Will an abandoned child bring them together?

Or tear them apart?

Cowboy Jericho Johnson lives a good life working on the Rebel family’s Texas ranch. All he’s missing is a wonderful woman like Anamarie Wiznowski. But Rico’s troubled past and Ana’s disapproving family conspire against them. When Rico is named guardian to a four-year-old boy, he asks Ana for help. And suddenly, he’s falling faster than Christmas snow...for Ana, sweet little Dusty and life as a family man!

Two-time RITA® Award–nominated author LINDA WARREN has written over forty books for Harlequin. A native Texan, she’s a member of Romance Writers of America and the RWA West Houston chapter. Drawing upon her years of growing up on a ranch, she writes about some of her favorite things: Western-style romance, cowboys and country life. She married her high school sweetheart and they live on a lake in central Texas. He fishes and she writes. Works perfect.

Also By Linda Warren

Texas Rebels

Texas Rebels: Egan

Texas Rebels: Falcon

Texas Rebels: Quincy

Texas Rebels: Jude

Texas Rebels: Phoenix

Texas Rebels: Paxton

Texas Rebels: Elias

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

A Child’s Gift

Linda Warren

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-0-008-90090-8

A CHILD’S GIFT

© 2020 Linda Warren

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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“Can Ana come, too?”

Rico looked into Anamarie’s blue eyes. “You bet.” He got up, feeling a little unsure of what was ahead of him, but he could do no less.

“That’s so nice of you to take him.”

Rico placed Dustin on his feet. “Go tell the sheriff thank you for letting you stay with me. Then we’ll go.”

“’Kay.”

Rico needed a minute to talk to Anamarie. She picked up the sippy cup, which hadn’t broken or leaked onto the floor. “I might need your help. Are you available?”

She smiled one of her trademark smiles. “You bet.”

They walked back to the bakery with Dusty between them. Mickey trailed behind. Rico carried the duffel bag and quilt over his shoulder, and thought this was a slice of heaven being together with Anamarie and Dusty. It was almost like a family. It was almost real. The almost kept him from thinking any further. Happily-ever-after wasn’t in his future. It never had been.

Dear Reader,

The Texas Rebels series began in Harlequin Western Romance, and I’m so happy to continue the series for Harlequin Heartwarming.

Jericho Johnson’s life hasn’t been easy, but he’s grateful to the Rebel family for giving him a home. Even so, he never feels as if he fits in, and he yearns for a family of his own. But he’s a loner by nature and feels that will never happen. Until Anamarie Wiznowski smiles at him. She gives him hope that they could have a future together. These are two people who want the same thing: a home and a family. But the struggle to get them there was a tearjerker. I shed a few tears over their story.

I have to say Jericho is the kindest hero I have ever written. I was so glad to give him his happy ending. It’s been a long time since I visited Horseshoe, Texas, and I hope you enjoy the visit and Jericho and Anamarie’s journey.

With love and thanks,

Linda

PS: You can email me at Lw1508@aol.com, send me a message on Facebook.com/authorlindawarren, find me on Twitter, @texauthor, write me at PO Box 5182, Bryan, TX 77805 or visit my website at lindawarren.net. Your mail and thoughts are deeply appreciated.

The heroine in this book is a great cook. So I dedicate this book to Tammy Medina, my friend, my right hand, for all the marathon cooking days in my kitchen.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Introduction

Dear Reader

Dedication

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

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

EPILOGUE

Extract

About the Publisher

CHAPTER ONE

JERICHO JOHNSON WASN’T a complicated guy; the simple life suited him just fine.

Like this morning, driving in the early dawn with the morning dew glistening off his windshield, the beam of his headlights piercing the wall of darkness as he drove into Horseshoe, Texas. Simple. Quiet. Perfect.

A two-story limestone courthouse, over a century old, stood as sentinel over the two-thousand-plus citizens. Large gnarled oaks gave it a bygone-days presence. At the top was a Gothic-like clock tower that never had the correct time. Most people in Horseshoe set their watches by it, making them a little off. Time-wise.

At this hour there wasn’t much going on in the small town, but the lights were on in the diner and in the bakery. He pulled in at the bakery.

It was Tuesday morning. No fanfare. No balloons. No confetti. Just plain ol’ Tuesday—his favorite day of the week. For about two years now he’d been picking up kolaches for the guys at Rebel Ranch every Tuesday morning. That was his excuse to see Anamarie Wiznowski. He liked Anamarie more than he wanted to admit, but nothing could come of their relationship. Her parents, especially her mother, would never allow her to date an ex-con.

When people turned away from him or avoided speaking to him, he felt sure those words were branded on his forehead. He was a loner and he wore a stone-like expression, as some people called it. He tried not to care what people thought of him, but each snub cut a little deeper on the inside. Until he met Anamarie, he’d kept to himself.

He tapped on the glass door and Anamarie hurried from the back. It was mid-May and the tepid south wind nipped at his clothes as the hint of summer whistled through the trees. She opened the door and he lost all train of thought at the smile on her pretty face. A hairnet covered her hair and a big apron adorned the front of her jeans and blouse. She’d never looked lovelier to him. Her blue eyes sparkled as bright as the morning dew. He never grew tired of looking at her.

Unlocking the door, she said, “Good morning—come on in. Your coffee’s ready. I’ll be with you in a minute.”

Jericho removed his hat and stepped into the bakery with its black-and-white-checkered floor, breathing in the heavenly scent of fresh-baked kolaches. He never tired of that, either. In an hour or so the place would be swarming with eager customers. He glanced toward the kitchen and asked, “Are you by yourself this morning?” Usually there were a couple of ladies in the back, but this morning he didn’t see anyone.

“Yes. Can you believe it?” she shouted from the kitchen. “Margie didn’t show up so I guess that means she and Bubba had a big fight. Judy had a flat tire, but she’ll be here soon.”

Bubba was Anamarie’s brother and he and Margie had an on-and-off-again relationship. Bubba owned the gas station and a wrecker service and he also helped the sheriff every now and then. He was well known around the town, and was a friend of the Rebel family. And of Jericho’s.

After hooking his hat on an ornate wrought-iron hat rack made by Anamarie’s father, he eased his tall frame into a chair at one of the small red tables in the eating area. Anamarie returned with two steaming cups of coffee and a plate of fresh kolaches. The hairnet and apron were gone and her smile lit up his cold heart. Besides the Rebel family, she was the only one in town who hadn’t snubbed him. Her blond hair was pulled back into a topknot and several strands were loose around her face. At forty, she had this idea in her head that she was overweight and she didn’t think of herself as attractive. He’d told her before that she was just the right size. And she was to him. Time and time again she mentioned the weight thing. He couldn’t convince her otherwise.

“Cherry kolaches,” she said as he picked up the heavenly treat.

He took a bite and she picked up the cheese one. “I should just slather this on my hips.” She made a face.

“Don’t start. You’re the perfect size and I don’t know why you’re always complaining about it. Look in the mirror for heaven sakes.”

“You’re just saying that to be nice.”

“Do you think I come in here just for the kolaches?”

She shrugged, sipping coffee.

“Or to visit with an ugly overweight woman?”

She spit coffee all over the table and giggled. She quickly dabbed at her mouth, holding the laughter inside. But it showed on her face and he never saw anything more beautiful. Why couldn’t she see that about herself?

“You’re so good for me,” she said, wiping coffee from the table with a napkin.

“You’re good for me, too.”

Their eyes met and there were so many emotions he saw there, but he could also see she wasn’t ready to express them. He didn’t know if she ever would be.

She leaned back in her chair. “It feels so good to sit and relax before all the madness starts.” Her voice held a soft caring quality and he didn’t know of anyone who cared more about people than she did.

“You work too hard.” He wrapped his hands around his cup.

“Look who’s talking. You put in long hours, just like I do.”

“But I don’t get up at two thirty in the morning.”

“Yeah.” She stared down into her coffee and he wished he could read her thoughts. “That is getting old, but it’s my job. Mom’s not as spry as she used to be, so it’s up to me to run the bakery.”

The Wiznowskis were one of the founding families of Horseshoe. Willard, Anamarie’s dad, owned the blacksmith shop. Her twin sisters, Patsy and Peggy, ran Talk of the Town Beauty Shop. And, of course, Bubba had the gas station. The youngest, Angie, was married to Hardison Hollister, the district attorney. Angie also had an office connected to the bakery. She was an accountant and took care of the books for the bakery and several other businesses. There were another boy and girl, but they had moved away. The Wiznowskis were good people and Rico had to wonder if he would ever be allowed to see their daughter other than on Tuesday morning.

He had a good family, too, sort of. He had saved Egan Rebel’s life in prison when Egan had been unjustly accused of a crime. Egan’s mother, Kate Rebel, had hired a new attorney and had gotten her son out quickly. When Egan had told her about the incident in prison, Miss Kate had hired an attorney for Jericho and within three months he had been released. He had no family and nowhere to go. Miss Kate had offered him a job at Rebel Ranch and he had gladly accepted. Even though he had known nothing about cowboying, he’d been willing to learn. The family had accepted him wholeheartedly and without prejudice. That went a long way toward healing old wounds. There were seven Rebel sons: Falcon, Quincy, Egan, Elias, Jude, Paxton and Phoenix. At first, his loyalty had been to Egan, but now he was close to all the brothers and he would give his life for any one of them.

