All Roads Lead to Texas Page 8

  At five o’clock, they were all sitting on the front porch waiting. Even though Adam and Brit argued, Callie knew that he wouldn’t disappoint her. Callie was watching for the patrol car, but a white truck drove up. Wade got out dressed in jeans and boots, no badge or gun. He seemed like an ordinary cowboy, except Wade was not ordinary. He was about the best-looking thing she’d ever seen. A real Texan. A real cowboy.

  Brit ran to meet him, asking questions faster than Wade could answer them. The others followed more slowly. Wade waved to Odell and Bubba Joe and they climbed into the truck.

  It was a four-door truck and Callie sat in the front, the kids in the back. Adam slumped in a corner, clearly determined not to enjoy this.

  “Can Fred come, Mr. Sheriff?” Mary Beth asked, Miss Winnie held tight in one arm.

  Wade looked at Callie and she noticed his eyes were dark and warm. It was like seeing into the darkness and feeling the warmth and not being afraid. At that moment, she realized she wasn’t afraid of Wade. He stimulated her senses and…

  She blinked, bringing herself back to the conversation. “No, sweetie. Fred has to stay in his bowl.”

  “I don’t think Fred likes horses,” Mary Beth said, and Callie knew she was nervous and scared.

  She smiled at her. “It’s okay, sweetie. We’re just going to watch. Buckle up.”

  Wade started the truck and they drove off. “You’re just going to watch, huh?”

  “Yes.”

  “Have you ever ridden?”

  “Yes. In college.”

  “Good, then you’ll enjoy it again.”

  “This is Brit’s day and I’ll be happy to watch.”

  A crooked smile curved his lips and she couldn’t help but smile back. She was at ease and happy and hoped this day turned out as good as she felt.

  Brit sat by the window and pointed out horses and cows as they rode, as if they couldn’t see them. It was the first time they’d been on this road and Callie soaked up the view. Barbed-wire fences enclosed ranches and farms and the scene was spectacular with its rolling hills dotted with magnificent oaks and foliage. It was all wrapped in a serene, peaceful package of wide-open spaces and incredible vistas.

  “What’s that?” Brit asked pointing at a field.

  “It’s a goat, stupid,” Adam said.

  “Callie, he said it again. You have to punish him or he has to say he’s sorry.”

  Callie closed her eyes briefly, not wanting to have this conversation in front of Wade.

  “No, Callie,” Mary Beth cried. “Don’t punish him. He’s sorry, aren’t you, Adam?”

  “Yeah,” Adam mumbled, and Callie was grateful Mary Beth had taken it out of her hands. Being a parent wasn’t easy even if it was fictional.

  “How’s your deputy?” she asked to change the subject.

  “I gave him the day off to recuperate and my secretary’s husband, who works part-time, is on duty.”

  “Are you on call twenty-four hours a day?”

  “Just about.”

  It was probably the way he wanted it. If he was busy, he couldn’t think about his son. After John’s and Glynis’s deaths, she just wanted to be with the children—that was the only thing that gave her any peace. But she supposed Wade didn’t have anyone. That made her very sad.

  They crossed a cattle guard and saw a wrought-iron sign that read Spring Creek Ranch. White-faced red and black cattle grazed contentedly beneath oaks trees on both sides.

  “We run a cow-and-calf operation here,” Wade said.

  “What does that mean?”

  “We buy quality bulls, some Angus, Brangus or Herefords. We breed them to a herd that is also a mixture. When the calves are weaned, they go to the auction barn. A good cow produces a calf every year. Some heifers we save to replace the older cows.”

  “So this is a working ranch?”

  “Yep.”

  “Is this it, Mr. Sheriff?” Brit asked.

  “Yes, Brit. This is the ranch, and you can call me Wade if it’s okay with your mom.” He glanced at Callie.

  “Sure,” she answered.

  “Where’s the horses?” Brit wanted to know.

  “At the barn. Be patient.”

  “I don’t think I can.”

