The Texan's Return Read online

  “I ran into Rod Bowers today at the grocery store,” she said. “While I was there trying to figure out the best way to stretch my paycheck. I don’t know if you remember, but he and my stepfather, Aaron, were good friends. Anyway, he confronted me about something he’d heard. Gossip. Rumors. You know how it can be around here.”

  Whatever he’d thought she’d come to say, he hadn’t expected this. Still, he nodded and waited for her to continue.

  “He heard I was taking care of your father, and he took exception to it. Considering how he was helping support my family and all.”

  “What?” He reared back, though not enough to let her go. “How is that any of his concern?”

  “That’s what I said.” She heaved a sigh. “I told him where I worked was none of his business. He insisted it was. Turns out he’s been giving my mother three hundred dollars a month to help out. For nearly the entire ten years. Can you guess what she did with that money?”

  Closing his eyes, he swore. “I hope you set Rod straight.”

  “Oh, I did.” Anger and pain mingled in her voice. “Believe me, I did. I told him if he wanted to help our family out, not to give any more money to Mom.”

  Mac for sure knew he didn’t like the idea of Rod Bowers thinking his money gave him the right to tell Hailey what to do. He opened his mouth to say so, and then changed his mind. Clearly, Hailey had taken care of that misconception herself.

  “On top of that, I got home and found out another teenage girl is missing,” Hailey continued. “She’s one of Tara’s little friends. Emily McNair. She’s been over my house several times. I’m hoping she’s just run away or shopping or doing some typical, careless, fourteen-year-old stunt. Because the alternative—”

  “Isn’t acceptable,” he finished for her. With one kick of his foot, he started the swing moving, bringing back memories of the hours they’d spent here, doing exactly this. Back then, he’d battled the urge to kiss her, contenting himself with small touches—her hair, the curve of her cheek, her hand.

  And now, a decade letter, he realized nothing had changed on that front.

  “Does Gus know?” she asked, breaking his train of thought. “About the missing girl?”

  “I don’t think so. I found him asleep with the TV on when the story aired, so I doubt it.” He debated his next words, and then decided the hell with it, because they needed to be said. “You know, more people in town might give you a hard time about working to take care of my father. It could get ugly.”

  She moved her head in a small nod. “I know. But it’s really none of their business.”

  “That won’t stop them. I remember, believe me.”

  She regarded him steadily, curiosity lighting up her face. “What do you mean, you remember? Remember what?”

  Though he hated to dredge up the ancient past, he figured she already knew and just needed to be reminded. “After my dad was arrested, my mother and I became outcasts within the hour. No one would speak to us or sell us anything or even wait on us. Not at the gas station or the convenience store and the café.” He made a sound that was supposed to be a humorless laugh but came out more like a chuff of pain. “It got so bad someone threw a brick through our window. Mom worried I’d be attacked or our house would be set on fire. That’s why we snuck out and left in the middle of the night.”

  Hailey stared, her expression stunned. “I...I didn’t know. I thought...” She looked down at her hands.

  Cupping her chin, he raised her face to make her look at him. “You thought what?”

  “I was seventeen.” She swallowed hard. “I’d just lost my sister. My mother howled with pain, and I had three young kids to shield. When you disappeared without even saying goodbye, I thought that was your way of breaking up.”

  “My mother made me promise not to call you. She was terrified that someone would find out where we’d gone and follow us. But I left you a note explaining everything. That should have helped, right?”

  “A note.” Her frown told him she’d never seen it. “Where did you leave it?”

  Again he cursed, low and furious. “I gave it to your stepdad. He promised to make sure you got it.”

  Another betrayal. “He ran off a few days after you did. He left Mom and the twins and Eli without even a note. He’s never touched base, not on their birthdays or Christmas or anything.”

  “I’m guessing he doesn’t pay child support either.”

  “Nope. Despite contacting the Texas Attorney General’s office, we haven’t been able to track him down to collect a single dime in child support.”

  He could understand her bitterness. She’d been trying to take care of her entire family since she’d been seventeen years old, with no help from anyone. And there was nothing, not one damn thing, he could do to make things right.

  They continued to swing in companionable silence. He felt a glow of warmth when she snuggled closer and put her head on his shoulder.

  “I didn’t know,” she finally said, her voice low. “About what happened to you, about any of it. There was too much going on, too much pain and craziness and tears. I feel like I owe you an apology for not being there for you.”

  His chest felt tight, the bone-deep ache mingled with wonder and shock. “Hailey, you can’t take care of everybody. You could barely take care of yourself. I didn’t expect you to help me. If anything, I wanted to figure out a way to help you. Don’t ever apologize for that. Ever.”

  Head still on his shoulder, she cut her eyes up at him. One corner of her mouth quirked in the beginning of a smile. “I guess it’s all water under the bridge now, isn’t it?”

  Lost in the softness of her gaze, he struggled to formulate a reply. Before he could, her phone rang. “It’s Tara,” she said, sitting up straight.

  He listened while she spoke with her sister, hoping she hadn’t called to give them the worst kind of news.