“Are you still building fences with Elias?”

He took a long sip of coffee. “Yep. Miss Kate and Falcon decided to clear some land to the north to run more cattle. It’s overrun with bushes and scrub oaks. Elias and I are trying to get a cross fence up before hay season starts.”

“They are so lucky to have you.” She reached across the table and touched his hand around the cup. In a split second, she withdrew it and scooted back nervously in the chair.

He didn’t want her to be nervous about touching him. It should be natural and easy, the way their conversations had been over the last few years. He wanted to reassure her, but she broke into his thoughts.

“I can’t believe Maribel is pregnant. I saw her the other day at the bank and she’s really showing now. Two kids, twenty years apart. That has to be a shock.”

Talking about other people was more comfortable for her. He just wished he could turn the conversation back to them. But, as usual, he went with the flow.

“I think they miss Chase since he went off to college and they decided to have another child. Maribel really wants a girl. Elias, he’s just happy.”

“It’s a true love story.” Her eyes took on a faraway expression and Rico just stared at all the dreams he saw in them. Why she thought she could never have what other women had, he never understood. Maybe because of her mother, Doris, who was always putting her down. Always expecting things of her she didn’t expect of her other children. He didn’t like the way Anamarie was treated, but then again, it was his rule to stay out of family relationships. One day he might just have to break that rule.

Suddenly, a frown marred her face and he turned to see what had caused it. A little boy of about three or four stood at the front door with his face pressed against the glass. It was dark outside. Where had the kid come from? Rico got up and unlocked the door and the little boy stepped inside with a small mixed-breed black-and-white dog at his feet. The boy’s jeans and T-shirt were filthy, as were his sneakers. He looked as if he hadn’t had a bath in weeks. He had dark eyes and hair. One hand was clenched at his side and he raised it up and opened his hand. In the palm were a quarter, a nickel and two pennies.

“I’d like to buy some food, please.” The dog barked as if to second the request.

“Ah...sure.” Rico glanced toward Anamarie, but she was already in the kitchen. He guided the boy to a table and picked him up and sat him in a chair.

Anamarie brought a glass of milk and a plate of kolaches and cut-up sausage rolls and placed it in front of the little boy. He didn’t take it. Instead he placed the money on the table.

“I have to pay for it,” the little boy said. “My grandma said we have to pay for what we get.”

“It’s okay, sweetie. The food’s on me. You don’t have to pay me anything.”

The little boy shook his head stubbornly. “No. My grandma said we have to pay for what we get.”

Anamarie looked at Rico and he nodded. She picked up a penny and said, “This pays for the food. You can keep the rest.”

“Mickey’s hungry, too.” He glanced down at the dog. “He’s a dog, not a mouse.”

Anamarie smiled at Rico and his world felt complete when she did that. She then went to the kitchen and came back with a bowl of milk and some sausage rolls. As she placed it in front of the dog, the kid asked, “Do I owe you more money?”

“No, no,” she replied. “You’ve paid for everything.”

“’Kay.” He slipped the rest of the money back into his pocket and picked up the glass of milk, guzzling it. Some ran down his chin.

“Hey, buddy, slow down.” Rico reached for a napkin and dabbed at his chin. “Take it slow.” The little boy did as he was told and Rico stepped over to Anamarie.

“Do you recognize him?”

“He’s Wendy Miller’s grandson. He’s usually very neat. I can’t imagine what he’s doing out at this hour by himself.”

“I’m going outside to check around. Maybe Mrs. Miller is outside and sent him in to get food. It’s obvious he hasn’t eaten in a while.”

He couldn’t see much through the darkness. The roar of cars on the highway hummed loudly. A delivery van pulled up to the diner and the sun strained to peep through the clouds—signs of a town slowly waking up to a new day. Nothing out of the ordinary. He went back inside.

“After he finishes eating, I’ll talk to him,” he told Anamarie.

The little boy wiped his mouth, and said, “Thank you. I gotta go home now.” He slid from the chair, but Rico stopped him.

“Hold on, little guy.” He pulled up a chair and sat in front of the boy. “What’s your name?”

“Dustin,” was the response. “But my grandma calls me Dusty.”

“Do you know your last name?”

The boy nodded. “Dustin Miller. I can write it. Do you wanna see?”

“Maybe later. How old are you?”

Dustin held up four fingers.

“Do you go to school?”

The boy nodded again and made to walk around Rico. “I gotta go. My grandma will be mad if I’m not there when she wakes up.”

“You live with your grandma?”

“Yeah. But she’s sick and I can’t wake her up.”

That didn’t sound good and Rico feared the worst. “Where does your grandma live?”

“Over there.” The boy pointed toward the bakery’s windows.

“Did you walk here by yourself?” Rico hated to ask so many questions, but he needed answers.

Dustin shook his head. “Mickey came with me ’cause we were hungry.” The boy looked down at the dog and the dog licked his lips from the milk Anamarie had given him.

“Has your grandma been sick?”

“Yeah. She got moana.”

Rico thought about that for a minute and asked, “You mean pneumonia?”

“Yeah. She has to rest. She made me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and milk and told me to be good. She didn’t wake up for supper so I made my own peanut butter jelly sandwich. Made one for Mickey, too. Grandma’s still sleeping. She won’t wake up and we don’t have any more peanut butter and jelly.”

Rico picked up the boy again and sat him in the chair. “Your grandma probably needs medical attention. I’m going to call someone to help her.”

“’Kay.” Dusty rubbed the side of his head and his eyelids fluttered. He was sleepy. He’d probably been up all night trying to wake his grandma.

There was a bench where customers could sit and wait for their orders. Rico turned to Anamarie. “Do you have any big jackets, a blanket or something?”

Rico laid Dusty on a big quilt Anamarie had provided. “Why don’t you take a nap while I find out about your grandma.”

“’Kay.” His eyelids fluttered again and in a second he was sound asleep. The dog hopped up on the bench and snuggled against the boy.

Rico stared at the boy who seemed lost and alone, and a memory from his past wedged its way into his mind. He tried forcing it away but it was right there on the edge of his memory—a little boy, about the same age as Dusty, facing loss and an undetermined future. His mother had just died from a drug overdose. The boy was half Latino and half white and neither side of the family wanted him, so he was put into foster care. Then a miracle happened. His great-grandmother on the Latino side of the family came and got him and raised him. She lived in Houston and she taught him about love, faith and God. She also taught him about respect and manners. Every day she preached right from wrong and at night when she put him to bed, she always told him she loved him. His great-grandmother had been his whole world. Then the gangs had moved into the neighborhood and his happy world had been turned upside down. He promised his grandmother he would never do drugs and he fought those outside influences every step of the way. His hand unconsciously touched the scar on his face. His life was never the same again. But that boy got a second chance. The Rebel family said that Rico had saved Egan’s life, but in truth Egan had saved Rico’s life.

Rico was going to make sure this little boy had every chance available to him. He pulled out his phone and called the sheriff.

ANAMARIE WATCHED AS Rico dealt with the boy. He was gentle, loving and caring, and the boy responded to that. Dustin didn’t even seem to notice the scar on Rico’s face, as most kids did. People in town steered clear of the mysterious man who worked on Rebel Ranch. He was often given the cold shoulder. The first time Anamarie had met him he had come into the bakery to buy kolaches for Egan’s dog. Any man who would take the time to buy kolaches for someone else’s dog had to be special, that was her thought at the time. And that thought had never changed. He came into the shop many times and they talked about nonsensical things. Her mother scolded her for talking to him, but Anamarie never listened to her.

He stood staring at the little boy. Dustin was adorable and she knew the sheriff would find out what had happened to Wendy. It would get sorted out. She had to restrain herself from gobbling up the little boy like Mickey had gobbled his food. She was good at restraining herself around children. That was one area she knew she couldn’t get involved. It would break her heart.

Her eyes rested on the man. Well over six feet tall, with broad shoulders, Rico had dark brown eyes and hair and a lean muscled body. His hair was long and tied into a ponytail at his neck, giving him a roguish sort of look. His face was all angles and planes, sharp and defined. The scar across his left cheek made him appear dark and intimidating to others, but never to her. Something in her was drawn to him. He had an air of inherent strength that came from life’s lessons. He’d had a hard life and his persona spoke of that every time she saw him. When she looked into his dark eyes, all she could feel was the warmth they radiated and she knew there was a softer side to Jericho Johnson—a soft pleasant side. But his strength was always there.

About two years ago some boys who were being bullied placed bombs in the school and locked everyone inside the gym. Elias and Jericho had gone in to get everyone out, not knowing when the bombs would go off. Elias had gotten all the credit for that, but Jericho had also risked his life to save other people’s children. After that, the town’s attitude toward Jericho had changed a little. Some people spoke to him when they met him on the street, but not one of them would invite him into their home or invite him to dinner. Her mother was one of those people and some days that was hard for Anamarie to stomach.