  Wade stopped the truck and a Mexican rode up on a horse. They climbed out. Brit stared up at the horse with her mouth open. The Mexican dismounted and handed the reins to Wade.

  Wade rubbed the horse’s face. “Brit, this is Fancy. See? She has a white mane and three stocking feet—that’s why we call her that. She’s very pretty and gentle.” He held out his hand to Brit. “Come and meet her.”

  Brit seemed turned to stone and Callie put her arm around her. “Have you changed you mind?” Brit had a habit of doing that.

  Brit shook her head, the hat bobbing on her head.

  “Are you sure?” Callie tightened the string under her chin.

  Brit nodded.

  Wade led the horse forward and stopped a few inches from Brit. “Touch her. She loves to be rubbed.”

  The Mexican came forward and handed Wade some carrots.

  “This is Poncho,” Wade introduced him. “He takes care of the horses and horses love carrots, don’t they, Poncho?”

  “Sí, Mr. Wade.”

  Wade broke a piece off and gave it to Fancy. She munched away. Then Wade placed a small carrot in Brit’s hand. “Feed her. It’s easy.”

  Brit held out the carrot and Fancy took it. Brit turned to Callie, her eyes shining like headlights. “Fancy ate it.”

  “Yes, she did.” Callie was excited, too. She didn’t think Brit was ever going to make a move toward the horse.

  Within minutes, Wade had her petting the animal and then he placed her in the saddle and swung up behind her. He slowly guided the horse around the pasture and soon Brit was reining the horse herself. If Brit’s eyes got any brighter, there would be no need for stars tonight.

  Two men rode up to the barn. The older man dismounted and walked over to Wade. Callie noticed that he limped.

  “What are these people doing here? And what’s that kid doing on that horse?”

  “I’m letting her ride, so be nice, Pop.”

  “This ain’t no damn riding farm. They can go over to the Ritters’ for that. I want them off this property.”

  Callie knew this had to be Wade’s father and she also knew it was time to leave.

  She hurried Adam and Mary Beth to the truck and went to get Brit, who came running toward her. Wade and his father were having words and Callie got into the truck with Brit, not wanting to hear their conversation.

  Wade soon joined her and they drove away in silence.

  IT TOOK A MOMENT for Wade to calm down. He’d had many arguments with Jock but this one was uncalled for. It was the last straw.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “My dad’s going through a rough time. He’s more angry at me than you.” That didn’t explain a whole lot, but he hoped Callie understood. Hell, he didn’t understand how one man could have so much bitterness inside him.

  “He’s a mean old man,” Mary Beth said.

  “Did you see me ride, Callie?” Brit broke the tension and her busy chatter filled the cab.

  As Brit relayed how well she could ride to Adam and Mary Beth, Wade whispered in a low voice to Callie. “I really am sorry. My dad’s never gotten over the death of my son or the failure of the consortium where he lost all his life savings.”

  “I heard about that in town and it seems there are a lot of people who are against all the newcomers. Ryan told me about his father, the senator.”

  “There’s been a lot of heartache in Homestead and the old-timers can’t get past all the broken friendships and backroom deals.”

  “Being on the Home Free Committee pits you against your father.”

  “Yeah. My father’s used to being a powerful man. In the old days, he and Clint controlled this town. But things have changed and now they’re adversaries.”

  “How sad.�
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  He was impressed with her insight. She understood what he couldn’t even put into words.

  “Please understand that my father’s attitude has nothing to do with you personally.”

  “He just hates everybody.”

  He nodded. “But there’s nice people here, too.” He pointed at a nearby ranch. “That’s Ethan Ritter’s place. He and his wife, Kayla, run a therapeutic riding school. Kayla is also one of the new landowners. She’s started a vineyard and it’s doing very well. She has a daughter and they’ve adopted two more children. They’re about Brit’s age.”

  “I’d like to meet them one day.”

  “I’m sure you will.”

  AS THEY DROVE UP to Callie’s house, she stared in horror. Her new picket fence was again lying on the grass and all the windows on the left side were broken. When the truck stopped, she jumped out and ran to the house.

