Soldier’s Secret Child
Caridad Pineiro

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Copyright

Caridad Piñeiro is a USA TODAY and New York Times bestselling author of twenty novels. In 2007, a year marked by six releases, Caridad was selected as the 2007 Golden Apple Author of the Year by the New York City Romance Writers. Caridad’s novels have been lauded as the Best Short Contemporary Romance of 2001 in the NJ Romance Writers Golden Leaf Contest, Top Fantasy Books of 2005 and 2006 by CATALINA magazine and Top Nocturne of 2006 by Cataromance. Caridad has appeared on various television shows, such as the FOX News Early Edition in New York, and articles featuring her novels have been published in several leading newspapers and magazines, such as the New York Daily News, Latina and the Star Ledger. For more information on Caridad, please visit www.caridad.com or www.thecallingvampirenovels.com.

This book is dedicated to the men and women of the military and their families, without whom we could not have the liberties that make our daily lives possible.

Chapter 1

Macy Ward had never imagined that on her wedding day she would be running out of the church instead of walking down the aisle.

But just over a week earlier, she had been drawn out of the church by the sharp crack of gunshots and the harsh squeal of tires followed by the familiar sound of her fiancé’s voice shouting for someone to get his police cruiser.

Her fiancé, Jericho Yates, the town sheriff and her lifelong friend. Her best friend in all the world and the totally wrong man to marry, she thought again, her hands tightening on the steering wheel. She shot a glance at her teenage son who sat beside her in the passenger seat.

“You ready for this, T.J.?”

He pulled out one earbud of his iPod. Tinny, too loud music blared from it. “Did you want something?” T.J. asked.

It was impossible to miss the sullen tones of his voice or the angry set of his jaw.

She had seen a similar irritated expression on the face of T.J.’s biological father, Fisher Yates, as he stood in his Army dress uniform outside the church with his brother—her fiancé. Fisher had looked far more attractive than he should have. As she had raced out into the midst of the bedlam occurring on the steps of the chapel, her gaze had connected with Fisher’s stony glare for just a few seconds.

A few seconds too long.

When she had urged Jericho to go handle the incident and that they could postpone the wedding, she had seen the change in Fisher’s gaze.

She wasn’t sure if it had been relief at first. But the emotion that followed and lingered far longer had been more dangerous.

Now, there was no relief in T.J.’s hard glare. Just anger.

“Are you ready for this?” she repeated calmly, shooting him a glance from the corner of her eye as she drove to the center of town.

The loose black T-shirt T.J. wore barely shifted with his indifferent shrug. “Do I have any choice?”

Choice? Did anyone really have many choices in life? she thought, recalling how she would have chosen not to get pregnant by Fisher. Or lose her husband, Tim, to cancer. Or have a loving and respectful son turn into a troublesome seventeen-year-old hellion.

“You most certainly have choices, T.J. You could have failed your math class or gone to those tutoring sessions. You could have done time in juvie instead of community service. And now—”

“I’ll have to stay out of trouble by working at the ranch since you decided not to marry Jericho.”

It had been Jericho who had persuaded a judge to spare T.J. a juvenile record. The incident in question had resulted in rolls and rolls of toilet paper all over an old teacher’s prized landscaped lawn and a mangled mailbox that had needed to be replaced.

“After postponing the wedding, I realized that I was getting married for all the wrong reasons. So, I chose not to go ahead with the wedding and I’m glad that I did. It gave Jericho the chance to find someone he truly loves,” she said, clasping and unclasping her hands on the wheel as she pulled into a spot in front of the post office.

“I told you before that I don’t need another dad,” he said, but his words were followed by another shrug as T.J.’s head dropped down. “Not that Jericho isn’t a nice guy. He’s just not my dad.”

Macy killed the engine, cradled her son’s chin and applied gentle pressure to urge his head upward. “I know you miss him. I do, too. It’s been six long years without him, but he wouldn’t want you to still be unhappy.”

“And you think working at the ranch with some gnarly surfer dude from California will make me happy?” He jerked away from her touch and wagged one hand in the familiar hang loose surfer sign.

She dropped her hands into her lap and shook her head, biting back tears and her own anger. As a recreational therapist, she understood the kinds of emotions T.J. was venting with his aggressive behavior. Knew how to try to get him to open up about his feelings.

But as a mother, the attitude was frustrating.

“Jewel tells me Joe is a great kid and he’s your age. Maybe you’ll find that you have something in common.”

Without waiting for his reply, she grabbed her purse and rushed out of the car, crossed the street and made a beeline for the door to Miss Sue’s. She had promised her boss, Jewel Mayfair, that she would stop by the restaurant to pick up some of its famous sticky buns for the kids currently residing at the Hopechest Ranch.

When she reached the door, however, she realized he was there.

Fisher Yates.

Decorated soldier, Jericho’s older brother and unknown to him or anyone else in town, T.J.’s biological father. Only her husband, Tim, had known, and he had kept the secret to his grave.

The morning that had started out so-so due to T.J.’s moodiness just went to bad. She would have no choice but to acknowledge Fisher on her way to the take-out counter in the back of the restaurant. Especially since he looked up and noticed her standing there. His green-eyed gaze narrowed as he did so and his full lips tightened into a grim line.

He really should loosen up and smile some more, she thought, recalling the Fisher of her youth who had always had a grin ready for her, Tim and Jericho.

Although she couldn’t blame him for his seeming reticence around her. She had done her best to avoid him during the entire time leading up to the wedding. Had somehow handled being around him during all the last-minute preparations, being polite but indifferent whenever he was around. It was the only way to protect herself against the emotions which lingered about Fisher.

In the week or so since she and Jericho had parted ways, it had been easier since she hadn’t seen Fisher around town and knew it was just a matter of time before he was back on duty and her secret would be safe again.

She ignored the niggle of guilt that Fisher didn’t know about T.J. Or that as a soldier, he risked his life with each mission and might not ever know that he had a son. Over the years she had told herself it had been the right decision to make not just for herself, but for Fisher as well. Jericho had told her more than once over the years how happy his older brother was in the Army. How it had been the perfect choice for him.

As much as the guilt weighed heavily on her at times, she could not risk any more problems with her son by revealing such a truth now. T.J. had experienced enough upset lately and he was the single most important thing in her life. She would do anything to protect him. To see him smile once again.

Which included staying away from Fisher Yates no matter how much she wanted to make things right between them.

Fisher was just finishing up a plate of Miss Sue’s famous buckwheat pancakes when he looked up and glimpsed Macy Ward at the door to the café.

She seemed to hesitate for a moment when she spied him and he wondered why.

Did she feel guilty about avoiding him the whole time he’d been home or was her contriteness all about her change of mind at the altar where she had left his brother? Not that it had been the wrong thing to do. From the moment his kid brother Jericho had told him about his decision to marry Macy, Fisher had believed it was a mistake.

Not that he was any kind of expert on marriage, having avoided it throughout his thirty-seven years of life, but it struck him as wrong to be in a loveless marriage. Jericho should have known that given the experience of his own parents.

Their alcoholic mother had walked out on the Yates men when he was nine and old enough to realize that if there had been any love between his mother and father, drink had driven it away a long time before.