It was about that same time Miss Kate had a problem with her heart and Jericho started coming in to get kolaches for breakfast so Miss Kate wouldn’t have to cook. It turned into a weekly thing and she couldn’t bear to think about not seeing him on Tuesday morning. They talked about many things, but they shied away from the personal. There were times she wanted to tell him about her past just to see how he would react. She never had that much courage, though. One rejection in her life was enough.

Earlier when she’d touched his hand, she just wanted to wrap her hand around his. And then she’d realized what she’d done and she was embarrassed. A woman her age was embarrassed at touching a man. How pathetic was that? Enough to give her cold feet. Since her fiancé had jilted her over twenty years ago she hadn’t dated anyone. She was nervous as a teenager. And that was really pathetic.

Rico walked over to her and she quickly gathered her thoughts.

“The sheriff’s going to Wendy Miller’s house to check things out.”

“If he’s out this time in the morning, that means there’s something really wrong with Wendy. She would never let him outside this early.”

He glanced toward the boy. “Yeah. I’m taking him over to the sheriff’s office until we find out. If something has happened to his grandmother, there has to be a relative who will take him.”

“He’s so adorable. I’m sure someone will want him.” Rico reached down to gather the boy into his arms and she quickly added, “Take the quilt. He’s still asleep. Call me when you find out anything.”

He frowned. “I don’t have your number.”

What! All the time she’d known Jericho amd she’d never given him her phone number. How stupid was that? Then it hit her. Maybe she was like the rest of the people in this town. She was willing to talk to him, but she would never invite him into her home. She would prove to him that she wasn’t like everyone else.

She pulled his phone from his pocket and added her number and then reached for hers on the counter and added his to hers.

“Done. We should have done that a long time ago.”

He settled Dustin on his shoulder and headed for the door.

“Rico...”

He glanced at her. “Hmm?”

She wanted to say something, but words failed her. Then she thought of the boxed kolaches on the counter. “What about the kolaches for Rebel Ranch?”

“I’ll get Elias to pick them up.”

“Okay. Call me about Dustin.” As he went out the door, a deflated feeling came over her. After all these years, why hadn’t she given him her phone number? Was she afraid her mother would find out? Was she a hypocrite like everyone else in this town?

CHAPTER TWO

THE BAKERY WAS on the east corner across the street from the courthouse, facing the main entrance. The sheriff’s office and the jail were on the west side and connected to the courthouse by a covered walkway. Jericho walked instead of taking his truck. He called Elias on the way, telling him about the kolaches, the boy and that he would explain later.

It was after six in the morning and a steady line of people were going into the diner for breakfast. Another morning. Another day. Jericho looked down at the boy in his arms. But this one would be different.

He went through the sheriff’s office door, but no one was at the front desk so he continued on into the office. Bubba was at a desk writing something in a file.

“Hey, Rico, what have you got there?” Bubba was a big guy, tall as Jericho, but he weighed close to three hundred pounds. That never held Bubba back. There wasn’t a friendlier person in Horseshoe, Texas.

“Dustin Miller. He walked into the bakery about five thirty this morning hungry and dirty. The sheriff is checking on his grandmother.”

“What were you doing at the bakery that early?” There was an accusatory tone in his voice and Rico didn’t like it. It was so unlike Bubba. But when it came to family, the Wiznowskis always pulled together. For a moment it crossed his mind that Bubba might think Rico wasn’t good enough for his sister.

“I was picking up kolaches for the guys at Rebel Ranch. We go to work early, you know, and Anamarie always has them ready early.” Rico laid Dustin on one of the cots in a cell and straightened to face Bubba, trying to ignore that feeling in his gut at the steel bars. “Do you have a problem with that?”

Bubba held up his hands. “No, man, no. You’re taking this the wrong way.”

“Which way should I take it?”

“Well, you know, my mom is...”

“She doesn’t like me,” Rico finished the sentence for him.

Bubba nodded. “Yeah. She’s kind of out there—” he made waves with his hand “—when it comes to Anamarie.”

“Why is that? Or is it just with me?”

Bubba looked down at the floor and usually Rico wouldn’t say another word. He’d already fought all his battles and he wasn’t looking for another one. But this was about Anamarie and that was too important for him to walk away.

“You’re judging me, Bubba, and your family is judging me without knowing the facts. You have no idea why I was in prison. You just know that I was and automatically that puts me on the outside of your righteous family.”

“Come on, Rico, that’s not true. The Rebel family accepted you and they mean a lot to me. They have been my friends all my life and that makes you my friend.”

Rico shook his head. “Until you can accept me for me without the Rebels’ approval, you’re not my friend.”

“Come on, Rico.”

The sheriff came through the door and Rico walked out of the cell to talk to him. Some things were more important than the hypocrisy of the Wiznowski family.

“What did you find out?” he asked the sheriff, Wyatt Carson.

When Rico had first come to Horseshoe, he steered clear of the sheriff and his deputies. He just felt safer that way. But over the years Wyatt had begun to trust him and treated him as a person and not a convict. He appreciated that and today their relationship was based on trust, especially after rescuing the kids from the school before the bombing.

Wyatt removed his hat and sat in his chair. It squeaked from his weight. Wyatt had to be in his forties and he’d been sheriff for a long time. Everyone respected him, as did Rico.

Scooting forward, Wyatt asked, “I sensed a little tension when I came in. Is something going on with you and Bubba?”

Rico always tried to be honest and today he didn’t shy away from that. “He and Miss Doris object to my friendship with Anamarie.”

“Anamarie, huh? I didn’t see that one coming and—” he held up a hand “—I’m not getting involved. But give Bubba a chance. He’ll come around. That’s the type of guy he is.”

Rico didn’t get a chance to respond as Bubba shouted from somewhere in the jail, “Wyatt, I’m clocking out.”

“Okay,” Wyatt called back. “But hang tight. I might need you some more today.”

“Will do.”

Rico was through with small talk. He needed to know what had happened at Mrs. Miller’s.

“Wendy has passed away, probably night before last,” Wyatt said before Rico could ask anything.

“That means Dustin was alone for two nights and a day.”

“The funeral home is picking up the body and Stuart is over there getting all the information. I talked to Mrs. Waring, who lives next door, and she said Wendy had pneumonia and the doctor wanted to put her in the hospital, but she refused because she didn’t have anywhere to leave Dustin.”

“What kind of neighbor is she that she didn’t offer to help?”

Wyatt glanced at Rico. “She’s eighty-five years old and uses a walker. There’s no way she could handle a four-year-old.”

“Sorry, the thought of that little boy walking around during the night looking for food just gets to me.”

“Mrs. Waring also said that Dustin’s mother is still in prison for drug use. There is a sister, but as I recall Darlene and Connie are not on good terms. Connie didn’t take Dustin when Darlene went to prison, so I’m guessing she’s not going to want him now. I’ll leave that up to CPS.”

“A four-year-old couldn’t have been easy for Mrs. Miller.”

“She was fifty-two years old, Rico, but had a lot of health problems. She was a heavy smoker and had COPD and used an inhaler every day, so yeah it probably wasn’t easy.”

Another place. Another time. A great-grandmother had accepted a four-year-old into her life and it had changed that little boy forever. Would Dustin be that lucky?

“I have to call CPS to find a home for Dustin until they can locate the aunt or a relative who will take him.”

“They’ll put him in foster care.” Rico’s stomach clenched. The words created a bad taste in his mouth and he knew he had to do something. “Wyatt, can I ask a favor?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll take him until they find someone.”

Wyatt leaned back his chair. “Rico, that’s very admirable of you, but I have to be honest. CPS will do a thorough background check before they place Dustin in your care. And you know what that means.”

“My record.”

“Yeah.”

“My record was supposed to be expunged. Will I have to pay for it the rest of my life? I’m a model citizen and you know that.” Rico looked at his friend. “You would vouch for me, wouldn’t you? To keep Dustin from being put into the system?”

“Rico.” Wyatt sighed. “I’d trust you with my own kids, but this is CPS. They have rules and have to cross their t’s and dot their i’s. I’m sorry, that’s just the way it is.”

“Then why is there so much abuse and neglect in foster homes?”

Wyatt shrugged.

“I can offer Dustin a home for now. I never take any vacation and I know Miss Kate and Falcon will give me some days off. Dustin needs someone to be there for him. One-on-one. Not a household full of kids. I can help him through this. I’ve been through it.” He stared into the sheriff’s eyes. “Don’t let me down. Don’t let Dustin down.”

“Rico...”

A loud wail sounded from the jail cell and Rico bounded for the door. Dusty was sitting up crying at the top of his lungs. Mickey barked just as loud. Rico quickly gathered the howling boy into his arms and said, “Hey, hey, buddy. I’m here. Everything’s going to be okay.”

Dusty buried his face into Rico’s chest. “I want my grandma. I want my grandma.”

“You have to tell him,” Wyatt whispered, standing in the doorway.

“I know.”

“I can do it, if you’d rather.”