  “Callie,” Wade shouted. “Come back here.”

  But she kept running. She paused as she reached the front door. Someone had sprayed red paint across the outer wall as a welcome message.

  Wade grabbed her before she could go in. “Stay here until I check this out.” In a minute, he was back and his face was angry. “Someone’s trashed the house.”

  “Who? Who would do this?” Her hands trembled and the fear she’d managed to dampen was now returning full force. Had Nigel found them? Had he done this?

  Wade took her in his arms. “I don’t know, but I’ll find out.”

  Callie leaned against him, feeling his strength, his warmth and it was good to lean on someone else for a change. She breathed in his masculine scent and it bolstered her, sustained her to face what lay ahead. Suddenly she wanted to tell him who she was.

  He stroked her hair and she closed her eyes, getting lost in the feeling of his gentle touch.

  “Ready to see the inside?”

  “Where are the kids?” She drew back and wiped away an errant tear.

  “I told them to stay in the truck. Do you want them to get out?”

  “Yes. They’re probably scared.”

  “I’ll sort this out.” He softly kissed her and the fear in her disappeared for that brief moment. She let herself feel the joy of his caress, an intimate brush of his masculine lips against hers with a hint of pleasures yet to come.

  But worries hammered away at her. What if Nigel had done this? No, that was insane. He would have called the FBI and had her arrested. There was no need to do anything else to get what he wanted—the kids. With all of the doubts that plagued her, she desperately needed a friend—a friend she could trust.

  She looked into Wade’s eyes and saw his concern and compassion, reaffirming her belief that he was a man she could trust. Figuring out men had never been one of her strong suits, though, so she had to go solely on a gut feeling and the way her heart raced when he looked at her.

  Callie took a deep breath and braced herself. “I have to tell you something.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  “CALLIE.”

  She turned to see her brother and sisters standing behind her, fear on their faces. They bolted for her and she picked up Mary Beth and held her tight. Brit and Adam clung to her waist.

  “What happened?” Adam mumbled into her blouse.

  “Someone has vandalized the place,” Wade answered.

  “Is he here, Callie?” Mary Beth cried into her shoulder.

  “Is he?”

  Callie stroked her hair, feeling her insides quiver. Mary Beth was talking about Nigel—they were all thinking about Nigel. Callie had to reassure them. “No, sweetie. No one’s here.”

  They walked inside and Callie inhaled sharply. Their things were thrown all over the place and their sleeping bags had been sprayed with the same red paint as the front of the house. Jagged pieces of glass from the windows littered the bedroom floors.

  Callie gasped at the sight and set Mary Beth on her feet. Clearly someone did not want them here. But who?

  Mary Beth ran to the goldfish bowl that miraculously had not been turned over. “Fred’s okay. He didn’t hurt him.”

  Suddenly Callie felt drained. All the hard work they’d done had now been undone. She’d never felt more alone than she did at that moment. How could she keep this up? Everything was going against her.

  Adam slipped his hand into hers. “We’ll fix it up again.”

  That tiny voice of hope, and the faith they had in her, gave her strength, then she glanced into Wade’s worried eyes and the despair quickly vanished. He cared about them. He would help.

  “You can’t stay here, so gather some clothes and let’s go. You’re staying at my place.”

  “We can’t do that,” Callie said. “Your father doesn’t want us there. I noticed a motel on the outskirts of town and we’ll stay there.”

  “You’re not staying in that crappy place. There’s plenty of room at the ranch and I’ll handle my dad.”

  “Wade…”

  “Get your clothes.” His voice was firm and Callie gave in because she didn’t really have another option. She didn’t want to bother Miranda.

  “While you’re getting your clothes, I’ll call June Bug and get him over here to board up everything until I find out who did this.”

  Callie didn’t argue. She grabbed their clothes and threw them into a suitcase, then they loaded up again in the truck—this time they took Fred. Wade went by his office to talk to the deputy on duty and soon they were headed back to Spring Creek Ranch.