Macy finally pushed through the door and as she passed him, she dipped her head in greeting and said, “Mornin’.”

“Mornin’,” he replied, and glanced surreptitiously at her as she passed.

At thirty-five years of age, Macy Ward was a fine-looking woman. Trim but with curves in all the right places.

Fisher remembered those curves well. Remembered the strength and tenderness in her toned arms and legs as she had held him. Remembered the passion of their one night which was just another reason why he had known it was wrong for his brother and Macy to marry.

He couldn’t imagine being married to a woman like Macy and having the relationship be platonic. Hell, if it were him, he’d have her in bed at every conceivable moment.

Well, at every moment that he could given the presence of her seventeen-year-old son T.J.

Which made him wonder where the boy was until he peered through the windows of Miss Sue’s and spotted him sitting in Macy’s car. His mop of nearly-black hair, much darker than Macy’s light brown, hung down in front of his face, obscuring anything above his tight-lipped mouth.

Fisher wondered if T.J. was angry about the aborted wedding. To hear Jericho talk, the teenager had been none too happy with the announcement, but to hear his father talk, there wasn’t much that T.J. had been happy with since T.J.’s father’s death from cancer six years earlier.

Not that he blamed the boy. It had taken him a long time to get over his own mother’s abandonment. Some might say he never had given his wandering life as a soldier and his inability to commit to any woman.

From behind him he heard the soft scuff of boots across the gleaming tile floor and almost instinctively knew it was Macy on her way back. Funny in how only just a couple of weeks he could identify her step and the smell of her.

She always smelled like roses.

But then again, observing such things was a necessary part of his military training. An essential skill for keeping his men alive.

His men, he thought and picked up the mug of steaming coffee, sweet with fresh cream from one of the small local ranches. In a couple of weeks, he would either be heading back for another tour of duty in the Middle East or accepting an assignment back in the States as an instructor at West Point.

Although he understood the prestige of being assigned to the military academy, he wasn’t sure he was up for settling down in one place.

Since the day eighteen years ago when Macy had walked down the aisle with Tim, he had become a traveling man and he liked it that way. No ties or connections other than to his dad, younger brother and his men. People he could count on, he thought as the door closed on Macy’s firm butt encased in soft faded denim.

A butt his hands itched to touch along with assorted other parts of her.

With a mumbled curse, he took a sip of the coffee, wincing at its heat. Reminded himself that he was only in town for a short period of time.

Too little time to waste wondering over someone who probably hadn’t given him a second thought in nearly twenty years.

Chapter 2

What made the drive to the Hopechest Ranch better wasn’t just that it was shorter, Macy thought.

She loved the look of the open countryside and how it grew even more empty the farther they got away from Esperanza. The exact opposite of how it had been in the many years that she had made the drive to the San Antonio hospital where she had once worked.

Out here in the rugged Texas countryside, she experienced a sense of balance and homecoming. When Jewel Mayfair and the California side of the Colton family had bought the acres adjacent to the Bar None in order to open the Hopechest Ranch, Macy had decided she had wanted to work there. Luckily, she and Jewel had hit it off during her interview.

It wasn’t just that they had similar ideas about dealing with the children at the ranch or that tragedy had touched both their lives. They were both no-nonsense rational women with a strong sense of family, honor and responsibility.

They had bonded immediately and their friendship had grown over the months of working together, so much so that she had asked Jewel to be her maid of honor.

Because she was a friend and understood her all too well, Jewel hadn’t pressed her since the day she had canceled the wedding, aware of Macy’s concerns about marrying Jericho and her turmoil over the actions of her son.

Macy was grateful for that as well as Jewel’s offer to hire T.J. to work during the summer months at the ranch.

At seventeen, he was too old for after school programs, not to mention that for the many years she had worked in San Antonio, she had felt guilty about having him in such programs. Before Tim’s death, T.J. used to go home and spend time with his father, who had been a teacher at one of the local schools.

She pulled up in front of the Spanish-style ranch house, which was the main building at the Hopechest Ranch. The Coltons had spared no expense in building the sprawling ranch house that rose up out of the flat Texas plains. Attention to detail was evident in every element of the house from the carefully maintained landscaping to the ornate hand-carved wooden double doors at the entrance.

Macy was well aware, however, that the Hopechest Ranch wasn’t special because of the money the Coltons lavished on the house and grounds. It was the love the Coltons put into what they did with the kids within. She mumbled a small prayer that the summer spent here might help her work a change in T.J.’s attitude.

She parked off to one side of the driveway, shut off the engine and they both stepped out of the car.

One of the dark wooden doors opened immediately.

Ana Morales stepped outside beneath the covered portico by the doors, her rounded belly seeming even larger today than it had the day before. The beautiful young Mexican woman laid a hand on one of the columns of the portico as she waited for them.

Ana had taken refuge at the Hopechest Ranch like many of the others within, although the main thrust of the program at the ranch involved working with troubled children. Despite that, the young woman had been a welcome addition, possessing infinite patience with the younger children.

Sticky bun box in hand, Macy smiled and embraced Ana when she reached the door. “How are you today, amiga?”

“Just fine, Macy,” Ana said, her expressive brown eyes welcoming. She shot a look over Macy’s shoulder at T.J. “This is your son, no?”

She gestured to him. “T.J., meet Ms. Morales.”

“Ana, por favor,” she quickly corrected. “He’s very handsome and strong.”

“Miss Ana,” T.J. said, removing his hat and ducking his head down in embarrassment.

As they stepped within the foyer of the ranch, the noises of activity filtered in from the great rooms near the back of the ranch house and drew them to the large family room/-kitchen area. In the bright open space, half a dozen children of various ages and ethnicities moved back and forth between the kitchen, where Jewel and one of the Hopechest Ranch’s housekeepers were busy serving up family-style platters of breakfast offerings.

Ana immediately went to their assistance as did Macy, walking to the counter and grabbing a large plate for the sticky buns. Motioning with her head, she said, “Go grab yourself a spot at the table, T.J.”

As the children noted that the food was being put out, they shifted to the large table between the family room and kitchen and soon only a few spots were free at the table.

T.J. hovered nervously beyond, uncertain.

Macy was about to urge her son to sit again when a handsome young man entered the room—Joe, she assumed. He had just arrived at the ranch and she hadn’t had a chance to meet him yet.

Almost as tall as T.J., he had the same lanky build, but his hair was a shade darker. His hair was stylishly cut short around his ears, but longer up top framing bright blue eyes that inquisitively shifted over the many occupants of the room.

He walked over to stand beside T.J. and nodded his head, earning a return bop of his head from T.J.

“I’m Joe,” he said and held out his hand.

“Just call me T.J.,” her son answered and shook the other teen’s hand.

“Looks good,” Joe said and gestured to the food on the table. “Dude, I’m hungry. How about you?”

The loud growl from T.J.’s stomach was all the answer needed and Joe nudged him with his shoulder. “Come on, T.J. If you wait too long, the rugrats will get all the good stuff.”

A small smile actually cracked T.J.’s lips before he followed Joe to the table. He hesitated again for a moment as Joe sat, leaving just one empty chair beside a dark-haired teen girl.