“No, I just need a few minutes.”

“I’m going to talk to CPS.”

He held Dusty a little tighter and the boy drifted off to sleep again. Rico couldn’t do this alone. He needed help. There was only one person he wanted with him. He fished his phone out of his pocket and sent a text to Anamarie:

I need help telling Dusty his grandmother has died. Do you have time?

In a second he got a text back: I’ll be right there.

The weight on his shoulders lifted a little.

Dusty stirred and looked up at Rico. “What’s your name?” he asked.

“My real name is Jericho, but everyone calls me Rico.”

Dustin touched the scar on Rico’s face. “How did you get that?”

“In a fight.”

“Did you win?”

“Yeah.” Sort of.

“Can you take me home now?”

“We need to talk first, buddy.”

“Why?”

Rico heard the front door open and soon Anamarie was in the cell. Her face was slightly flushed, as if she’d run there.

She sat beside them. “Hi, Dusty. Look what I brought you.” She handed him a sippy cup of milk.

“Thank you. I have to pay you for it.”

“No, no, you don’t. You’ve already paid me. Remember?”

Dusty sipped at the milk. “’Kay,” he mumbled.

Rico looked at Anamarie for guidance. He didn’t know how to start the conversation, but he knew he had to. Dusty took it out of his hands.

“I want my grandma.”

Rico’s arms wrapped around the boy and he struggled for words. The right words. “The sheriff checked on your grandmother and...she went home to Jesus.”

Dusty sat up, his dark eyes wide. “Without me?” he cried.

Clearly the boy misunderstood and Rico was going to have to say the words out loud. “Buddy, can you be brave for me?”

Dusty nodded, taking another sip of milk, his eyes on Rico.

He took a deep breath. “Your grandmother...died. That’s why you couldn’t wake her. She went to heaven to be with Jesus. Do you understand?”

“No!” Dusty shouted and threw the milk on the floor. “No!” Pitiful sounds erupted from his throat and then he laid his head on Rico’s chest and sobbed until Rico thought his heart would break. At that moment he realized he had never had the chance to cry for his own mother when she had died. But he’d cried for his great-grandmother like Dusty was crying now. That pain he would never forget.

Anamarie moved closer and stroked the boy’s hair. “It’s okay, sweetie. Cry all you want. Rico and I are here for you.”

“Rico,” Wyatt called from his office. “Can we talk a minute?”

“Sure.” With his thumb, he wiped a tear from Dusty’s cheek. “Stay with Anamarie. I’ll be right back.” He placed the boy in Anamarie’s lap and she cuddled him close. Dusty seemed content.

“I just got off the phone with the CPS worker for this area. At the moment she doesn’t have a foster home for the boy, but she said she would have one shortly just as soon as she could talk someone into it. All the foster homes are full.”

“And...” He was hoping the next part would be what he wanted to hear.

“I told her there was someone here who would take the boy and give him a temporary home. She asked a lot of questions about you and I told her all she wanted to know.”

“And...”

“She agreed to let you keep him temporarily, but she will be here at ten o’clock in the morning to visit with you and the boy at your home.”

“No problem.” The boulder on his chest eased. “Thank you, Wyatt.”

“You might want to call Miss Kate. The caseworker will be calling her for a character reference.”

“I don’t need to call Miss Kate. I trust her to tell the truth and I have nothing to hide.”

Wyatt seemed unsure as he shuffled papers on his desk. “I didn’t mention anything about your prison record. I’ll catch flak for that, but I’m willing to do it so the boy won’t have to go into a foster home until they find a relative. And I think you’re right. He needs to be with someone who cares about him.” The sheriff looked at him. “And I believe you do.”

“Yes, and I’ll do anything to keep a kid out of foster care.”

The sheriff eased back in his chair. “Sometimes the only place a kid has to go is foster homes, and some are really good. I sense you’ve had a bad experience with them. Would you like to talk about it?”

“No, but thanks for the offer.” Rico glanced toward the cell. “Can I take him home now?”

“Sure. Let’s see how Dustin feels about it.”

Before they could reach the cell, Stuart, the chief deputy, came through the front door. He had a duffel bag in his hand.

Stuart was born and raised in Horseshoe and was a dedicated police officer. “I brought some of the boy’s things,” he said.

“Good,” the sheriff replied. “Just leave it at my desk.” Then he whispered to Rico, “Don’t get too attached. They will find a home for him.”

Rico tried to remember that as Dusty practically leapt into his arms. “Can we go to my house now?”

Rico sat with Dusty on his lap and was glad Anamarie was there to give him support. “You can’t stay there by yourself, buddy.”

The boy went limp against him. “Oh.”

“Would you like to come home with me?”

Dusty raised up, his eyes bright. “My mommy’s gonna come get me.”

Rico was thrown for a moment. “What?”

“My grandma said she was sick and when she got better she would come and get me. She’s probably better now.”

Rico glanced at Wyatt, but he didn’t offer any advice. “Buddy, we’ll check on your mommy, but in the meantime you have to stay somewhere.”

The boy’s dark eyes grew thoughtful. “’Kay. I stay with you. Where do you live?”

“On a ranch.”

“Can Mickey come, too?”

“You bet.”

The little boy’s eyes brightened. “You got a horse?”

“Sure do.”

“Can I ride it?”

“You bet.”

“Can Ann-a-ma... I can’t say her name.”

Anamarie touched his cheek. “You can call me Ana.”

“Can Ana come, too?”

Rico looked into Anamarie’s blue eyes. “You bet.” He got to his feet, feeling a little unsure of what was ahead of him, but he could do no less.

“That’s so nice of you to take him.”

Rico placed Dustin on his feet. “Go tell the sheriff thank you for letting you stay with me. Then we’ll go.”

“’Kay.”

Rico needed a minute to talk to Anamarie. She picked up the sippy cup, which hadn’t broken or leaked onto the floor. “I might need your help. Are you available?”

She smiled one of her custom smiles. “You bet.”

They walked back to the bakery with Dusty between them. Mickey trailed behind. Rico carried the duffel bag and quilt over his shoulder, and thought this was a slice of heaven being together with Anamarie and Dusty. It was almost like a family. It was almost real. The almost kept him from thinking any further. Happy ever after wasn’t in his future. It never had been.

ANAMARIE WAVED GOODBYE and hurried into the bakery. People in line were waiting for kolaches. “Good morning,” she said to everyone.

Margie was at the counter and mouthed, “Sorry.” Anamarie thought it was about being late, but then she nodded toward the kitchen and she knew it was about something entirely different. Her mother was there.

All the wonderful feelings inside her vanished as she walked into the kitchen. Her mother’s gray hair stuck out in all directions as if she hadn’t taken time to comb it, and fury tightened every line on her sixty-seven-year-old face.

“Where have you been?” Her mother aimed the question at her like a dagger. “People are waiting to be served and there’s only Judy and Margie here. It is your job to run this bakery.”

Anamarie gritted her teeth and reached for her apron on a peg. Don’t react. Don’t react, she kept repeating to herself. “I’m well aware of my job description, but there was an unforeseen incident this morning that needed my attention. And it was more important than selling kolaches.”

“I’m sorry about Wendy. She was a good woman, but her grandson is none of your concern.”

Anamarie fingered the cotton of the apron in her hand and fought to keep words from spewing out. “A little boy walking around in the dark looking for food is everyone’s business. He didn’t know his grandmother had passed away. He only knew she wasn’t waking up. I went over to the jail to help tell him about his grandmother. If that offends you, then you have a problem.”

“You were with him. Don’t deny it.”

“If you mean Rico, yes, I was with him.”

“Bubba said he comes in here early before the store opens.”

Anamarie took a long breath. Thanks, Bubba. “Yes, he comes in early to pick up kolaches for the Rebel family.”

“Before six in the morning?”

“Yes.”

“And you let him in?”

Anamarie nodded, getting tired of this conversation, but she wasn’t going to lie to soothe her mother’s judgmental attitude. “We have a cup of coffee and talk. He’s a very nice man.”

“You know nothing about him.”

“I know everything that counts. He’s warm and caring and wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“I won’t have this, Anamarie.”

“Have what?”

“Have you getting involved with that man. He’s an ex-con. Have you forgotten?”

“No. I see him as the man who risked his life to save all the kids in this town without thinking about himself.”

“That was Elias. You’re fantasizing about this man.”

“Elias couldn’t get all those kids out by himself. Rico was right there with him and if you can’t see that, then I’m not talking to you anymore.”

“I don’t like your attitude. I own this bakery and you will do what I tell you. You will not let that man in this bakery before six. I’ll call Miss Kate about it.”

Anamarie waved a hand. “Call Miss Kate and you’ll find out how much the Rebel family loves Rico. Once you make that call the Rebel family will not come back to the bakery, and do you remember Rachel, your daughter Angie’s best friend? She’s married to Egan and they will not be back in here, either. Miss Kate has a lot of power in this town and your customer list will dwindle. So please make that call.”

Her mother’s eyes narrowed to a steely foreboding. “I forbid you to see this man. I will not have you getting involved with an ex-con. That’s my last word. You will not bring disgrace to our family.”