  On the ride, no one said much and Callie was numb, wondering what she was going to do. She’d signed a contract to stay here and she’d keep her word. She wouldn’t run, but so many emotions were urging her to do just that. Especially her fear. But her top priority was the kids and their safety. That’s why she was going back to face Jock Montgomery—something that wasn’t on her to-do list. But she trusted Wade.

  She hadn’t had a chance to tell him. Now it was only a matter of time. He had to know the truth about her. She was a wanted criminal. What would he do? Oddly, she didn’t have any fears about that and she knew something good was happening between them.

  DRIVING UP TO THE DOUBLE-CAR garage, Wade said, “Wait here. I have to talk to my father first.”

  “Wade…”

  “Just wait.”

  With that, he hurried into the house. Jock was bent over his plate at the kitchen table, nibbling on the supper Yolanda had left him.

  “You get rid of those freeloaders?”

  Wade clamped his jaw tight and placed his hands flat on the table, knowing there was only one way to deal with Jock—to be as hard-hearted as he was. “Pop, listen to me. Mrs. Austin’s house was vandalized and she has no place to stay. I told her she and the kids could stay here.”

  Jock’s fork fell onto his plate with a clatter. “Over my dead body.”

  Wade straightened. “Okay, Pop. You’re forcing my hand. This is my house, my land and I say they stay.”

  “You gonna throw that in my face, are you?”

  “I don’t want to, but nothing else gets through to you.” The five hundred acres was his mother’s inheritance from her family and she’d put it in Wade’s name before Jock had had all his financial problems. Everything Jock had owned had gone into the consortium.

  “Fine, I’ll leave then.” Jock got to his feet.

  “Suit yourself, but I’m only doing what you’ve taught me all my life. You taught me to care for people, to help them in times of need. There are three kids outside who need a place to sleep. I’m not turning them away, because I had a father who believed that every child should be cared for and loved.”

  “That father died four years ago.” Jock hobbled past him, and down the hall to his bedroom. The door slammed.

  Wade waited, expecting Jock to come out with a bag and leave. But the door stayed close. He finally walked to the door and knocked.

  “Pop, all I’m asking is for you to be civil.”

  No response. Wade didn’t know exactly wha
t he was expecting, but his father was never going to change. He’d been hurt too deeply.

  He thought of calling Miranda. He knew she’d be glad to have them, and he could call Buddy. He had room, too. Buddy was known for taking anyone in who needed help. It would make things a lot easier on Wade, but for some reason he didn’t make the calls. He drew a deep breath and went to get Callie and the kids.

  WADE SHOWED THEM to the guest bedroom. “It’s a queen-size bed and should be big enough for you and the girls,” he said. “There’s a sofa bed in the den that Adam can use.”

  “I’m not leaving my sisters.” His chin jutted out with stubborn pride.

  “Okay,” Wade said. “There’s a cot out in the garage. I’ll bring it in and you can sleep in here, too.”

  “Thank you,” Callie replied.

  They were busy the next hour getting sleeping arrangements ready. Wade made sandwiches for supper and they ate without a word. Callie helped the girls with their bath then gave Adam the bathroom. Tucking the girls in, she wondered where Wade’s father was. Tomorrow she would have to make other arrangements.

  Soon the lights were out and they settled in for the night.

  “I’m scared, Callie,” Mary Beth whispered. “What if I wet the bed?”

  “Then I’ll clean it up and put on fresh sheets.”

  “But that mean old man lives here.” Mary Beth wasn’t convinced.

  Callie pulled her a little closer. “It’s okay, sweetie. I’m right here.”

  “’Kay.” Mary Beth snuggled against her, Miss Winnie tight in one arm.

  “Do you think Nigel found us?” Adam asked into the silence.

  “No,” Callie answered. “If he knew where we were, I’d be in jail. We’re safe here, so go to sleep.”

  “But that mean old man lives here,” Mary Beth pointed out again.

  “I don’t think he’s so mean.” Callie was trying to alleviate their fears when in reality she knew nothing about Jock Montgomery. “He just needs a little company.”