Lonestar Angel

  She smiled and nodded, coming forward. “I brought Frost some sugar.” She dug into the pocket of her jeans and produced two cubes covered with lint.

  Her black hair was in cornrows tied with pink bows. Eden loved messing with the girls’ hair, and they seemed to enjoy it as well. India’s pink top had chocolate on it, and a smear of chocolate frosting dotted the corner of her mouth. Her jeans were getting too short, and he made a mental note to ask Eden to take her shopping.

  He leaned on his tool and smiled. “The pitchfork is a little big for you, but you can feed Bluebird some hay when you’re done spoiling Frost.”

  The little girl offered the sugar to the young gelding, then scampered back to where Clay stood. She seized a handful of hay, then held it up to Bluebird, Betsy’s horse.

  “Are you enjoying yourself here?” Clay asked.

  India nodded. “I wish I could stay here forever with you and Miss Eden. I don’t want to go back.” She sounded forlorn.

  The little girl had endeared herself to him in the past two weeks. Always cheerful, always smiling. But sometimes he caught her by herself with a pensive air and tear-filled eyes. She would never tell him the problem, though. He’d often wished she were Brianna, though her nutmeg skin made it impossible. His heart called her his, though.

  She shuddered and clasped her arms around herself. “The fire was scary,” she said. “I hate fire.”

  “I’m sure you do, honey. I’m sorry about your parents.”

  She hopped down from her perch on the fence where she’d been petting Bluebird. Two puppies raced to flop in her lap. “I can’t remember my mama’s voice anymore.” Her voice was choked. “I never wanted to forget it.”

  He put his hand on her head. “I’m sure she loved you very much.”

  “Do you think she’s looking down from heaven and watching me? The preacher says she is.”

  They were killed in a meth lab explosion. What were the chances that her parents were Christians? “Did your mama take you to church?”

  India nodded. “We went every Sunday. Sometimes at night too. And Mama went to a Bible study across the street.”

  “How about your daddy?”

  “I didn’t see him much. He was always working. Sometimes he gave me horsey rides on his back.” Her eyes were moist when she glanced up at him. “About heaven?”

  “I think your mommy is there waiting for you.”

  “Mama threw my dad out, you know. She said he was doing bad things in the basement. I guess he was. He came back when she was at work. When she got back, she yelled at him and he slammed the door to the basement. Then she took me to bed and went back downstairs. The boom woke me up.”

  “How did you get out?” he asked.

  “An angel,” she said simply, her tone grave.

  “An angel?”

  She nodded. “He was dressed in a firefighter outfit, but when he carried me out, he disappeared and I never saw him again.”

  He could see she believed it. And who was he to say it wasn’t real? When did he start thinking God would never do something miraculous for him? He brought about miracles every day. He’d saved Brianna when they all thought she was dead. What the kidnapper meant for evil, God had redeemed. Though danger was still out there somewhere, Clay had to trust God was going to see them through this. He’d done it so far.

  “Mr. Clay?” India plucked at his shirtsleeve. “You have a funny look on your face.”

  “I was just thinking about how God takes care of things for us.”

  “Mama always said that too. And he let me come here. I prayed and prayed for him to take me out of that house.”

  “What’s happening there, honey?” he asked, making sure to gentle his voice.

  She was quiet a minute, her small face serious as she worked out what to say. He could see the indecision on her face, in the twist of her mouth and the darting of her gaze from him to the ground.

  “There’s five of us orphans,” she said finally. “Cal and Wanda take their two kids to do fun stuff and leave us home. We usually have soup or peanut butter sandwiches for dinner.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “The older kids say they just took us in for the money.”

  Clay didn’t doubt it. There were great foster parents out there but some stinkers too. The good and the bad mixed up together, as in all of life. He wanted to do something for this little girl. Did she have to go back to that situation? Could Rick make a recommendation that she be moved?

  He’d never expected to be so embroiled in the lives of these kids.