The teen, Sara Engelheit, a pretty sixteen-year-old who had come to the ranch recently, looked up shyly at T.J., who mumbled something beneath his breath, but then took the seat.

Macy released the breath she had been holding all that time and as her gaze connected with Jewel’s she noted the calm look on her boss’s face. With a quick incline of her head, it was as if Jewel was saying, “I told you not to worry.”

Jewel walked to the kids’ table, excused herself and snagged one of the sticky buns, earning a raucous round of warnings from the children about eating something healthy.

Grinning, Jewel said, “I promise I’ll go get some fresh juice and fruit.”

Heeding the admonishments of the children, she, Ana and the housekeeper helped themselves to the eggs, oatmeal and other more nutritious offerings and then joined Jewel at a small café bar at one side of the great space, a routine they did every day.

Some of the children had rebelled at the routine at first, but they soon fell into the security of the routine. Happiness filled her as she noticed the easy camaraderie of the children around the table.

While they ate, the women discussed the day’s schedule, reviewing what each of them would do as they split the children into age- and need-defined groups before reuniting them all during the day for meals.

When they were done, they turned their attention to their charges. Ana took the younger children to play at the swing set beyond the pool so they could avoid the later heat of the Texas summer day. Macy took the tweens and teens out to the corrals that housed an assortment of small livestock and some chickens. They loved the animals and learning to care for them helped her reinforce patterns of responsibility and teamwork.

As the groups were established, Jewel faced T.J. and Joe who were the eldest of the children present. “I’m going to ask the two of you to go with me today. You’re both new to the ranch and I’d like to show you around. Give you an idea of the chores I expect you to do.”

The boys stood side by side, nodded almost in unison, but as Jewel turned away for a moment, Macy noted the look that passed between them as if to say, “What have we gotten ourselves into?”

In that moment, she knew a bond had been established and only hoped that it would be one for the better given Jewel’s accolades about Joe.

“Hurry up, Mom. I promised Joe I’d get there early so I can show him those XBOX cheat codes before breakfast,” T.J. said and raced out of their house. The door slammed noisily behind him and normally she would have cautioned him about being more careful, but she didn’t have the heart to do it. He seemed so eager to get to the ranch.

Rushing, she hopped on one booted foot, trying to step into the other boot while slipping on her jacket at the same time. Nearly pitching backward onto her ass, she grappled for the deacon’s bench by the front door and chuckled at her own foolishness.

She was just so excited to finally see her son starting to lose some of his surliness. He actually looked forward to something.

She finished dressing with less haste and minutes later, they were on their way to the ranch, T.J. sitting beside her with his iPod running. Unlike his slouched stance of a week ago, he almost leaned forward, as if to urge them to move more quickly toward the ranch.

The countryside flashed beside them as they left the edge of town, the wide open meadows filled with the whites of wild plums, the maroon and yellow of Mexican hat and mountain pink wildflowers. Ahead of them a cloudless sky the color of Texas bluebonnets seemed to go on forever.

In less than ten minutes they were at Hopechest and she had barely stopped the car when T.J. went flying up the driveway and into the house. She proceeded more slowly, stopping to inhale the fresh scent of fresh cut summer grass and the flowers from a nearby meadow.

It was going to be a good day, she thought.

Inside the house, T.J., Joe and Sara were gathered around the XBOX in the family room, where as promised, T.J. was teaching them the cheat codes.

As the women did every day, they set up breakfast, ate and after they finished, Jewel announced to the kids that they had a special treat for them that day—Clay Colton was bringing over a mare to keep at the ranch for them to ride and care for.

T.J. and Joe had been at work all week in anticipation of the mare’s arrival. They had cleaned up some of the stalls in one of the smaller barns on the property, placing fresh-smelling hay in one stall and setting up the other one to hold tack, feed and other necessities.

As the ragtag group walked to a corral on the property, the younger children were in front of the pack, followed by T.J., Joe and Sara.

Macy, Jewel and Ana took up spots at the side of the group, keeping an eye on the youngest as they approached the corral. Clay Colton waited astride his large roan stallion Crockett. A smaller palomino mare stood beside him and his horse.

Clay was all cowboy, she thought, admiring his easy seat on the saddle and the facility with which he swung off the immense mount. He ground tethered Crockett and then walked the mare over toward them.

“Mornin’,” he said and tipped his white Stetson. Longish black hair peeked from beneath the hat and his eyes were a vivid blue against the deep tan of his skin.

“Mornin’, Clay. We can’t thank you enough for bringing the mare for the children,” Jewel said.

“My pleasure. How about I show Joe and T.J. how to handle her for the younger kids?”

“That would be great, Clay. It’ll be a big relief for both Jewel and me if the boys can control her. What’s her name?” Macy asked.

Clay pushed his hat back a bit, exposing more of his face as he waved the two boys over. “Gentlemen, come on over and meet Papa’s Poppy.”

T.J. and Joe scrambled up and over the split rail corral fence, stood by Clay as he took the saddle, blanket, bit and reins off the mare. The horse stood by calmly as he did so and then later as Clay showed the boys how to place all the equipment back on.

T.J. already had a fairly good knowledge of what to do since he and his dad used to ride together. He seemed hesitant at first, but then Clay said, “That’s the way, T.J. Good job.”

His uncertainty seemed to fade then and before long, he and Joe had ridden the mare around the corral a time or two. The younger children were calling out eagerly to have a turn as well.

Joe slipped off the horse and handed the reins to T.J.

“Me? What am I supposed to do now?”

Clay clapped him on the back. “Keep her under control while Joe gets one of your friends up on her. She’s gentle. You can handle it.”

T.J. took a big gulp, but did as Clay asked and before long, the two boys were giving the remaining children their turns on the mare, Clay hovering nearby protectively until it was clear that T.J. and Joe were in charge of the situation.

He stepped over to where she stood with Jewel and Ana and said, “This will work out well for you, I think. Papa’s Poppy is the gentlest mare I have.”

“I insist on paying for her, Clay,” Jewel said, facing him.

Clay shrugged and the fabric of his western shirt stretched tight against shoulders made broad by years of ranch work. “She was an injured stray I found a year or so ago. All scratched up from a fight with some prickly poppy she got tangled up in.”

“Hence the name,” she said.

“Yep and to be honest, you’d be helping me out by taking her. I need room for a new stud I want to buy for the Bar None.”

“Are there many strays in the area, Clay?” Jewel asked as she leaned on the top rail of the fence, vigilantly keeping an eye on the children.

“Occasionally. Why do you ask?” he said and pulled off his hat, wiped at a line of sweat with a bandanna.

Jewel dragged a hand through the short strands of her light brown hair, suddenly uneasy. “I’ve heard noises in the night.”

“Me, too,” Ana chimed in. “It sounds like a baby crying or maybe a small animal in pain.”

“Yes, exactly,” Jewel confirmed. “Not all the time, just every now and then.”

Clay jammed his white Stetson back on his head and glanced in the direction of the two boys, squinting against the sun as he did so. “I haven’t heard anything up my way, but I can swing by one night and check it out for you.”

