Lonestar Angel

by Colleen Coble

  3

  EDEN’S HEELS SANK INTO THE SANDY SOIL AS SHE FOLLOWED ALLIE ACROSS THE SCRUBBY yard. She should have worn flats with her skirt, but when she’d chosen the outfit back in Indiana, she’d needed the extra inches for courage when facing Clay. A pungent odor hung in the air. Mesquite? Sage?

  She sneezed and nearly stumbled, but Clay caught her hand and she righted herself. He tried to clutch her fingers but she pulled them free. His touch still ignited something inside her. The sensation was nothing she was prepared to examine. Not now, not ever.

  Allie pointed to the newer building. “The other bunkhouse was just finished. Della and Zeke are housed there with the older girls.” She pushed open the wooden screen door. “Here we are. It’s not a Hyatt, but it’s clean and functional.”

  She led them into a rectangular room that ran the width of the building. Easily forty feet long and fifteen feet wide, the space contained a kitchen and table with benches on one end and a living area on the other. The sofa and chairs had seen their fair share of bubble gum, Little Debbie cakes, and popcorn. An old-style projection TV took up one corner. But everything was spotless, even the plate-glass window that let sunlight stream onto the battered pine floors. The place smelled of lemon wax and an apple-scented candle.

  Eden stepped onto the blue-and-white rag rug. “It’s very homey.”

  “We do what we can to make the kids feel loved and wanted here. Let me show you the bedrooms.” Allie pointed out the dorm on one side of the hall. Five bunk beds flanked by utilitarian dressers were scattered through the room. There was one queen bed back against the far wall. “We have only one gender here at time.”

  Eden glanced around and spotted hair ribbons and pink bows. A lump formed in her throat. She wanted to wander the room alone and examine all the little-girl items. Which bed belonged to Brianna? There was a stuffed bear on the closest bed. Its button nose was missing, and the little vest was ragged from the loving touch of small fingers.

  She picked it up. “Whose is this?”

  “That’s Katie’s.”

  The little redhead. The child she’d felt an immediate attraction to. Eden hugged the bear to her chest, then reluctantly placed it back on the corduroy coverlet.

  Allie stepped to the door. “Your room is across the hall. There’s a monitor so you can hear what’s going on in here.”

  Room. As in one. Eden hadn’t thought far enough ahead to consider sleeping arrangements. She stopped in the hall when she saw the king-size bed that dominated the room. Clay nearly ran into her, and his big hands came down on her shoulders to steady them both. She heard him inhale harshly at the same time she did.

  She managed a smile at Allie, who had a raised brow. “Nice big room,” she said awkwardly.

  Their employer smiled. “There’s a stereo and computer for your use. We’ve got satellite Internet too. Not the fastest high-speed, but better than dial-up. Oh, and cell phone coverage is terrible here. There are only a few hot spots in the county.”

  Eden walked the perimeter of the room, peeked into the massive closet, and nodded approval at the two big dressers. “We’ll be fine here.”

  “I’ll leave you to unpack, then,” Allie said as a cowboy lugged their suitcases into the room. “This is Buzz. If you need anything, just ask.” She gave a wave, then her sandals slapped against the floors as she exited.

  The man’s weathered face cracked into a smile. “Got iced tea in the fridge. Cheese and venison sausage there too if you’re hungry.”

  “We’re fine for now,” Eden lied, eyeing the bed.

  Buzz backed out of the room. “Just holler if you need anything.” He shut the door behind him.

  Eden exhaled. “Well, this is a nice mess you’ve gotten us into.”

  He lifted a brow and grinned. “What? It’s a big bed. You stay on your side, and I’ll stay on mine.”

  Her glare was lost on him because he turned away, grabbed the biggest suitcase, and heaved it onto the plaid bedspread. He lifted the lid and began to haul her belongings out.

  “I’ll do that myself.” She elbowed him out of the way. That spicy cologne was the same one he’d always worn, and the familiarity made her want to lean against him for a moment. But she collected herself. She wouldn’t be weak. She had to focus on her daughter.

  She kicked off her heels and began to lift her things out. The braided rug was rough on her feet. “Okay with you if I take this dresser?” She pointed to the one on the left side of the bed.

  He didn’t look at her. “Whatever you want.”

  Fine. He could give her the cold shoulder if he wanted. She jammed her underwear into the top drawer, then began to hang up her slacks and tops. She glanced at Clay out of the corner of her eye. It would take all her strength to ignore the chemistry between them. And that’s all it had ever been.

  He turned and caught her staring, but he frowned when he saw her side of the closet. “Is that all you brought? No jeans?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Jeans?”