  “Really?” Hailey sounded upbeat. “That’s fantastic. Thanks so much for letting me know. Yes, I’ll be back soon. No, there are leftovers in the fridge for dinner. Just finish your homework, okay?”

  When she hung up, she shoved her phone back into her pocket before looking at him. “Tara’s friend Emily has been found,” she said, grinning with joy. “Alive.”

  And then, she reached up, pulled him close and kissed the hell out of him.

  * * *

  Celebratory kiss. That was what Hailey told herself all the way home. Certainly, she’d been fighting the urge to touch him, eerily reminiscent of her teenage self. But it had felt good to unburden herself to him, and as they’d shared truths, they’d had that same click of connection as before.

  Sure, her mother’s betrayal for ten long years would sting for the foreseeable future. It hurt, knowing how hard Hailey had struggled to keep food on the table and the kids clothed, knowing that all along June could have helped. And, yes, her mother still needed help, still needed to want to get it. But little Emily hadn’t been murdered, and that happy news went a long way in balancing out the rotten beginning to the day.

  That, and the way she and Mac still came together with such passionate ease.

  She thought of what her younger siblings had said. To them, she didn’t seem happy. Maybe they were right, but she couldn’t honestly say she considered herself unhappy. More like existing, coasting along on day-to-day life, doing what needed to be done to keep everyone safe.

  Including herself. Since losing Mac—and the life she’d once known—she’d locked her heart away deep inside, ensuring it wouldn’t get broken again. Sadly, she hadn’t even realized it until Mac’s return. The kids had pegged it perfectly—she felt as if she’d come alive again.

  Still, there was too much to consider before allowing herself to rush headfirst into a thing with Mac. Her life no longer belonged only to her. Tom, Tara and Eli depended on
her. She couldn’t make rash choices that might endanger the lifestyle she worked so hard to ensure they had.

  Despite her pragmatic thoughts, that night she went to bed with longing for Mac filling her heart.

  The next morning, everything returned to normal. The mad rush to get the kids up, make sure they were clean and dressed, and eating breakfast. She helped them pack their lunches, herded them all out to the car and took them to school.

  When she returned home from chauffeuring children, Hailey always made herself a cup of coffee—her first of the day—and carried it out into the backyard to drink before leaving to go to work over at Mac’s. Whenever possible, she tried to take a small slice of her day for herself before heading out to the Morrison farm.

  Her mother still slept, not unusual, even though June hadn’t gone out last night. No doubt when Hailey went to tidy up her mother’s room later in the afternoon, she’d find an empty wine bottle or two. Or worse, rum, gin, vodka or scotch.

  The rumble of a motorcycle making its way down the driveway alerted Hailey of the arrival of company. Hopefully, not some new “friend” her mother had made at a bar in town coming over to visit. June had done this before, stayed in for the night and gotten bored or drunk or both, and started making calls inviting people over.

  The last time this had happened, every single one of the five people who’d shown up at the front door had been drunk—at eight thirty in the morning. Luckily, the kids had been in school and hadn’t witnessed the fistfight that had broken out when Hailey had turned them away. She’d had to call the police, who’d shown up and had to cart most of the invitees to jail. Hailey had barely gotten June into her bedroom and closed the door. They couldn’t afford bail money.

  She only hoped this wasn’t going to be a repeat of that. She didn’t want to be late for work.

  Resigned, Hailey set down her coffee cup and headed out front to intercept whoever before he woke her mom.

  As she stepped out the front door, the motorcycle pulled up. Gleaming and black, with high chrome handlebars and an intricate painted design on the tank, it brought the word wicked to mind. The bike’s rider wore a helmet, but she recognized the wide width of his shoulders and his tanned, muscular arms.

  Mac. Her heart did a complete somersault in her chest.

  He cut off the engine, the rumble’s abrupt stilling startling in its silence. She waited while he removed the helmet, her blood singing through her veins.

  “Mornin’,” he drawled, grinning at her.

  Friends, she reminded herself, even as her stomach did a flip-flop. “Good morning. When did you get a—”

  “Harley? I’ve had her a couple years now. She’s been where all my spare time and money have gone.” He cocked his head, looking dangerous and sexy. “Want to go for a ride? I can take you to work if you want. You can wear my helmet.”

  “Which would mean you’d go without? No thanks. I’d rather you were safe.”

  He studied her, his gray eyes shuttered. “Another time, then? I have a spare helmet at home.”

  About to automatically decline, she made herself reconsider. Maybe every once in a while she should try something new, let herself be bold and daring and adventurous. A motorcycle ride might be the best possible place to start.

  “Sure,” she answered, smiling at him. “I’d really like that.”

  He blinked, which let her know she’d surprised him. “Great!” Once he’d climbed off the bike, he stopped a few feet from her, his gaze intense. “I need your help.”

  Friends. “Of course,” she responded. “What’s going on?”

  “I need the police to reopen your sister’s murder case.” His expression softened. “I know we talked about this before, I get that it’s all in the past, but with this latest murder, there’s a chance I can get my father exonerated before he dies.”

  Of anything he might have asked... But then what had she expected? He’d always maintained his father’s innocence. “Why?” Her voice came out much smaller than she would have liked. “Why dredge up something so painful?”