  Her burns had faded to darkened skin. Eden had avoided talking about anything personal with Clay. She didn’t want to rush into anything, the way she had crashed into their marriage. Everything in her wanted to take his declaration of love at face value, but she hadn’t been able to handle his frequent absences. What made her think she could endure them any more easily now?

  India held Eden’s left hand and Lacie held her right. Clay herded the other girls behind them as they hurried toward the store. Madeline wore her princess costume over her jeans. The girls stepped over the weeds sprouting through the cracks in the sidewalk, chanting, “Step on a crack, break your mother’s back.”

  The morbid song brought an image of her birth mother’s face to Eden. What was she going to do about her mother’s desire to have a relationship? There was no animosity in Eden’s heart, just caution. She didn’t have the energy to focus on her mother when all she wanted to do was find Brianna and rebuild her life.

  India yanked on the store door, and the cool rush of air hitting Eden’s face brought her out of her thoughts. “Who’s ready to buy jeans?” she asked.

  “Me!” Madeline said, shuffling behind her in the plastic heels that went with her costume. “I don’t want ones with holes. Can we get some with lace?”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” Clay said, keeping a straight face.

  Eden smiled and led the way to the stacks of girls’ jeans. She pulled out sizes ranging from fives to sevens. “Let’s try some on.”

  “I want red ones,” Lacie said.

  “How about a red top? I don’t think they make red jeans,” Eden said.

  “Right here are some,” the child said, pointing to a stack of colored jeans.

  Sure enough, there were red ones in her size. Eden shrugged and draped two pairs over her arm. “Whatever you want,” she said.

  She found jeans for all the girls, then realized Clay was missing. When he reappeared, the smug expression on his face told her she wasn’t going to like the reason he’d disappeared.

  “What have you been up to?” she asked, narrowing her gaze at him.

  His grin widened. “Who, me?”

  Then she noticed the jeans on his arm. “Oh no.”

  “Oh yes. You need some too. And some boots.” He held up what looked suspiciously like snakeskin boots.

  Katie clapped her hands and jumped up and down. “Yeah, we can match!”

  “I don’t think so,” Eden said. But when the girls’ pleading faces turned her way, she began to relent. Surely she was adult enough not to care what people thought of her anymore. Who said she had to maintain that old image? She could re-create herself here. With Clay and the girls, she could be herself and not worry that someone might think she was poor white trash.

  “It’s hard to fit jeans, and I don’t have time to try on half a dozen pair,” she said.

  Clay’s smiled turned even more smug. “These will fit. Trust me.” He held them out. She held his warm gaze as she took them. “If they don’t fit, we’ll forget them. I found some with lace for Madeline.” He handed a pair of jeans with lace at the hem and on the pockets to the little girl, who squealed and clutched them to her chest.

  Eden smiled and ushered the girls into the dressing room. The way he’d gone to the trouble to find them for her touched her in ways she hadn’t expected. Clay surprised her at every turn.

  After she got the girls fitted, she tried on her jeans. They fit pe
rfectly. The boots fit too. She looked taller and even more slender in the dark jeans and heeled boots. All she needed was a saddle and he’d be putting her in the rodeo.

  “I want a style show,” Clay called from outside the dressing room. “You all have been in there long enough.”

  Her cheeks flared with heat when she stepped out of the dressing room and saw the appreciation in his eyes.

  “Told you they’d fit,” he said. “You look sensational.”

  A curtsy wasn’t appropriate in these clothes, but she did one anyway. “Thank you. They’re comfortable.”

  “Look at me, Mr. Clay,” Katie said. She did a handspring across the floor. “Mine are stretchy.”

  “Very nice,” Clay said. He complimented each girl in turn.

  Eden marveled at his ability to say the most encouraging thing to each child. He was a born daddy.

  25

  A TRIP TO A BUFFALO RANCH. WHOSE IDEA WAS THIS? EDEN GESTURED TO THE GIRLS TO board the van. Zeke and Della already had their charges in the back and settled for the drive. Eden’s girls were squealing and jumping up and down with excitement as she herded them onto the bus. Rita had come along as well. She wanted to research a buffalo ranch for one of her romance novels.