He motioned with a work-roughened hand to the two boys. “They’ll make fine ranch hands. Remind me of Ryder and myself when we were kids. We loved being around the horses more than anything.”

Macy couldn’t miss the wistfulness in his voice as Clay spoke of his younger brother. Much like T.J., Ryder had begun getting into trouble as a teen, but then it had gotten progressively worse until Ryder had ended up in jail for smuggling aliens across the border.

“Have you heard from your brother lately?” she asked, wondering if Clay had relented from his stance to disavow his troubled brother.

“I wrote to him, but the mail came back as undeliverable.” A hard set entered his jaw and his bright blue eyes lost the happy gleam from watching the children.

“Maybe your brother was moved?” Ana offered, laying a gentle hand on Clay’s arm.

He nodded and smiled stiffly. “Maybe, Miss Ana. I just hope it’s not too late to make amends with my little brother. I’m going to try to call someone at the prison to see what’s happening with him.”

“I think you’re right to put the past behind you and try to make things right with Ryder,” Jewel added, but then stepped away to help the boys with one of the younger children who seemed to be afraid of the mare.

Ana went over as well to help since the child was Mexican and still learning English, leaving Macy alone with Clay.

“You’ll work things out with your brother,” she said, trying to offer comfort. Clay was a good man and she hated to see him upset.

“I hope so. It’s never too late to make amends with the people from our past, Macy. You should understand that more than some,” he said, surprising her.

She examined his face, searching for the meaning behind his words. Wondering if he somehow knew about her and Fisher. About T.J.

“I do understand,” she said, waiting for him to say more so that she could confirm the worst of her fears, but he didn’t. Instead, he shouted out his farewell to everyone, walked over to his stallion and climbed up into his saddle.

“Take good care of her, men. I’ll be back later to show you how to groom her, handle the feeding and keep the stall clean,” he added with a wave to the boys before leaving.

Both T.J. and Joe straightened higher at his comment. She hadn’t been wrong in wanting to marry Jericho to give her son a man’s presence in his life. It was obvious from just this slight interaction that both boys had responded positively to the added responsibility and to being treated as adults.

Small steps. Positive ones.

She should be grateful for that, but Clay’s words rang in her head as she stepped over to help Jewel and Ana with the rest of the children.

It’s never too late to make amends with the people from our past.

As much as she hoped that he was right, she also prayed that she would not have to make amends before T.J. was ready to handle it.

Chapter 3

The mare had been a wonderful addition to their program at the ranch, Macy thought as she watched the teens working together in the stalls and adjacent corral.

She and Jewel had discussed how to incorporate the responsibilities for the mare into a program for the children. They had broken them up into rotating teams that took turns with the mare’s care and feeding. In addition, she worked with the tweens and teens, including T.J. and Joe, to improve how they handled the mare. Setting up a series of small tests, she encouraged each of the teens until they were all able to take turns not only outfitting and riding the mare, but watching and helping the younger children with the horse.

When T.J. and Joe weren’t with the groups, they were off finishing up some of the other chores around the ranch, including a ride with Clay Colton to attempt to track down the elusive sounds that Jewel was still hearing at night. But they returned from that expedition with little to show for it.

She was grateful that T.J. and Joe seemed to have bonded so quickly and so well. As the eldest amongst the children at the ranch, the others seemed to look up to them, in particular the tweens and Sara, the petite young teen who had recently joined them.

It wasn’t unusual to see the three of them together at meals and as they took an afternoon break at the pool during the heat of the day, much as they were doing today.

As she watched them frolicking in the cool waters, Jewel stepped up beside her.

“Things seem to be better,” her friend said.

“I had hopes for it, but this is more than I expected so quickly.”

“Let’s take a break.” Jewel gestured to a small table located on the covered courtyard where someone had placed a pitcher with iced tea and glasses. A few feet away from the table in the middle of the courtyard was a fountain. The sounds of the running water combined with the scents from the riot of flowers surrounding the courtyard were always calming.

With a quick nod, she sat at the table and poured tea into the two glasses, all the time keeping an eye on what was going on in the pool.

T.J. and Joe led the younger children in a game of Marco Polo, while Sara sat by the side, arms wrapped around herself in a slightly defensive stance.

“We’ve still got to get Sara to open up a bit,” she said.

Jewel picked up her glass and took a sip. “She’s been better since the boys got here, but she hasn’t been willing to say much during our one-on-one sessions.”

“Nothing about the bruises or why she ran away?” she asked, thinking of the purpling marks and fingerprints that had been on the girl’s arms on the day she had arrived at the ranch a few weeks ago.

“Nothing and you know our rule.”

“We wait until our charge is ready to talk. Do you have another session scheduled with her anytime soon?” She sipped her tea, sighed as the cool liquid slid down her heat parched throat. She hadn’t realized just how hot and dry it had been as she and the teens had worked with the mare all morning.

“I have a group session with the older children this afternoon. I was thinking to ask T.J. and Joe to join us.”

She thought of T.J.’s anger at his dad’s passing and of Joe’s adoption by the Coltons. Certainly both of the boys had things to unload and considering how well the group had been getting along, it seemed like a good idea.

“Both T.J. and Joe might have things they want to talk about. I’d ask to sit in, but I know T.J. might be more willing to open up if I’m not around.”

Jewel laid a hand on hers as it rested on the table, shifting her iced tea back and forth in the condensation from the glass. “I know that hurts, but you’re right. T.J. will likely be more open if you’re not around. But I’ll keep you posted about what happens. This way you’ll know how to deal with it.”

Macy took hold of Jewel’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Thanks. I’d appreciate anything you can say without violating doctor/patient confidentiality.”

“Deal,” she confirmed and then they sat back and took a moment just to enjoy the peacefulness of the midday break.

Macy was working with two of the younger children when she noticed the teens walking out of the living room where Jewel often held the group therapy sessions.

The two tween boys had their arms around each other’s shoulders and their heads together, talking.

T.J., Joe and Sara followed behind closely, but then split away, walking through the great space and then out to the pool area. They kept on walking beyond the tract of grass with the swing set and Macy assumed T.J. and Joe were off to do the last of their afternoon chores.

Once in the great room, the tween boys headed immediately to the XBOX and she could hear them carrying on about the tricks Joe and T.J. had taught them.

She smiled at the worship of the older boys, but her smile faded as she noted Jewel’s face. Excusing herself from the memory game, but urging the children to continue on their own, she approached her boss.

“You look wiped.”

“Mark finally opened up today. Told the other kids about how his dad used to beat him.”

Both of them suspected that Mark had been physically abused from his manner when he had first come to the ranch, but having him admit it was a good step to helping him deal with the trauma.

“How about Sara?” she wondered, thinking that maybe Mark’s revelation would have encouraged the young girl to tell her own story.

Jewel shook her head. “Nothing. She just sat there, arms wrapped around herself. Silent.”

“Sorry to hear that, but she is coming out of her shell. She seems to talk to T.J. and Joe a lot.”

“That’s a good start. Where are they?” Jewel asked as she scanned the great room and saw no sign of them.