  Instead of answering right away, he put his arm around her and pulled her close. She kept herself rigid, resisting him, but he paid this no mind. He hugged her. Once, she would have melted into the comfort of his arms. Now, all she could think about was ulterior motive. How could one be friends in a situation like that?

  “I can’t,” she began, pushing him away and herself out of his arms. “All that will do is bring everything up again. The kids were so young then—they don’t remember much, if anything, of that time. My mother...” Swallowing, she glanced back at the house before forcing herself to continue. “She’s become an alcoholic. You don’t know what making her relive her daughter’s death would do to her.”

  “No one would be reliving anything. There wouldn’t be any court hearing or testimony or any of that. I just want the police to reopen the investigation. My father was arrested on circumstantial evidence. No DNA, no proof.” His voice caught, and he stopped to clear his throat.

  Her heart ached for him—for both of them—in fact, for everyone whose lives had been destroyed by the murder. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

  “What harm could it do?” He moved closer, towering over her. Once, his height had made her feel safe. Now she only noticed how he blocked the sun.

  “If they again find all evidence leads to my father,” he continued, “then nothing will have changed. But if they learn that maybe someone else might have been the killer, can’t you see what such a thing would mean? If someone else murdered your sister, that person has gone free. Until now, when for whatever reason they were compelled to kill again.”

  She looked from him to her house, unable to keep from wondering how different her life might have been if Brenda hadn’t died. Or if Mac’s father hadn’t been the killer. Now, it was too late. For her mother, for her. But not for Mac. Or Gus.

  “I’ll talk to the police,” she said abruptly. “I’ll ask them to reopen the case. But that’s all. No one else can know. No press, no gossip, none of it.”

  Chapter 8

  Hailey crossed her arms as she finished her statement, mentally daring him to agree to her terms.

  “You got it.” He smiled then, his eyes warm. “Thank you, Hailey. I’ll need you to come up to the police station with me next time Dolores is with my dad.”

  Before she could respond, the front door flew open, and her mother came out. Wearing a badly wrinkled T-shirt and faded jeans, she squinted at the sunlight before sauntering over toward them.

  “Have you been holding out on me?” she demanded, batting her lashes at Mac before taking Hailey’s arm. “When did you get a boyfriend? You know how much I like bikers. Introduce me.”

  Oh, crud. Hailey shifted uneasily, her heart in her throat. If her mother realized who Mac actually was, all hell would break loose.

  Mac stepped forward, grabbing June’s hand and shaking it. “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

  Frowning, June studied him. Hailey knew how much she hated being called ma’am and hoped she was focusing on that instead of trying to figure out why he seemed so familiar.

  No such luck.

  “You!” Snatching her hand away, June glared. “You’ve got balls coming around here.”

  From the way Mac’s mouth quirked, Hailey knew he was fighting not to laugh. “Those I do have, yes, ma’am.”

  Heck, if the situation hadn’t had the potential to explode, Hailey might have laughed, too. She looked down instead.

  “What do you want?” June demanded. “How dare you come sniffing around my daughter after all this time?”

  “It’s okay. He’s my boss, sort of. And we’re friends, Mom.” Putting her arm around her mother’s slender shoulders, Hailey tried to diffuse things.

  But June was having no
ne of it. Her bloodshot eyes widened. “You’re back in town, and now there’s been another girl murdered,” she rasped, taking a step back. “Hailey, get away from him.”

  Hailey didn’t move. “It’s okay. Mac didn’t kill anyone.”

  “You don’t know that. Like father, like son.”

  If anything, June’s words drove Mac’s earlier point home. Clearing his father’s name would change everything. Even if she wasn’t sure she believed in Gus’s innocence, she had to at least get the police to try. If they proved he’d killed Brenda, once and for all, then that would be that. And if they found otherwise...then a good man had been sent to prison for a crime he hadn’t committed.

  When no one responded, June huffed and crossed her arms. “You need to get off my property.”

  “Mom,” Hailey protested. “Maybe you didn’t hear me. He’s my boss. I work for him now.”

  A look of confusion clouded June’s face, making Hailey wonder if her mother even remembered. Then the older woman’s expression cleared, the bewilderment replaced again with anger. “I don’t care. You’re not on the clock. He needs to go.”

  Mac’s easy smile made Hailey’s chest hurt. “Sure thing. I’m leaving.” He met Hailey’s gaze. “About that motorcycle ride? Tomorrow morning, same time? I can take you to work and then bring you home in time to pick up the kids at school.”

  “Sure.” She held his gaze, avoiding looking at her mother. “As long as you bring that second helmet.”

  “Will do.” Grabbing his own helmet, he put it on before climbing on the bike. The engine roared to life. Inclining his head in a nod of farewell, he took off. Hailey stood looking after him until the sound had completely faded.

  Then, and only then, did she reluctantly turn to face her mother. As she’d expected, June’s furious expression left no doubt as to how she felt about Mac’s visit.

  “Please.” Hailey held up her hand to forestall a torrent of invective. “Not now. Mac’s a good man. You can’t hold him responsible for what happened.”