  “I thought by now you would have unbent a little. Everyone wears jeans. It’s not a sign of poverty.”

  What did he know of poverty? He’d never gone to school in jeans that were three inches shy of her ankles and riddled with holes. Not the stylish tears either, but gaping holes that made other girls giggle. When she had finally gotten a decent pair of slacks, she’d sworn never to wear jeans again. And she wasn’t about to start now.

  An hour later Eden coughed as a cloud of dust kicked up by the horses’ hooves enveloped her. The thick red dirt already coated her slacks, and she was sure it was in her hair as well. She sat on the top rail of the corral fence and watched Buzz lead the last horse into the barn. When were they bringing the girls out to meet them? Her insides felt as jittery as the grasshoppers she saw fleeing the cowboy’s boots.

  Clay touched her arm. “Here they come.”

  She turned and saw Allie leading the girls from the house toward the corral. The little redhead was first in the line. Clay put his big hands on Eden’s waist and lifted her from the fence. She stepped away from him as soon as her flats hit the dirt.

  The children reached the scrubby grass beside the corral, and Allie instructed them to sit in a circle. “This is Mr. Clay and Miss Eden, girls. They will be living with you in the bunkhouse. Can you tell them your names?”

  The honey-skinned child with cornrows ducked her head. “I’m India,” she said, twisting a braided lock around her finger. “I just turned six.”

  The redhead, Katie, stared directly at them with a curious expression in her green eyes. “I can do a somersault. Want to see?”

  “In a little while,” Eden said, taken by the child’s spirit.

  “Can I ride the horse?”

  “Tell them your name,” Allie said. “Then we’ll see about the ride.”

  “I already did when they got here. I’m Katie,” the child said. “I’m India’s sister.”

  Allie smiled. “They’ve been inseparable since they arrived.” She urged a brown-haired little girl forward. “And this is Lacie. She doesn’t talk much, but all her shirts are red. Is that your favorite color, Lacie?”

  Lacie nodded and puffed out her chest to show her Minnie Mouse shirt.

  A blonde with huge brown eyes clung to Allie’s leg. “Do you have a dog?” she asked. “My foster mom said I could have a puppy here.”

  “We have some puppies in the barn you can play with,” Allie said. “And Jem is around here somewhere. He’s a very nice dog. Can you tell your counselors your name?”

  “Madeline,” the little girl said. “I’m going to name my puppy Oscar.”

  Eden smiled at the last little girl. Smaller than the other children, she had her head down. Her mousy brown hair nearly hid her face. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

  The child buried her head against Allie’s leg. “Paige. I don’t want to ride the horses. I’m ’lergic to them.”

  Allie smiled. “You’re not allergic to them, h
oney. You’re just scared. Give it a day or two and you’ll find one you love.”

  “I want to see the puppies now,” Madeline demanded. “Miss Casey told us they would be old enough today, and I still haven’t seen them.”

  Allie grinned. “Casey was the previous counselor. She had to leave because her brother was in an accident. The kids are all yours.” She pointed to the side barn door. “The puppies are right through there if you want to take the children to see them first. They just got their eyes open. Then you can do whatever activities with them you like. There’s a jungle gym set up behind the barn as well as a swing in the hayloft.”

  Which one of these girls was Brianna? Eden studied each one in turn as they headed to see the pups. She jumped when Clay put his hand on her elbow and leaned toward her to whisper in her ear.

  His breath stirred her hair. “Katie looks like you.”

  “She has red hair. That’s all,” she said. “Lacie and Paige both have brown hair like yours. Four of them could be Brianna.” She’d so hoped one glimpse of the girls would tell her which one was their daughter, but it wasn’t going to be that easy.

  His hand dropped away and he yanked open the door to the barn. A border collie darted past him and raced toward the house. Eden peered past Clay to the dim interior of the barn. She sneezed at the scent of hay. Dust motes danced in a shaft of sunlight. Was that smell manure? The nauseating scent made her stop dead in the doorway.

  Clay glanced at her feet. “I think we’d better get you some boots.”

  It was manure. A patty of brown lay between her and the closest stall. “Boots? I’m a city girl, not a cowboy.”

  “Alrighty then, city girl. Be careful of the rattlers and tarantulas.”

  She recoiled when he named the creatures. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Dead serious.” He pointed to something on the wall.

  Peering closer, she realized it was the tail of a snake. The rattling part, she assumed. She shuddered.

  “Puppies!” Madeline darted past them to where a border collie lay on a bed of hay. Six round-bellied puppies crawled around her.

  “Ooh, too cute!” Eden squatted and scooped up an adorable black-and-white one that had one eye circled in black fur.

  “Looks like they’re about two weeks old,” Clay said.