“I saw them heading out back, probably to finish up their chores before the weekend. I’ll go see what they’re up to,” she said and at her boss’s cue of approval, she went in search of them.

As she suspected, they were at the corral, but not working. The two boys sat on the top rail of the fence, Sara between them, head bowed down.

She was about to approach to make sure everything was okay, but then T.J. brought his hand up and patted Sara’s back in a familiar gesture. She had seen Tim do it more than once when comforting his young son and it twisted her heartstrings that Tim would not see the man T.J. would become.

Which was followed by a wave of guilt as she realized that maybe Fisher never would either if she didn’t tell him about his son. If she didn’t make amends for what had happened in the past between them.

Certain that the teens were better off without her presence at that moment, she returned to the ranch house and the game of memory she had left earlier.

But even then she experienced no relief as the children matched up the first few letters.

F.

S.

I.

Certainly someone somewhere was telling her it was time to consider what she would do about Fisher.

Fisher sat across from his dad in Miss Sue’s, enjoying the last of his ribs and delicious fries.

It wasn’t as if he and his dad couldn’t have made themselves dinner. Since their mom had left, the three men had learned how to provide for themselves, but with it being Friday night and all, they needed a treat.

Plus, he hadn’t wanted to waste time cooking when he could be spending it talking to his dad, especially since his time in Esperanza was ticking away quickly. Just a few more weeks and he would head back to the military.

As he ran a fry through the ketchup and ate the last piece of tender meat on the rib, the cowbell clanged over the door. A trio walked in—Macy’s son with another boy and a teen girl.

They stopped at the door to wait to be seated. As the hostess showed them to a booth, they passed by.

“Evening, Mr. Yates,” T.J. said to his dad and nodded at Fisher in greeting as well.

“Evening, T.J. Are these friends of yours?” Buck Yates asked, flicking his large hand in the direction of the other teens with T.J.

“Yes, sir, they are. Joe and Sara, meet Mr. Yates. He’s the sheriff’s dad and this is the sheriff’s brother—Captain Yates.”

Joe and Sara shook hands with the men and then the trio excused themselves.

“Polite young man,” Fisher said, slightly surprised given the accounts provided by his brother about T.J.’s antics.

“He’s a good kid, just a little angry ever since his pa died,” Buck said and pushed away his empty plate.

“It must have been rough,” he said, imagining how difficult it would have been on both Macy and T.J. His own brother had suffered greatly as well since Tim had been his lifelong best friend.

Luckily, Jericho had been Macy’s best friend also and had been by her side during the long months that Tim had battled cancer. At least Macy hadn’t been alone, but it didn’t stop the sudden clenching of his gut that maybe he could have been there for her, as well.

He drove that thought away quickly. Being away from Macy was up there on the list of reasons he had joined the military.

Maybe the top reason, he mused, thinking back to the night that had forever sealed the course of his life.

Chapter 4

Esperanza, Texas

Eighteen years earlier

Jericho stood at the plate, bat held high. His hips shifting back and forth, his body relaxed. He waited for the pitch.

Jericho’s team was down by one. Tim Ward was on third base and another player on second with two men out. It would be the last inning unless they were able to get some runs on the board.

Fisher sat beside his dad on the bleacher and called out encouragement. “You can do it, Jericho.”

His yell was followed by Macy’s from where she sat a few feet away and a row down from them. “Go-o-o, Jericho-o. One little hit.”

She sat beside Jericho’s latest girlfriend. He couldn’t remember her name because Jericho never kept a girl for too long, much like him. The Yates boys were love ’em and leave ’em kinds of guys, he thought.

Macy, on the other hand, wasn’t a love ’em and leave ’em type of girl. Until recently, everyone thought she and Tim were a forever kind of thing what with them going off to college together. Except that in the past few weeks, Macy and Tim didn’t seem to be a thing anymore, which meant that Tim had loved her and left her. That struck him as downright stupid.

The crack of the bat pulled his attention away from thoughts of Macy.

Jericho had lined a rocket of a hit up the first baseline and deep into the corner of the stadium. Tim would score easily to tie the game, but as people got up on the bleachers and started cheering, it was clear the ball was deep enough to maybe score the man from second.

The outfielder picked up the ball and with all his might sent it flying home, but the man from second was already well on his way to the plate. The ball sailed past the catcher as the man slid into home to win the game.

The wild cheering and revelry of the hometown crowd spurred on the players who ran out onto the field to celebrate the victory. After a few moments of exuberant celebration, both the players and the crowd finally quieted down and the players formed a line to shake hands with the other team.

As they did so, the crowd began to disperse from the stands.

“I’ll see you at home, son,” his dad said, clapped him on the back and waved at Jericho on the field.

He jumped down from the bleachers and weaved through the crowd of well-wishers until he reached Jericho, whose new girlfriend was already plastered to his hip.

Tim and Macy stood across from one another awkwardly, clearly no longer a forever kind of thing and surprisingly, he was kind of glad about that.

“Hey, big bro,” Jericho said as he joined them. “Tim, Cindy and I are heading to Bill’s for a post-baseball bash. Want to come hang with us?”

All three of them, but not Macy? he wondered and shot a glance at her as she stood there, hands laced primly together in front of her.

“No thanks, lil’ bro. Just came down to say congrats on winning the game.”

“We’ve gotta run. What about you, Mace?” Jericho said, either clearly oblivious to the tension between his two friends or choosing to ignore it.

“I’ve got…things to do,” she replied, peeking up at him from the corner of her eye.

“We’re history, then,” Jericho said and left with Cindy bumping hips with him on one side and Tim on the other.

He jammed the tips of his fingers into the pockets of his jeans and rocked back on the heels of his boots, hesitant now that he and Macy were alone. “So what’s so important for you to have to do on a Friday night?”

A blast of pink brightened her cheeks before she straightened her shoulders and faced him head on, determination in her brown-eyed gaze. “Well, since it’s early, I was thinking of maybe grabbing a bite at Miss Sue’s. Are you hungry?” After she asked, she worried her bottom lip with her teeth, belying her nervousness around him.

He was hungry, but not necessarily for anything other than a taste of that luscious bottom lip. Years earlier he’d had a taste during what was supposed to be a chaste holiday kiss, but he had underestimated the potency of her kiss. That encounter had made him realize that like Tim, he had been smitten by tomboy Macy Ward.

“I’m hungry, but won’t Tim mind, you know…you and me. Friday night. Dinner.”

She cocked her head at him defiantly. “What I do is no longer any of Tim’s concern. So, dinner?”

Interesting, he thought, but quickly offered her his arm. “Dinner it is. My treat.”

He wanted to lick the plate of the last remnants of Miss Sue’s famous apple cobbler, but his dad had raised him to be a gentleman so he held back.

Macy must have seen the hunger that remained in his gaze since she offered up the last few bites of the pie on her plate. “You can finish mine.”

His mouth watered at the site of those extra pieces, but he shook his head. “I couldn’t take the last of your dessert.”

“Go ahead. I need to watch my figure anyway,” she said, moving aside his plate and pushing hers before him.

Fisher dug into the cobbler, but after he swallowed a bite, he said, “Seems to me you’re worrying for nothing, Mace.”

