put over the bed each time she turned down the thermostat. The certainty of Daniel’s help was unexpected and comforting, but Erin felt sure his good graces had limits, as well.

“So, what do I do now? I don’t have any experience making amends with a teenager.”

“Trust me, you’re gonna get plenty of practice. I’ll go talk to her and I wager you dollars to doughnuts she makes some excuse to come back down. You pray about it in the meanwhile and you’ll know what to say when the time comes.”

She nodded. The man was kind, supportive and as handsome as any country western star. It was no wonder the pretty neighbor lady was hot on the heels of his fancy boots.

“All right, then.” Daniel slapped his palms on the tops of his thighs and leaned forward as if preparing to stand.

“If I could just say one more thing.” Erin interrupted his effort to leave. “I owe you for so many reasons, not the least of which is raising Dana in a Christian home. That means a lot.”

“I always hoped you’d feel that way. There were times during our few months together when you gave me the impression you had a foundation of faith.”

“I did, but it wasn’t by design. It was because the foster parents dumped us kids off for vacation Bible school at every church in the area. I’m sure we went to five or six programs each summer. Every home I lived in did the same thing so it seemed like common practice. You didn’t have to be very old to figure out it had nothing to do with providing a Christian environment. They were just unloading us for the day.”

“Did knowing that bother you?”

“Not after a while. The church volunteers showed us kindness we wouldn’t have gotten any other way. And the food was a nice change.” She smiled at one of her few pleasant memories of those days. Hot dogs and s’mores always made her think of Jesus. “The summer I was fourteen, I got baptized in a little limestone sanctuary near San Marcos. They gave me a certificate with the date on it but I lost what few keepsakes I had in all the moves. I forgot the name of the church, but I always wondered if it was still there.”

“It’s pretty easy for me to find out if you really want to know. There’s not much I can’t dig into.”

She felt a razor-sharp point of pain low in her back and winced away from the sensation. Daniel noticed and without a word he was on his feet, moving her efficiently from the chaise to the bed, casually tucking a pillow beneath her knees. He lowered the headboard to shift her weight then pulled the bedclothes over her hospital garb. Lastly, he injected the evening dose of meds into her IV port.

Erin couldn’t help but mull over all Daniel had sacrificed and continued to do for her. She knew it was because of what she meant to him as Dana’s mother and had nothing whatever to do with who she was as a woman.

And just as well, since it would complicate a situation that was already a big honkin’ psychological mess.

Daniel was relieved to see Erin once again comfortable now that he’d settled her on the hospital bed and positioned things as he’d been taught. Following instructions was second nature on the ranch, but his years as a city detective had put him on the giving end of orders. It was good to realize he was not such an old law enforcement dog that he couldn’t pick up tricks of a new trade if the situation required it.