She turned to hang her apron on the peg and saw Rico standing in the doorway. He held the quilt she’d given him for Dusty in his hands. Without a word, he laid it on the counter and walked out.

No! No! No!

She ran after him but she wasn’t quick enough. She saw his truck leaving the parking lot. Not a sound could be heard as people stood there watching and waiting for their orders. Anamarie didn’t acknowledge anyone. She calmly walked back to the kitchen, seething.

The apron lay on the floor where she’d dropped it. She picked it up and hooked it over the peg. The moment she saw the hurt in his dark eyes she’d made a decision and she had to have the courage to follow through.

“It’s better he heard it this way.” Her mother went on as if nothing had happened. “There are a lot of men in this town who would go out with you. All you have to do is fix yourself up and lose some weight. You can find someone better than Jericho Johnson.”

The seething turned to a full-blown rage, which threatened to explode right into her mother’s face. But she was raised to respect her parents and she calmly reached for her purse and said. “As of this moment, I no longer work here. I quit. And I will not be coming back.”

“What are you talking about? You run this bakery.”

“But you own it, as you so rudely told me. Now run it.” Turning on her heel, she headed for the back door.

“Anamarie, come back here. Don’t you dare leave this bakery!”

Anamarie slammed the door so hard she was sure the customers at the front could feel it. She felt it, too. It was a release of all the anger inside her. But it would take a lot more than slamming a door to ease the pain in her.

For years she’d been on a treadmill of doing what her mother wanted and the sad part was she felt there wasn’t anything else out there for her but to become the old maid of Horseshoe, Texas.

No one is ever going to want you. Fix yourself up. Lose some weight.

She’d heard those words for years and the criticisms eventually got to her. She believed them. Rico showed her she was still young, vibrant and attractive. She saw it in his eyes every Tuesday morning. He teased her, laughed with her and made her feel things she’d thought had died long ago. For once in her life she wasn’t looking back or thinking the situation to death. There was only one option for her: she had to go forward to find herself, and to find the young girl she’d left behind with the heartache and the pain. And she had to embrace the woman she’d become to find the love she wanted. Because above all else she deserved it just like every other woman. And she saw her future in the dark, warm eyes of Jericho.

CHAPTER THREE

RICO DROVE STEADILY toward Rebel Ranch, trying to keep his thoughts at bay. He’d left this morning with hope and excitement in his chest. Now he was just numb with the words ex-con running through his brain. He knew Mrs. Wiznowski didn’t like him, but this was the first time he’d heard her say it and with such venom that it shook his stony composure.

It was a brutal awakening he hadn’t expected. He was letting himself dream about a life with Anamarie and he knew now that was never going to happen. The Wiznowskis were a tight-knit family and she would never go against them.

He’d never thought much about love until he came to live with the Rebel family. He’d loved his great-grandma. Familial love he was familiar with, but the man/woman thing eluded him. After what he’d been through, he never thought it would happen for him. He saw all the Rebel boys fall in love and get married. As he watched all that happiness, he began to yearn for something of his own. A family of his own.

He was afraid he would never be able to feel the emotion. Or even recognize it. Not many women wanted to spend time with a man who had a scar across the side of his face, wore a long ponytail and had been in jail. He was used to that, until he’d met the lady at the bakery. She smiled at him, treated him nicely and made him want to go back just to spend a few moments with her.

Then one day he went in late to the bakery while Anamarie was closing up. She quickly pulled the shades down and locked the door. He was confused and thought he should leave until she said she’d saved some kolaches for Pete, Egan’s dog. Then she offered him a glass of iced tea and they began to talk. As she was talking about her day, the rubber band around her topknot broke and her long hair had tumbled down around her. She’d laughed and immediately tried to put it back up, but he’d stopped her.

People tended to ignore her, but when he’d looked into her blue eyes that day, he received a jolt. The bright blue reminded him of the sky and what lay beyond. He figured God had checked out on him a long time ago, but that day he knew Anamarie was as close to heaven as he was ever going to get.

Love was that precarious thing all the Rebel boys talked about, but they had a hard time recognizing it. So he was surprised he could actually label his feelings: he loved her. Looking into her eyes, he saw it bright and clear. He had no idea how it had happened. He liked talking to her, being with her, but he never had the courage to tell her how he felt. And now he never would. Some things just weren’t meant to be.

He glanced back at Dusty who was sound asleep in the car seat. Luckily Rico had two car seats in the back. He kept Egan’s kids, Justin and Jordan, on date night.

He would weather this like all the other heartaches he’d been through. But he had to admit this cut a little deeper because it had taken a little piece of his heart.

ANAMARIE DROVE AROUND for a little while to cool down. If she went home, she was afraid her whole family would be there with their opinions of what she’d done. It was her decision and she wasn’t backing down now even if her family begged and pleaded, which she knew they would do. No one wanted to go in at three in the morning to make kolaches. Since her mother had gotten older, the responsibility had fallen onto Anamarie’s shoulders. There was only so much Anamarie was willing to take, though.

Riding around she realized what she was doing: avoiding a showdown. Time was up. She had to stand strong. She drove into the driveway of her home, her very own home. When Angie had come home from Temple with her daughter, Erin, she’d bought the house to keep their mother from controlling Angie’s and Erin’s every move, a decision that had infuriated their mother.

Later Angie had married Erin’s father, Hardy Hollister, and she’d put the house on the market. Anamarie had decided then it was time for her to move out of her parents’ home. Of course, her mother had fought it all the way and there was tension for several months until her mother had accepted it. It had been a lifesaver. She had her own space and peace and quiet.

Parking in the garage, she made sure to put the door down, and went inside to wait for the onslaught. It didn’t take long. Angie was the first to arrive, then the twins, Patsy and Peggy, and then Bubba. Her dad was the last to trail in.

Everyone talked at once like angry birds chirping in her face and Anamarie wanted to scream. She raised her hands and said, “Let me make this clear. I am not going back. Someone else will have to make the kolaches from now on. I made this decision and I’m not changing my mind.”

“Who’s gonna do the baking then?” Patsy asked.

“How about you?” Anamarie countered.

“Me! Most mornings I have to be at the shop by eight. There’s no way I’m going in to make kolaches. I didn’t like it when I had to do it and I’m not doing it now.”

“Don’t look at me,” Peggy said. “I have the same schedule as Patsy. And I do have a boyfriend, you know. I don’t want to spend my extra time in the bakery.”

Peggy was dating Stuart, the deputy. It was getting serious.

Everyone looked at Angie. “Oh, please.” Angie rolled her eyes. “I’m not leaving my family before three in the morning to make kolaches.”

Anamarie thought about her family and how the situation would affect them. She hated that she had a soft heart, but she was well aware of how her family used her.

Her eyes centered on Bubba. “Do you realize how hard it is on me when Margie doesn’t come into work? I have to do everything myself and it’s really stressful.”

Bubba shifted in his chair. “We were up late and she forgot to set the alarm clock. Sorry, sis.”

“And that’s okay?” She lifted an eyebrow, letting some of the anger show in her voice. “You’re supposed to be a responsible adult, but I don’t see much of it when you let your sister do double the work.”

“Come on, sis. You know you love that bakery.”

“That’s a cop out, Bubba.”

“Okay, I’ll do better.”

“I don’t care if you do better. It’s too late. I’m not going back.” She looked around at their anxious faces. “Has Mom told you why I’m not going back?”

“She said you left the bakery with no one there to help the customers and when she called you on it, you were very rude and walked out.” Patsy was very quick to quote their mother.

Anamarie shook her head. “Oh, no, that’s not what happened.” She told them about Dusty and Jericho. “She was upset because I was with Jericho and that I let Jericho into the bakery before six. She forbade me to see him or to let him into the bakery before opening. She said she owned it and I had to do what she wanted. That’s what happened.”

“You’re seeing Jericho?” Patsy high-fived Peggy. “Now that’s a story. When did this happen?”

“Don’t encourage her,” Bubba said. “Mom doesn’t want her seeing him and it’s causing trouble within the family.”

Anamarie laughed. “A typical momma’s boy. You won’t marry Margie because she’s been divorced and that’s frowned on by the Catholic Church and your momma. You’re weak, Bubba.”

“Wait a minute.” Bubba got to his feet with a scowl. “Why are you picking on me?”

“Because you’re controlled by your mother. We all are,” Anamarie told him. “Well, as of today, I’m not. I plan to see Jericho anytime I want and that means someone has to open the bakery and make the kolaches.”

Willard, their father, stood. “Anamarie, why don’t you come over to the house tonight and talk to your mom. Everyone else has jobs they need to go to and I’m sure you and your mother can work this out. You know she tends to say a lot of things she doesn’t mean.”

There it was. The guilt trip. This time it wasn’t working. “You mean you want me to apologize. Like always.”

“Well, you know how your mother is. She’s bullheaded and overreacts about everything. Take some time to cool off and come talk to your mom.”

She shook her head. “No. I’m not doing that this time. I’m serious.”