Truth be told, she had a wonderful figure. Trim and strong, but with womanly curves in all the right places. As he thought about that, he shifted in his seat as his jeans tightened painfully. He had imagined those curves next to him once too often since that fateful kiss.

“Something wrong, Fisher?” she asked, innocently unaware of the effect she had on him.

“Not at all,” he lied, quickly finished the cobbler and paid the tab.

With his hand on the small of her back, he walked her out to the sidewalk where they stood there for a moment, enjoying the early summer night. Dusk was just settling in, bringing with it the cooler night air and the soft intimate glow of the streetlights along Main Street.

“Thank you for dinner,” Macy said, glad for not only the fine food, but his company. He had always been a distant fourth musketeer to their little group and tonight she had been able to enjoy his presence without interference.

As he turned to look at her, she noticed the gleam in his green eyes. The kind of gleam that kicked her heart up into a hurried little beat. She might have been going out with Tim for as long as she could remember, but she could still recognize when a man found her attractive. And considering her breakup with Tim, it was a welcome balm that someone as attractive as Fisher appeared to be interested.

He smiled, his teeth white against his tanned skin and his dark five o’clock shadow. He was the kind of man who needed to shave more than twice a day. He was a man, she reminded herself, trying to ignore the pull of her attraction to him. Nothing like Jericho and Tim, even though Fisher was only two years older. There had always been a maturity and intensity about him that had set him apart from the others.

“It’s early still,” he said, the tones of his voice a soft murmur in the coming quiet of the night.

“It is,” she said.

He leaned toward her and a lock of nearly jet-black hair fell forward onto his forehead as he said, “Too early to call it a night, don’t you think?”

She met his gaze, glittering brightly with interest, the color like new spring grass. Kicking up that erratic beat of her heart and making her want to reach up and brush away that wild errant lock of hair.

“Did you have something in mind?” she asked in a breathless voice she didn’t recognize.

“How about a drive? I’ll even put the top down on the CJ.”

She imagined driving through the night, Fisher beside her. The scents of the early summer wildflowers whipping around them as they sped along in the open Jeep through the Texas countryside.

“I think that sounds really nice.”

They drove through the open meadows and fields surrounding Esperanza, the scented wind wrapping them in its embrace while bright moonlight lit the road before them until Fisher took a dirt road to one of the few nearby hills. He parked the CJ so it faced the lights of town and the wide starlit Texas sky.

She imagined she could see the lights of San Antonio, well to the south of their hometown. She and Tim had planned on going to college together there until Tim had said he was reconsidering that decision. She gazed at the lights of Esperanza and noticed the cars parked around Bill’s house where Jericho and Tim would be with the rest of the baseball team. Where she might have been a few weeks earlier if things hadn’t changed recently.

“Penny for your thoughts,” he said and pushed back some strands of wind-blown hair from her face. The pads of his fingers brushed the sensitive skin of her cheek, sending a shiver rocketing through her body.

“Do you ever wonder if some things happen for a reason?” she asked.

“Meaning?” He arched one dark brow in question.

“Tim and me. His breaking it off.” She shrugged and turned in her seat to face him. “If it hadn’t been for that—”

“Being the nice girl that you are, you wouldn’t be here tonight.” He once again brushed the tips of his fingers across her cheek, then trailed them down to cup her jaw.

“Is that what you think I am? A nice girl?” she shot back, slightly perturbed, which was ridiculous. She was a nice gir,l unlike many of the women with whom Fisher had been seen around town.

“Don’t get so riled, Mace. There’s nothing wrong with being a nice girl.”

The words shot out of her mouth before she could censor them. “And boys like you don’t think about doing things with nice girls.”

“Boys like me?” he asked with another pointed arch of his brow and a wry smile on his lips.

Macy fidgeted with her hands, plucking at the seat belt she still wore. “You know, love ’em and leave ’em types like you.”

He chuckled and shook his head, but he never broke the contact of his hand against her chin. Instead, he inched his thumb up to brush softly across her lips.

“Let’s get something straight, Mace. First of all, I’m not a boy, I’m a man. A man whose daddy would tan his hide for the thoughts he’s having right now about the nice girl who happens to be sitting next to him.”

The warmth on the pad of his thumb spread itself across her lips and with his words, shot through the rest of her body. “Thoughts? What kinds of thoughts?”

He chuckled again, only with something darker and dangerously sexy this time. “You always were the daring type.”

“He who dares, wins,” she reminded him.

The smile on his face broadened and he leaned toward her until the warmth of his breath replaced that of his thumb against her lips. “Then I guess I should dare,” he said and brought his lips to hers.

The shock of his hard mouth against hers was quickly replaced by a sense of…rightness which surprised her considering that this was Jericho’s brother. That up until a few weeks ago, she had thought she was about to embark on a life with another man.

Another man who had rejected her. Who had never made her feel the way Fisher now made her feel.

The tip of his tongue tasted her lips, gently asked for entrance at the seam of her mouth. She opened her lips and accepted the thrust of his tongue. Joined it with hers until they were both breathing heavily and had to break apart for air.

Fisher turned away from her and clenched his hands on his thighs, struggling for control. This was Macy, he reminded himself, rubbing his hands across the soft denim of his jeans. Jericho’s best friend and Tim’s intended, he recalled as he held back from reaching for her again.

Only she wasn’t Tim’s anymore, the voice inside his head challenged and then urged, And now she can be yours.

He faced her and seeing the desire in her eyes, he asked, “Are you sure about this?”

She nodded quickly and he didn’t second guess her decision. Reaching into the backseat of the CJ, he grabbed a blanket he kept there and stepped out of the car. Swinging around the front, he met her by the passenger side door and slipped his hand into hers. Twined his fingers with hers as he led her a few feet away from the Jeep to a soft spot of grass on the overlook.

He released her only long enough to spread out the blanket and then he urged her down.

For long moments they lay side by side on their backs, staring up at the late May moon. Listening to the rustle of the light breeze along the taller grass and the profusion of wildflowers that perfumed the air.

Fisher rolled onto his side and ran the back of his index finger along the high straight ridge of her cheek. He had known her all his life and had thought she was the prettiest woman he had ever seen.

“You’re beautiful.”

Much like before, an embarrassed flush worked across her cheeks as she avoided his gaze. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

He laughed and shook his head. “Now why do you think I’m such a hound dog?”

“Because I’ve seen you around town with all those dangerous women,” she answered and the blush along her cheeks deepened.

“Jealous?” he asked, but then immediately confessed, “Because every time I saw you with Tim, I was jealous.”

A little jolt of excitement rattled her body before Macy turned onto her side and cradled his cheek. His five o’clock shadow tickled the palm of her hand. As she met his gaze, made a silvery green by the light of the moon, she detected no deception there, just honesty.

“Why didn’t you—”

“You were Tim’s girl and Jericho’s best friend. I wasn’t going to be responsible for breaking up the Three Musketeers,” he said and shrugged.

“And now?” she asked, mimicking his earlier move by bringing her thumb to trace the warm fullness of his lips which broadened into a sexy dimpled smile with her caress.

“He who dares, wins,” he said and brought his lips to hers.