  Allie waved to Eden from the porch. “Phone call,” Allie said.

  Eden stepped back off the van a moment and motioned for Clay to take over. Peering at the caller ID, she saw it was her mother’s number. “Hello, Mom.”

  “Eden, dear, I wanted to check and see if I might stop by and see you.”

  “You’re still in the area?”

  “We’ve spent the past several nights here in Alpine. I . . . I wanted to give you a chance to adjust before I called again.”

  Eden found she wanted to see her mother, if only to find out if there was any chance that Hector Santiago wasn’t her father. “We are going to Marathon today, to a buffalo ranch. It shouldn’t be more than about thirty minutes from you.” She gave her mother directions, then hung up and climbed into the van.

  “Who was that?” Clay’s eyes were shadowed. Neither of them had slept well last night because the girls were unusually wound up from their shopping adventure. “My mother. She’s still in Alpine. She and Omar are meeting us at the ranch.”

  The bus was ready to leave, so there was no more time for a private conversation. As they traveled to the ranch, Eden thought about how to ask what she needed to know. Her mother was bound to be offended if Eden openly doubted her mother could know the identity of her father. The house had been a merry-go-round of men. How could Nancy be certain? Eden needed to know more.

  “There they are!” Katie shouted, hopping up and down in her seat.

  The buffalo grazed in a fenced meadow. The vanload of kids erupted into squeals. The animals were bigger than Eden expected. They lifted shaggy heads as the vehicle pulled into the driveway and stopped. Clay and Zeke guided the children out for the tour. Pen and paper in hand, Rita trailed behind taking notes.

  “Are you all right?” Della asked Eden as she guided the last of her kids to the van door. “You look rather pale today. Are your burns still bothering you?”

  “Not bad today. It was just a rough night. I could have taken another day before dealing with a buffalo tour.”

  “I’ve been here before. It’s rather tame but the girls will enjoy it.”

  Della followed Eden out of the van, and they joined their husbands and the children at the fence. The girls were on the first rung of the fence, but Clay made them get down as the owner came toward them.

  “They’re not really buffalo,” India said, tossing her black braids. “They’re bison. Buffalo are water buffalo.”

  “How’d you know that?” Eden asked.

  “I looked it up.”

  Though the little girl was only a year older than the others, she seemed much more mature. Eden hugged her and stared at the shaggy beasts.

  “They’re big and scary,” Madeline said. “I don’t like them.”

  Paige sneezed. “I think I’m ’llergic,” she whispered. “Can I wait in the van?”

  “You’re not allergic. It will be fun.” Eden pointed toward the sign that explained facts about the buffalo. Or bison, as India had insisted. One of the buffalo watched the girls climbing on the fence. The beast lowered its head and pawed. Eden frowned. “I think that one doesn’t like your red shirt, Lacie. Come over here with me.”

  A man waved and joined them. As he began to tell them about the tour, Eden saw a car pull into the drive.

  “They’re here,” she whispered to Clay. “Can you handle the girls by yourself?”

  “Yeah. You’ll be okay with her?”

  “Of course. I’ll catch up as soon as I can. Watch Lacie. That animal doesn’t like the red.” She walked down the drive to meet the car.

  Her mother climbed out of the Lexus with a smile. She wore a royal-blue sundress that showed her figure to advantage. Omar joined his wife before Eden reached them.

  Her mother offered her cheek to Eden. The powder-scented skin brought back too many memories to Eden, and she stepped away as quickly as she could without causing offense.

  “Eden, my dear, your face is red and blotchy. Rather unattractive. Did you forget your makeup this morning?”

  Eden’s cheeks heated. “I was in a fire recently, Mom.”

  Her mother gasped. “Fire? As in a building on fire?”

  “The shed.” Eden told her what happened.

  Omar put his hand on Eden’s shoulder. “Are you saying someone tried to kill you?”