“That bakery is your life,” her father reminded her and that made her that much more determined.

“It shouldn’t be. I deserve a life just like everyone else. You have a son and a daughter who moved away because Mom tried to manipulate their lives. And they rarely come home. We all deserve our own lives. So this time, Mom has to be the one to give. She has to realize she can’t control us all the time. I’ve had enough.”

“Good heavens. This is going to be like a category five hurricane.” He picked up his baseball cap. “I guess I’ll go home and look for shelter.”

“Have you ever thought of telling her how you feel?” Anamarie asked.

“No, I gave up on that a long time ago. Peace is my goal every day and you kids are making it very hard by suddenly growing up.”

As he walked out the door, the room became quiet. The siblings dealt with their own thoughts and Anamarie thought she should just give up. It was like beating her head against a wall. She was doing nothing but hurting herself. Then again, she could see Jericho’s face and it gave her strength.

“Jericho, huh?” Patsy mused. “You go for the dark mysterious kind.”

Peggy slapped her arm. “This is serious. Stop kidding around.”

Patsy flung a hand toward Anamarie. “That’s why she’s leaving. Because of him, isn’t it?”

“Do you know what it’s like to hear every day that I can’t run the bakery as well as she can, that I’m slow and incompetent and talk too much to the customers? And if I would just fix myself up and lose some weight, I could attract a decent man? Every day it’s the same thing. Criticism after criticism. How in the world does anyone see that as love?”

“Anamarie...” Angie got up and sat on the arm of Anamarie’s chair.

“When Jericho first started coming in, I spoke to him because no one else would. I found that he’s a very nice man. He has the darkest, warmest eyes I’ve ever seen. Just looking into them I feel as if I’m sitting in front of a fire, all warm and cozy. He makes me feel good about myself and over the years we’ve grown closer. We talk a lot. He makes me laugh and he listens to what I have to say. He tells me I’m beautiful and I don’t need to lose any weight. He tells me I’m perfect the way I am. Do you know what it’s like to hear that after all the criticism?”

Again, there was silence in the room.

Anamarie cleared her throat. “I’m forty now and maybe I’m yearning for something I will never have, but I deserve a chance at love just like all of you. I know it’s going to be hard and I regret that.”

Angie rubbed her arm. “I’m sorry the responsibility for the bakery has landed on your shoulders. That’s been very inconsiderate of us. Yes, you deserve a life and we’ll all pitch in and help.”

“I’d appreciate that, and Margie knows how to make the kolaches. She just needs someone there to help her. Judy is there, but we’d need another person, too. It can work.”

“What about the family recipe Mom doesn’t want anyone to know?” Peggy asked.

“Margie knows it. She watches me every morning and that secret has been out for a lot of years. Mom just doesn’t know it.”

“Mom will insist on going into the bakery if you’re not there,” Bubba said. “Margie has a hard time working with her.”

“Welcome to my life,” Anamarie quipped.

“Well, that’s settled.” Patsy raised a hand. “Who’s in favor of Margie baking the kolaches and hiring someone to help her?”

Everyone raised a hand.

“But we need someone there today to help,” Peggy said.

“You guys work it out.” Anamarie got to her feet. “I have things to do.” She told them about Dusty and how she’d agreed to help.

“Have you told Jericho?” Patsy pressed.

A pain pierced her chest. “No. It’s not something we’ve talked about.”

“You’re scared,” Peggy said. “But if he’s the man you say he is, it shouldn’t be a problem.”

But it had always been a problem. The Wiznowski secret her mother wanted no one to know. But Anamarie carried it like a badge on her chest and every day it made her feel less of a woman. Less of a person. But no more. If she wanted a life with Jericho, she had to be honest and forthright and strong enough to handle his reaction.

After this morning, though, she had to wonder if he even wanted to see her.

RICO DROVE ACROSS the cattle guard to Rebel Ranch. It was one of the biggest ranches in Texas with miles and miles of ranchland. To the left was the big two-story log house John Rebel had built for his wife, Kate. About a hundred yards behind the house was a smaller log house which they called the homeplace. It had been the first Rebel home. Paxton and his wife, Remi, lived there now with their daughter, Annie. Not far from the house was an old white clapboard hosue that belonged to Grandpa Rebel. Grandpa didn’t stay there much. He had a room at Elias’s and slept there most of the time.

About half a mile to the right, through a coastal pasture filled with paint horses, was Quincy’s house where he lived with his wife, Jenny, and their two daughters. Their third child was due in two months and this time it was a boy. A lot of babies had been born on the ranch recently. Jude’s wife was expecting their third and it was a girl.

Jude, Phoenix and Egan had built homes for their families miles down Rebel Road. Falcon lived across the road from Miss Kate’s house. He was the oldest and took over as head of the family when John Rebel had died. He and his mother ran the ranch together. Falcon had taken over completely when Miss Kate had health problems, but she was fine now and nothing was done without her approval.

The barns, office and cow pens were on the right. When Rico’d first come here, he’d been in awe of the big ranch and didn’t know how he would fit in. But it had been easy as everyone accepted him without question. He’d learned to cowboy, herd and brand cattle, fix fences and bale hay. As much as he tried to stay to himself, the Rebels kept pulling him in, inviting him to family gatherings and on the holidays. After what Miss Kate had done for him, he would never refuse. But a part of him held back, not willing to believe they’d accepted him as one of the family.

Falcon and Miss Kate’s trucks were at the office. He picked up his cell and called to tell them about Dusty. As he’d expected, they said to take all the time he needed.

When he stopped at the bunkhouse, Dusty woke up and looked around. Rico thought he might cry but he didn’t. He pointed to the pasture where horses grazed. “Horse.”

“Yeah. Are you hungry?”

“No. But I like hot dogs. You got some?”

“You bet.” Rico got the boy out of the truck and carried him and the duffel bag into the house. Mickey trotted around looking at his new surroundings and occasionally barking at the horses.

“Toys!” Dusty shouted as they entered the bunkhouse, and ran to the toy box in the corner that Rico kept for Justin and Jordy. He grabbed a truck out of the box and pushed it around on the hardwood floor. Rico watched him for a moment. Dusty was happy for now, but he knew that wouldn’t last long.

Rico set the duffel bag on the sofa and found some pull-up pants and a T-shirt. “Time for bath.”

Dusty came without a murmur. The little boy was filthy from his hair to his shoes. Sand was even in his socks. Rico scrubbed his hair and had him clean in no time. After he was dressed, Dusty ran back to the toys. He played for a little while and fell asleep on the floor. Rico picked him up and carried him to the bed. Mickey jumped on the bed and curled up by the boy. Rico watched them for a moment and then went back to the living room and sank into his chair.

He held his head in his hands and wondered what he’d gotten himself into. Foster homes were a dirty term to him and he couldn’t let that little boy be put in one after losing his grandmother. Tomorrow CPS could take him away and do exactly that. Rico wouldn’t be able to stop it, but for today he would be there for Dusty.

He got up and started making the hot dogs. He needed something healthy for the kid, but all he had was chips. And milk. That was healthy. He’d have to go to the grocery store to get food for tonight. As he poured milk into a glass, Dusty cried out. Rico made a dive for the bedroom.

Dusty sat up crying, holding on to Mickey.

“Hey, hey, little buddy, what’s wrong?”

“I want my grandma.”

Rico gathered him into his arms to comfort him and then carried him into the living room. Sitting in his recliner, Rico patted Dusty’s back. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

Dusty wiped his face on Rico’s shirt and looked at him. Rico realized for the first time that the boy’s eyes were as dark as his.

“Where’s my grandma?”

“She’s in heaven.”

Dusty twisted his hands, thinking. “With Jesus?”

“Yes.”

“What she doing?”

Rico swallowed, trying to be patient. “She’s looking down at you and hoping you’re not sad. She wants you to be happy.”

Dusty buried his face against Rico’s chest.

To get the boy’s mind on something else, Rico said, “Are you hungry?”

“’Kay.”

Dusty ate a whole hot dog and drank a glass of milk. Rico also made Mickey a plate. Afterward Rico took Dusty back to the chair, trying to find a way to cheer him up.

“Were you scared walking around in the dark last night?”

“No.” Dusty shook his head. “I had Mickey. He’s a monster. He would protect me.”

Rico looked down at the sleeping dog that looked more like a timid rabbit. But it was what Dusty thought that mattered.

“What made you leave the house?”

“Mickey and me were hungry and we walked to the grocery store where Grandma gets food. It’s not far from our house and...I...I had my money in my pocket, but it was closed.” As he talked he twisted his hands and his eyes were dark and serious. “Then we went where we get all the good stuff...and...and...” He seemed to run out of words and rested his head on Rico’s chest once again. “Where’s my grandma?” he mumbled.

Rico rubbed his back. “I told you, buddy.”

“No!” Dusty’s eyes grew darker as he looked toward the windows and the sky. “I don’t mean there. I mean where is she now?”

Rico had no idea what he was talking about and was clueless about what to say. He wanted to console him and help him but his words were useless. Rubbing his back again, he said, “Tell me what you mean.”