Chapter 5

“I’ve never seen a smile like that one before,” Buck Yates said as he signaled for the waitress, who immediately came over.

“I bet I know what you’d like, Buck,” she said as she picked up the empty plates from the table. “A slice of Miss Sue’s famous cherry pie and some coffee.”

“You know me too well, Lizzy. How about you, Fisher? Was it something sweet that put that smile on your face?” Buck teased.

Something sweet and hot, Fisher thought, recalling the taste of Macy’s lips and the warmth of her body pressed to his as they had made love that long ago night.

Shifting in his seat to readjust his increasingly tight jeans, he looked up at the perky young waitress. “I’ll take a slice of that pie with some vanilla ice cream, please.”

He needed the chill to cool down his thoughts.

As Lizzy walked away with their empty plates and orders, Buck once again resumed the earlier conversation. “So what had you smiling like the cat that ate the cream? A woman, and I hope a decent one at that.”

With some force, Fisher shook his head. “Come on, Pa. You know I can’t offer a decent woman the kind of life she’d want.”

“Nonsense,” Buck began and for emphasis, jabbed a gnarly index finger in his direction. “Plenty of military men have wives and families.”

He couldn’t argue with his dad, although he understood how difficult it was for such men. Being away from their families for months on end. The fears and dangers that each new mission brought for those left behind.

“I don’t think I could share my kind of life with a woman.”

His father was about to speak when Lizzy returned with the pies and coffee, but as soon as she left them, his dad continued his plea. “You could if you took that teaching assignment at West Point.”

For weeks since the offer had come, he had been debating between that and returning for another tour of duty in the Middle East. As captain of his squad, he had recently led his men safely through three tours. He couldn’t imagine leaving them.

“I don’t want to abandon my men. Besides, I like the military life. It’s orderly. Disciplined.”

“Lonely,” Buck jumped in. “At the end of the day when you hang up that uniform with all those medals—”

“I’ll know that I helped bring home alive as many men as I could. Their families will thank me for that,” he replied and forked up a bit of the pie and ice cream. The taste was wooden in his mouth because a part of him recognized that on some level his father was right.

At the end of his career, no matter how successful he had been, his uniform would hang in a closet empty of any traces of a woman or family. Despite that, he couldn’t picture himself as a father or husband. Solving a family’s problems instead of those of his men. He wasn’t sure how to handle such things.

While glancing down at his pie, he said, “I know you’d like grandkids to carry on the Yates name, Pa. Seems to me Jericho’s the one you should look to for that.”

“Hard to believe it’s only been a couple of weeks since he met Olivia and married her,” his father said.

“I admire that Jericho’s willing to claim Olivia’s baby as his own and if I know my brother—”

“He’ll be wanting more with her. I can see how much he cares for Olivia and it really makes me happy. I always worried after what happened with your ma—”

“Don’t blame yourself. You did what you could and we all know we were better off without her,” he said and yet a part of him acknowledged that her leaving had ripped away a piece of each of them. That for him and Jericho, it had made them leery of loving a woman for fear of being abandoned again.

Like Macy had abandoned him, he thought, recalling how despite their one night of incredible passion she had walked down the aisle with Tim Ward just over a month later.

His dad must have picked up on his upset. “You shouldn’t let your ma leaving eat away at your gut like that. Neither you or Jericho had anything to do with that.”

“You’re right, Pa,” he said, wanting to foreclose any further discussion. Wanting to forget anything and everything relating to Macy Ward.

He wasn’t meant for women like her or for a family kind of life. The military was what had brought order and happiness to his life eighteen years earlier.

It was what would bring order and happiness to his life for the future.

For the first Friday night in too many months, Macy felt like she could actually just kick back and relax.

The change in T.J. in a little over a week was a welcome surprise. He had clearly bonded not only with Joe, but with Sara. She hoped that friendship would help the young girl come out of her shell and talk about her problems. The Hopechest Ranch policy was not to press for details, but offer refuge. She knew, however, that she did the most good when the children were finally able to talk about their traumas.

Maybe Sara’s friendship with T.J. and Joe would help her trust them enough to share and begin the road to healing.

Much as T.J. seemed to be healing.

In addition to the bonding, T.J. and Joe had completed each and every task that had been asked of them at the ranch and eagerly helped out with the other kids during their free time. Because of his exemplary behavior, when T.J. had asked if he could go to town with Joe and Sara, she had unequivo-cally said “Yes.”

Which meant she had time to just unwind. Rare time in her normally hectic life.

She had filled her big claw-footed tub with steaming hot water and added some fragrant rose oils that Jewel had given her as an engagement gift. She had attempted to return them after she cancelled the wedding, but Jewel had insisted she keep them so she could treat herself.

Treat herself she would, she thought, tying the lush terry cloth robe around herself and pouring a glass of wine to take with her to the bath. On the way, she snagged her brand-new romance novel from the nightstand in her bedroom.

Tim had always teased her about her romances until she had insisted he read them to her at night before bed.

He had never complained again after that, she thought with a smile as she set the book and wine on the painted wrought iron caddy. It perfectly matched the Victorian look of her bathroom, her one touch of fanciful in her otherwise modest and plain home.

She might have taken the Victorian theme further in the house, but realized it might have made it a little too girly for T.J. and had refrained from doing so. But in here and her bedroom—her private domain—she let herself give into her fantasies.

She slipped into the tub and the heat of the water immediately began to soak away some of the aches and tiredness. She loved working at the ranch, but with half a dozen children and the two teen boys, it was always a whirlwind of activities and quite physical.

The activities, however, were clearly making progress with some of the children. In the months she had been at the ranch, she had seen noticeable improvements not only in their academic skills, but their social ones. Kids who had once been loners were finally coming out of their shells.

It was what made her career so rewarding.

Grabbing the book off the caddy, she cracked it open and began to read, only she hadn’t realized it was a book with a hero in the military. It normally didn’t bother her, but her emotions were too unsettled with Fisher in town and so she set the book aside and picked up her wineglass.

As she took a sip, she recalled the sight of him and Jericho standing outside the church. Jericho had been so handsome in his tuxedo, but it had been Fisher standing there in his Army uniform, medals gleaming in the sun, that had caused her heart to skip a beat.

Even if she hadn’t had any doubts about her marriage to Jericho before then, that reaction alone would have made her realize she was making a big mistake.

No matter how much she tried to forget it, her one and only night with Fisher had left an indelible memory. One she had driven deep inside her heart when she had made the decision to marry Tim Ward.

The right decision, she reminded herself as she took a small sip of the wine.

She and Tim had been destined to be together, their short breakup in high school notwithstanding. Tim was kind and patient and honorable. When she had told him she was pregnant just a short time before their wedding, he had been understanding and had even talked to her about telling Fisher.

She had considered it back then and in the many years since. But Jericho had been going on and on about how happy Fisher was in the Army and since their night together, Fisher never approached her again.

Talk had been that Fisher was the kind of man who couldn’t commit and back then she felt he had loved and left her. When she had heard about his enlistment in the Army, it had made no sense to ruin his life by telling him about a child he probably wouldn’t want.