  “Yes. And would have succeeded if not for Clay.”

  Her mother went pale. “Oh my dear, I think I need to sit down.”

  She always did that. Made everything about her. Eden realized some things would never change even if her mother wanted them to. There was an outdoor patio area on the other side of the drive, and Eden pointed it out. Omar guided his wife to a chair, then went to get her a soda from a vending machine by the building.

  “I talked to my father,” Eden said as soon as he was out of earshot. “So did Clay.”

  “Your father? Hector?”

  Eden nodded and held her mother’s gaze. “He expressed doubts that he was my father.”

  “Of course he did. What did you expect?” Her mother dismissed Eden’s concerns with an airy wave of her hand.

  “Mother, I was eight when you left. I remember all the men. How do you know which one was my father?”

  Angry spots of red bloomed in her mother’s cheeks, but she looked down at her hands for a moment and the color faded. “I suppose I deserve that,” she said quietly. She rubbed her hand over her forehead. “I wasn’t always the woman you remember, Eden.”

  And yet, as far back as she could remember, Nancy had been exactly that woman. On Eden’s fourth birthday, she’d been sent to her friend’s house. She vaguely remembered her mother coming to get her smelling of an unpleasant odor. She later came to know that stench as beer.

  When she didn’t answer, her mother heaved another sigh. “I was a young girl, impressionable and naive, when I met your father. I didn’t know he was married until you were on the way. He was my first real love. And I suppose I never really got over him. I went through a lot of men trying.”

  For the first time, Eden understood what it might have been like for her mother. “How did you meet him?”

  “At a party.” She glanced away. “I was young.”

  “So he knew you hadn’t been with anyone else.”

  Her mother met her gaze. “He knew. Why did you call him?”

  “I believe he was behind my daughter’s kidnapping.”

  Her mother gasped. “He was behind Brianna’s disappearance?”

  Eden stared at her mother. “How do you know my daughter’s name?”

  “Well, I . . . I—you told me the other day.”

  Had she? Eden didn’t think so.

  Her mother smiled, though it was feeble. “What did your father say?”
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  “Not much. I’m going to try to see him.” Eden only said this to see her reaction, and she wasn’t surprised when her mother’s eyes brightened.

  “I’d like to say hello,” her mother said. “When are you meeting him?”

  “I’m not sure,” Eden said. One thing she was certain of—her mother’s interest was more than casual.

  Clay joined them and draped his arm around Eden’s shoulders. “What’s going on over here?” he asked, his tone jocular.

  “We were just talking about Brianna,” Eden’s mother said quickly. “Do you have a picture?”

  “Sure.” Clay dug a USB drive out of his pocket. It was still attached to the digital picture album. “There are some on there.”

  Her mother fiddled with the frame, then frowned. “These look like men in a jungle.”

  “Let me see.” Clay took it. “You’re in the wrong album.” He pressed a few buttons, then handed it back. “There she is when she was a month old.”

  Eden watched her mother’s face soften and wished she could believe the older woman really cared.

  “I think I’ll sleep like the dead tonight,” Clay said, yawning. “Neither of us slept worth a darn last night.”

  Eden had been quiet since the trip to the buffalo ranch. The expression on her face had warned him not to probe until she was ready to talk. Not that there had been much time. The girls had been wild all evening. All they’d talked about was the trip to see the buffalo.

  She barely mm-hmmed in response as she got into bed and rolled onto her side with her back facing him. He shut out the light, but the faint moonlight through the window and the green glow from the clock let him see her silhouette. What would she do if he put his arm around her waist, spoon fashion? With every day that passed, he knew he never wanted her to leave him again. Wooing her would take all of his concentration.

  Her voice spoke out of the darkness. “Clay?”

  “I’m awake.” He rolled onto his side, facing her. A mere six inches separated them.

  “How much longer is your leave?”

  Where had that come from? “Five weeks.”

  “Then what? Do you know where you’ll be sent?”