“I have to say goodbye to Grandma.”

Rico searched for words once again. “Buddy...”

“When...when...” he twisted his hands in agitation “...when Mr. Kovar died, Grandma said we had to say goodbye. We...we...went to a place and Mr. Kovar was in a big box. Grandma lifted me up so I could say goodbye.” His bottom lip trembled. “I have to say goodbye to Grandma.”

Rico could do nothing but wrap his arms around the little boy who seemed more mature than a normal four-year-old. He didn’t understand what was happening. He just knew he had to say goodbye like his grandmother had taught him. Rico now wondered if he should take Dusty to the funeral home. Would it help him? Or would it traumatize him?

He needed a woman’s advice. He could call Miss Kate. She’d be more than willing to help, but another woman’s face was in his mind. Anamarie. She would know what to do and she could help Dusty with his grieving. But did he call her? Or just let her go?

Dusty slid from his lap. He pulled a tractor from the box and started pushing it around on the floor.

Rico reached for his phone in his pocket. He had her number. All he had to do was call. But it was a lot more complicated than that. His goal ever since he stepped out of a Huntsville prison was to live a quiet and peaceful life. If he called Anamarie, it would be anything but peaceful. Mrs. Wiznowski would make Anamarie’s life hell. And he would never do that to her. But then, there was Dusty, grieving, needing someone desperately. He shoved the phone back into his pocket just as a knock sounded at the door.

Dusty’s head jerked up.

“We’ve got company,” Rico said in as bright of a voice as he could manage. Bright wasn’t in his nature. It was probably Miss Kate or one of the Rebels. It might do Dusty good to see other people. He stepped over toys to get to the door and opened it.

Anamarie stood there.

Several strands of her blond hair had come loose from her topknot and curled around her flushed face. Her eyes were hesitant and filled with worry. He had never wanted to hurt her, but that’s exactly what had happened.

“May I come in?” Her anxiety showed in her voice and he had to be strong.

“I... I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

CHAPTER FOUR

“PLEASE, RICO. We need to talk.”

At the plea in her voice he opened the door wider.

“Ana.” When Dusty saw her, he ran to her and pointed to the toys. “Rico got toys.”

“I see,” she replied. “I didn’t know Rico still played with toys.”

Beneath his sun-browned skin she noticed a slight flush to his cheeks. She didn’t think it was possible to embarrass him.

He waved at the toys. “They’re for Egan’s kids. I keep them on date night.”

“Ah.” He loved kids. It was obvious by the handmade plywood toy box painted red and all the toys piled into it. Now it was going to be even harder to tell him what she needed to.

She sat on the sofa and Dusty placed a tractor in her lap. “See, you push this button and the tractor roars.” He pushed the button and tractor sounds filled the room. Dusty giggled.

“I see. That’s cool.” She handed him the toy and said, “Why don’t you play with it while I talk to Rico.”

“’Kay.”

As she followed Jericho to the kitchen area she looked around at his home. From the hardwood floors to the leather furniture, stainless steel appliances and granite countertops, everything was pristine and clean. She knew that Paxton and Phoenix used to live here with him and it was definitely a bachelor pad, except for the toy box.

There were stools pulled up to a bar and a table in the center of the kitchen. She took a chair at the table, as did Rico. She wasn’t sure how to start the conversation, but she’d never had a problem talking to him before.

“You don’t believe I think the same way as my mother, do you?”

“No. I know you don’t, but my relationship with you causes problems within your family and I don’t want to cause you that kind of stress. It’s best if we don’t see each other anymore.”

Her heart sank, but she wasn’t giving up. At her age, shyness and embarrassment shouldn’t affect her so much. She would be as bold and honest as possible. That was the only way they could have a good relationship.

“Why have you never asked me out on a date?”

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Because your mother wouldn’t like it and, again, I didn’t want to put you in an awkward situation.”

She clasped her hands in her lap. “Well, I’m asking you to go with me on a date to a nice restaurant where I can eat food that I don’t have to cook. And we can talk freely and be with each other.”

“Anamarie—”

“Why is it so important to you what my mother thinks? She’s judgmental. Angie had a hard time when Erin found out that Hardy was her biological father because my mother disapproved strongly. But Angie lived her life the way she wanted and I’m going to do the same. So, do we have a date?”

He tapped his fingers on the wood table and then looked at her. “Yes.”

She relaxed a little bit.

“Your mother’s opinion matters because it affects you.”

“I can take care of myself, Rico. I just don’t want our relationship to end, and at our ages we should be able to say and do what we want within reason.”

“I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

She smiled at him and Rico glanced over at Dusty. “The date will have to wait until they find a home for Dusty.”

“That’s fine with me. I’m here to help.”

“What about the bakery?”

Her eyes locked with his. “I quit. I’ve had enough and I’m not going back.”

“What?” One dark eyebrow almost disappeared into his hairline. “How are you going to make a living?”

“I’m very frugal and I’ve saved most of my salary. I can afford to take some time to help you with Dusty until I decide what I’m going to do. That starts with our first date.” Her hands were numb as she stared at the salt and pepper shakers and napkin holder on the table. There were little blue flowers on them and she focused on that. “I want to tell you some things about myself.”

“You don’t have to tell me anything. I know everything I need to know.”

She shook her head. “No. I need to tell you.”

“Anamarie, there’s nothing you could say that would change the way I feel about you.” The warmth of his eyes said she didn’t need to say a thing, but for her own peace of mind she had to.

“Just listen. Okay?”

He nodded.

“In high school I had a relationship with Greg Holmes. We fell in love and he asked me to marry him. He gave me a ring and as soon as we graduated we were going to get married. We made all kinds of plans. He was going to take over his dad’s plumbing company and I was going to take over the bakery. But then I got sick.”

She took a gulp of air. “When I had my period, I started bleeding and it wouldn’t stop. I was in a lot of pain. It went on for weeks till my mom took me to the doctor. After a lot of tests, they discovered I had endometriosis, and they also found tumors on my ovaries. They did a biopsy and they were malignant and had to come out. The only solution was a partial hysterectomy.” She paused and looked directly at him. “I’ll never be able to have children.”

The sadness on his face gave her the courage to continue. “Greg said it didn’t matter. We’d get married anyway and adopt. Then rumors started to spread around town about Greg and Charlotte Carter. Finally, he came to see me and said he couldn’t go through with the wedding. That he wanted children of his own. He was sorry, but that was the way he felt. I was devastated and depressed for a long time. I just poured myself into work. My only thought was that I would be the old maid of Horseshoe, Texas.”

He reached across the table for her hand and held it between his warm palms. “No. You’re a beautiful vibrant woman and Greg is a jerk.”

His hands were rough. She could feel the calluses that indicated how hard he worked. At the understanding in his eyes, she kept talking. “It made me feel less of a woman.” He made to speak and she stopped him with a raised hand. “I know it doesn’t matter to you. You don’t even have to tell me that. Somehow I know deep in my heart that you would never hurt me.”

He stroked the back of her hand. “Do you ever see Greg?”

“Oh, sure. He comes into the bakery all the time with his three girls and Charlotte. At first I avoided them, but now it doesn’t even matter. They’re just another group of customers.”

He continued to stroke her hand and she’d never felt anything so good. “Let’s see if I got this right. That’s the reason your mother is so protective of you?”

“Yes. She doesn’t want anyone to know I can’t have children. It somehow diminishes me in her sight and she thinks it would in other people’s eyes, too.”

“Wow. You have some mother, but in a way I guess I can see that she’s trying to keep you from getting hurt again.”

“Oh, please.” She rolled her eyes.

Rico’s phone buzzed, interrupting them. He looked at his phone and said, “It’s Wyatt. Maybe they’ve found a relative to take Dusty.” He got up to answer it and she followed.

“Hey, Wyatt.” Rico talked for a minute and then clicked off. “Wyatt wants me to bring Dusty into the office. The CPS worker will be there and she’s going to talk to Dustin’s mother in prison and let Dusty talk to her, too.”

“Then we better go.”

He stared at her for a moment and she wasn’t sure what to read in his expression. “I said I would help you with him.”

“Are you sure? Because, you know, we’re going to have to give him back.”

She did something she was never bold enough to do. She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her face on his solid chest. “I can handle it.” She never met anyone who was so concerned about her feelings or about her. She got lost in the shuffle of her family. But with Rico, she came first. She felt it and she needed that. She needed him.

And she hoped he needed her, too.

THEY WENT IN Rico’s truck and Dusty was full of questions.

“Why do we have to go back there?”

“We just do. Play with your truck and we’ll be there in a few minutes.” Rico glanced at Anamarie and he couldn’t believe all the things she’d shared with him. He wanted to show her just how much of a woman she really was.

In the sheriff’s office, he was introduced to Ms. Henshaw, the social worker. Dusty stayed with Anamarie in the outer office.

Ms. Henshaw adjusted her wire-rimmed glasses with the tip of her forefinger. “The sheriff failed to mention a big part of your past.”

He met her eyes squarely. “If you’re talking about prison, that’s exactly what it is. My past.”