But then she recalled the way he had looked at her on the steps of the church. Imagined she had seen desire in his gaze along with hurt. Not that she could hurt him unless he actually had feelings for her. Something which she didn’t want to consider because it would complicate things.

Forcing her mind from such troubling thoughts, she placed her nearly untouched glass of wine on the caddy and sank farther into the bone-melting heat of the water. The fragrance of roses wafted around her, reminding her of the profusion of wild rose bushes tangled amongst the small stands of trees just outside the Esperanza town limits.

Reminding her of how the night had smelled while she made love with Fisher.

She shot upright in the bath, mumbling a curse, but then the phone rang and she mumbled yet another curse.

She had left the portable phone in her room.

As it continued to ring, demanding her attention, she climbed out of the bath, grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her. She raced to her bedroom to pick up before the answering machine kicked in.

Unfortunately, the answering machine engaged just as she reached it and heard across the speaker, “Mrs. Ward. This is Deputy Rawlings.”

Her stomach dropped at the identity of the caller. At his next words, sadness and disappointment filled her soul. “I’ve got your son down at the station.”

Chapter 6

T.J. walked out of the sheriff’s office beside her, his body ramrod straight and stiff with tension. He hadn’t offered up much of an explanation for the speeding which had led to his running into another car just on the outskirts of town.

Luckily the damage to both cars had been minor and no one had been injured. But because of their age and the speeding, the Deputy had decided to take the boys in and call her and Jewel.

She looked over her shoulder at her boss who walked beside Joe. The teen had a hangdog look on his face and clearly seemed to be sorry for what had happened.

Unlike T.J.

As they exited the police station, she spotted Fisher strolling out of Lone Star Square. Judging from the activity in the square, the movie had apparently just let out in the theater on the other side of the plaza. Some of the people headed to the cars parked all along the edges of the central space while Fisher and another couple waited to cross the street. He noticed them leaving the police station and condemnation flashed across his features.

It made her want to go over and wipe that critical look from his face, but she plowed forward. Speaking with T.J. about what had happened tonight needed to be her number one priority right now.

As they approached the parking lot, she inspected yet again the damage to T.J.’s car—a big ugly dent along the front bumper and part of the passenger side panel of the 1974 Pontiac GTO.

The GTO that his dad had bought as a rusty heap and had been restoring for years before his death. The GTO that T.J. had also been, as he called it, “pimping.”

She paused before the car and stared at the damage before she looked up and met Jewel’s concerned gaze, Joe’s sheepish one and T.J.’s stony countenance.

“Luckily no one was hurt and the damage to both cars can be repaired. When we get home, we’ll discuss how you’re going to pay for those repairs and the speeding ticket,” she said. Handing T.J. the keys to the GTO, she finished, “I’ll follow you home.”

Turning to Jewel, she noticed her friend’s concern, but also Jewel’s interest in Fisher as she glanced back across Main Street toward where he still stood on the edge of Lone Star Square, watching them.

She laid a hand on her friend’s arm. “Can we talk about it in the morning? It’s late and we should all be heading home.”

Jewel nodded, faced Joe and said, “Let’s go. You and I have a lot to discuss, as well.”

As the two walked away, Macy waited for T.J. to get in his car and then she went to her own late model Cherokee, starting it up and then idling it until T.J. pulled out of the parking lot.

T.J.’s pace as he exited was slow.

Slow enough that it gave her yet another chance to see Fisher, the disapproval still stamped on his face as he observed them.

“Tell me again what happened?” she pressed, sensing there was something off about T.J.’s version of the speeding and accident.

“It was just an accident, Ma,” he said, slouching negligently in his chair in the kitchen.

“Tell me again why you were speeding?”

His big hands, like those of Fisher, man’s hands on a boy’s body, flopped up and down before settling on the surface of the table. “I didn’t mean to only…There was another car. It was fast. It kept getting in our face—”

“In your face? As in threatening you? Why didn’t you pull over? Use your cell phone to call the police?” Macy asked as she rested her hands on the table where T.J. sat, leaning closer.

A glimmer of fear flickered across his features, impossible to miss. “No, not like that. You know like…challenging us. Trying to prove their car was better.”

She understood about men and cars. Entire industries had been built about proving who was faster, better, fancier. She also understood about men and cars and girls.

“Sara was with you?”

Another small flinch rippled across his body and T.J. couldn’t meet her gaze as he answered, “We had already dropped Sara off at the ranch.”

She hadn’t had time at the police station to ask Jewel whether Sara had been home at the ranch when the call had come from Deputy Rawlings. She certainly would ask tomorrow because she was sure T.J. wasn’t telling the truth.

“So you were drag racing? And because you were speeding, you couldn’t stop when that car pulled out?”

An indifferent shrug greeted her queries, infuriating her, but she knew she had to keep her cool. Nothing would be gained by anger.

“You’ve already earned enough at the ranch to pay me back for the coach’s mailbox. What you earn from now on will pay for the repairs to both cars and the speeding ticket. Do you understand?”

He nodded without hesitation, but never raised his gaze to meet hers.

“You’re also grounded for a month. You come home after your work at the ranch. On the weekends, I’ll have chores for you to do around the house. Understood?”

A shrug greeted her punishment.

“I’m going to bed. It’s late and we both need to go to work tomorrow,” she said, but she didn’t want the night to end angrily.

She kneeled before her son, cradled his jaw with her hand and gently urged his face upward. Reluctantly, he met her gaze. “You are the most important thing in the world to me, T.J. You can trust me with anything. Anything,” she said in the hopes of having him tell her the truth about what had really happened that night.

A sheen of tears glimmered in her son’s eyes. He gulped, holding back emotion before he said, “I know, Mom. I love you.”

“I love you,” she said, sat up and hugged him, believing that all would be right with him as long as they still had love to bind them together.

She was a coward, she thought, not looking forward to speaking with Jewel about what had happened the night before. Because of that, and knowing Jewel’s sweet tooth, she was on her way to Miss Sue’s again for yet more sticky buns.

Luck was on her side as there was an empty parking space directly in front of Miss Sue’s. But then she noticed that Fisher was once again sitting at a booth in the restaurant.

Didn’t he ever eat at home? she wondered with irritation as she took a deep breath to fortify herself, exited the car and entered the cafe.

As she passed by the booth where he sat finishing up a mound of Miss Sue’s scrambled eggs with bacon, cheese and hash browns, he met her gaze. Rebuke filled his green eyes and within her, annoyance built. At the counter, she forced a smile to her face as she ordered the sticky buns.

The waitress smiled warmly and offered her sympathies. “Boys will be boys, Macy. Don’t let it get to you.”

She nodded, but said nothing else. She also didn’t turn to brave the rest of the people in the restaurant, although she sensed their stares as she waited. In a town the size of Esperanza, Miss Sue’s was Information Central and everyone already knew about what had happened the night before.

Her sticky bun order came up to the counter. She paid quickly, eager to make her exit, but as she headed out, she noticed Fisher’s attention was on her once again and something inside of her snapped.

In one smooth move, she slipped into the booth across from him, surprising him with her action. Calmly she said, “You don’t know me or my son, so don’t presume to judge us so quickly.”

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