“Still, I don’t appreciate being given half-truths.”

“We all want what’s best for this little boy,” Wyatt said. “So let’s concentrate on that. I did what was best at the time and I’m sticking to my decision and I really don’t care what CPS thinks, Ms. Henshaw.”

“You don’t have to get snippy.”

“Then let’s focus on what happens next.”

Ms. Henshaw glanced at the watch on her arm. “The warden should be calling right about this time.” As the words left her mouth, Wyatt’s phone rang. He put it on speakerphone.

“Sheriff Carson.”

“Sheriff, this is Della Riley, the warden at the woman’s prison. I have Darlene Miller in my office and she would like to speak to her son.”

“He’ll be here in a second.”

“Is this the sheriff?” A softer female voice came on the line.

“Yes, it is. I suppose the warden told you that your mother has passed away.”

“Yes, I’ve been crying for hours. Where’s my baby?”

Loud voices outside the door interrupted the conversation. Suddenly the door swung open and a blonde in a nice dress and heels stood in the doorway. She removed her sunglasses; bracelets jangled as she did. “I want to speak to Sheriff Carson.”

“Is my sister there?” Darlene asked.

Wyatt got to his feet. “Yes, I suppose she is.”

“Don’t let her take my baby. I don’t want her to have him.”

The woman held out her hand to Wyatt and he shook it. “I’m Connie Grimes, Darlene’s sister, and I’m here to help with my nephew.”

“No!” Darlene shouted through the phone. “I don’t want her to have him. She’s wanted everything I’ve ever had and she’s not getting Dustin!”

Rico didn’t know what to think, but the conversation soon escalated into a shouting match until Wyatt put a stop to it.

There was quiet for a brief moment and then the social worker spoke to Darlene. “We have to find a home for Dustin. Your sister is willing...”

“No. She doesn’t even like kids. That’s why she doesn’t have any of her own. She’s mean and cruel. No, I refuse to let her have Dustin.”

“Darlene.” Ms. Henshaw sighed. “Dustin needs a home until you get out of prison.”

“Who’s keeping him now?”

Ms. Henshaw glanced at Rico. “Jericho Johnson.”

“Who? I never heard of him. Is he from Horseshoe?”

Wyatt jumped back into the conversation. “Rico, as everyone calls him, works on Rebel Ranch. He’s part of the Rebel family and he was the one who found Dusty looking for food and brought him to my office. He and Dusty have formed a connection.”

“Is Mr. Johnson there?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m right here and Dusty is outside the office.”

“I’d like to talk to my son.”

Rico went into the squad room, picked up Dusty and carried him into the sheriff’s office. Anamarie waited for them. “He’s here.”

“Baby, it’s Mommy.”

Dustin’s eyes flew wide. “Mommy, are you coming to get me? Grandma went to be with Jesus.”

There was a long pause on the line and then they heard sniffling. “No, baby, I can’t come right now. I still need more time, but I want to find a nice place for you to stay until I can get there.”

“I can stay with Rico. He got horses and he got toys. I stay with Rico.”

“Okay, baby, I needed to hear your voice. I love you and I’ll see you soon.”

“I love you, too, Mommy.”

Rico took the boy to Anamarie and went back into the office. Connie was in full tirade. “You’ve always been stubborn thinking of yourself instead of others. Think of your son for once.”

“Why do you want my son? You told Mom he should be in foster care.”

“You needed to be taught a lesson, but what was I thinking? You never learn, not even when we were little. You defied Mom and Dad and did exactly what you wanted.”

There was another long pause as they waited for Darlene to speak.

“Yeah, because you tattled on me so many times. Even when we were in school you tattled to teachers and got me in trouble. You ruined my whole school experience with your jealousy. You took a lot of things from me, but you will never take my son.”

Darlene seemed to take a breath, and then asked, “Mr. Johnson?”

Rico leaned against the doorjamb, but at the sound of his name he stood up straight. “Yes, ma’am?”

“Do you live on Rebel Ranch?”

“Yes.”

“I remember how beautiful it was and I wanted to live in that big house with all those handsome cowboys. I want Dusty to be somewhere where he’s happy. He wants to stay with you. Do you think you could keep him until I get out? My lawyer said I could probably get out in three months.”

He saw this coming when Dusty had said he wanted to stay with Rico, but he didn’t really believe Darlene would want him to take the boy. His heart was going to get involved, especially when he would have to give the boy back. So many questions rolled around in his head, but there was only one answer. For him. For Dusty.

“Sheriff,” Darlene called. “Do you vouch for Mr. Johnson?”

“Yes, ma’am, I do. He’s a good man. He was one of the guys who helped get our kids out of the gym when the bombs went off in our school.”

“I remember reading about that. I was just glad my Dustin wasn’t in school yet.”

There was a short pause and then, “Ms. Henshaw, I’d like for Mr. Johnson to take Dusty until I can get him. That is, if he’s willing.”

“You’re so stupid!” Connie shouted to the phone. “You’ve always been stupid!”

Wyatt motioned for Stuart to get the woman out of his office, which he did. As Connie passed Rico, he got a whiff of cigarette smoke. She was a smoker. Even expensive perfume couldn’t disguise that.

Wyatt took his seat. “Okay, Darlene, let’s get this straight. You want Mr. Johnson to take care of Dusty until you can get out of prison.”

“I do, but he never said anything. Dustin gets government assistance and Mr. Johnson can get that.”

Rico cleared his throat. “I’ll keep him, but I don’t want any money.”

“Now I know you’re a good guy.

“The warden is indicating that I need to get off the phone. Take good care of my baby, Mr. Johnson. I trust you and when I get out this time I’m going to stay clean.”

“For Dustin’s sake, I hope you do.”

The line went dead and the three people left in the room stared at each other. Ms. Henshaw was the first to speak. “Mr. Johnson, I’ll be at your home tomorrow morning at nine to see where Dustin will be living. He’s in school for most of the day and I expect you to get him there and pick him up.”

“No problem. But nine o’clock in the morning isn’t going to work. I have to get Dustin to school and go to work. I can meet you about six in the evening.”

“I’ll rearrange my schedule to make sure this little boy is placed where he will be happy and safe.” Ms. Henshaw gathered her briefcase and purse and left the room.

Wyatt glanced at Rico. “You work long hours on the ranch. How are you going to make this work?”

“I know a pretty lady who’s going to help me.” He tried hard not to smile.

“Anamarie. You won’t find anyone nicer than her and I hope it works out for you.”

“Thanks, Wyatt.” He paused for a moment. “What about arrangements for Wendy Miller?”

Wyatt shrugged. “Fred from the funeral home called and the body will be ready tomorrow morning. He’s wondering how he’s going to get his money. I told him he would have first claim after her estate is settled. There won’t be much. The sale of the house will more than pay for her funeral and maybe some left over for Dustin.”

“Maybe it would give Darlene a new start.”

“We can hope. But with the sister in town I don’t know what’s going to happen.” Wyatt waved a hand. “Anyway, that’s another story. I’ll have Stuart go through Mrs. Miller’s papers. Maybe he can find a will and then everything will be simple.”

“Yeah, right.” He heard Wyatt laugh as he left the room.

It was refreshing to see Anamarie’s pretty face, even if she was frowning.

“No, no, no!” Dusty shouted, burying his face in Anamarie’s chest as Connie attempted to talk to him.

“I’m your aunt,” Connie kept on. “I just want to get to know you.”

“Nooo!” Dusty wailed.

“No means no, Ms. Grimes,” Rico said with a bite in his voice.

“Now listen here—”

Dusty scrambled from Anamarie’s lap and ran to Rico. With Dusty in his arms, they walked out of the office.

“I don’t want to go with her!” Dusty cried.

Rico patted his back. “It’s okay, buddy. You’re going home with me...and Anamarie.” He looked over at her and her smile was everything he wanted to see.

ANAMARIE MARVELED AT Rico’s gentle nature with Dusty. He eased all of the little boy’s fears. And somehow he eased hers, too.

He slid into the driver’s seat, his hands on the steering wheel. “It’s getting late so how about if we go to Temple and have supper?”

“Sounds great,” she said with a slight smile. “I really don’t mind cooking. I don’t know why I said that.”

“No cooking. Right, Dusty?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Where do you want to go?” Rico asked her.

She had hoped that he would choose a place, but he probably didn’t go out all that much and didn’t know of any restaurants in Temple.

“Pizza,” Dusty shouted from the back seat.

“Anamarie gets to choose.”

“Why?” Dustin wanted to know.

“Because she’s a girl and we always let girls go first.”

“Oh.” Clearly Dusty was baffled by the answer.

“There’s a nice Italian restaurant that I used to go to with Angie and Rachel and it has a kiddie menu. It was Angie’s way of getting me out of the bakery and the food was delicious.”

“Pizza it is then.”

Excitement ran through her veins at the light in his dark eyes; her first date with a dark, mysterious stranger. Except he wasn’t a stranger. He was the man of her dreams and the man she wanted to share her life with. They’d talked enough and it was time to take their relationship further. It was long overdue.

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