  But he was watching her, not the puppy. Her face heated and she handed the puppy to Madeline. The little girl’s wispy hair was so blond it was nearly as white as the little collie’s pale fur. Eden resisted the urge to run her fingers through that fine fluff. She’d seen pictures of Clay, and he’d been a towhead as a child.

  “This one is mine,” Madeline said, cuddling the puppy close. “His name is Spot.”

  “What happened to naming him Oscar?” Clay asked.

  The little girl stared at the puppy. “No, he’s a Spot. Oscar is green.”

  Eden noticed Paige hanging back. “Want to hold a puppy?” she asked.

  Paige backed away. “I can’t have a dog. I’m ’lergic.”

  “Well, you can stay here with me, then. Maybe we can get you a fish or something.” Eden smiled when the child leaned against her leg. Being around children again was awakening long-dormant feelings of warmth. She watched the other girls romp with the puppies. “Spot can be our group puppy. We’ll come and see him often, okay? Because puppies need their mommies to grow up strong and healthy.”

  Her voice trailed off when the girls looked at her. None of them had mommies, poor kids.

  4

  EDEN WAS IN THE BATHROOM HELPING THE GIRLS WITH THEIR BATHS. CLAY SAT WITH HIS boots on the scarred coffee table in the TV room. Their first day was under their belt, but it had been too hectic to even think about getting DNA samples. They’d do that tomorrow for sure. He had brought a top-notch kit from a respected lab that law enforcement officers used.

  A fist thumped the screen door, and he looked up to see a man in a cowboy hat on the stoop. “Come on in,” Clay called.

  The man pushed his hat to the back of his head and stepped through the doorway. “You two did a fine job today, Allie said.” He held out his hand. “Rick Bailey.”

  Clay put his feet on the floor and stood, then gripped Rick’s outstretched hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you from Michael Wayne. And from Brendan Waddell. Michael is looking forward to seeing you again. I’m sure he’ll be calling so you can meet Gracie and he can meet Eden.”

  “I’ll track him down if he doesn’t.”

  Rick dropped onto the sofa. “They both gave you a glowing recommendation.” The man studied Clay. “Brendan says you helped him out in Colombia.”

  The awareness in the man’s face was caused by more than information about Clay’s past career. “Sounds like he’s given you more than just my work stats.”

  Rick’s eyes were kind. “He told me about your daughter. I’m sorry.”

  Clay couldn’t hold the man’s compassionate gaze. He sighed and glanced out the window. “Thanks.” It was a relief to have that bit out in the open.

  “Did you ever find out who was responsible?”

  Clay shrugged. “Not really.” He didn’t know the man well enough to confide in him. He picked up the file on the table. “I’ve been reading about the girls in our bunkhouse. Rough stuff.”

  Rick nodded, his expression sober. “The things we see could break your heart. This batch of kids is sweet as all get-out, though.”

  Clay opened the folder. “Looks like Lacie was left outside a Catholic church when she was six months old. In February.”

  “A puzzle, that one. She’d been well taken care of. Had on a sleeper that came from Nordstrom’s. That seemed odd. Her parents were well enough off to buy things at a fine department store but then abandoned her? Something weird about that.”

  “This was in Dallas?”

  “Yep.” Rick reached over to pull out a picture of a baby held by a nun. “This is Sister Marjo. She visits Lacie every month, so I hear. She’s the woman who found Lacie.”

  Clay studied the woman’s smiling face. “Does Lacie mention her?”

  “All the time. The sister is coming here in two weeks while on vacation.”

  “That’s dedication. Getting to this neck of West Texas is like visiting the moon.” He flipped to the next child. “Madeline was taken from her mother when the mom was put in a mental hospital. Where is the mother now?”

  “Evidently she was released two months ago. She’s begun proceedings to regain custody.”

  Clay winced. “How well is she?”

  “Probably not that great,” Rick said. “Schizophrenia isn’t easily cured. I’m doubtful she can get custody.”

  “We’re quite taken with Katie,” Clay said, picking up the picture of the smiling redhead.

  “We all are. She lights up a room when she comes in. Her father was shot in a burglary. There were no other family members around to take her, so she ended up in foster care at age three.”

  “Was she home during the shooting?”

  Rick nodded. “She has nightmares about it, though she says she doesn’t remember. Several psychologists have tried to get details out of her. The murderer was never apprehended.”

  “Where’s her mom?”

  Rick shrugged. “Took off sometime before that and hasn’t been in contact.”

  Clay picked up another paper. “From what I read, India’s entire family was killed in a house fire?”

  Rick winced. “Horrible situation. She was four. A meth lab explosion.”

  Clay’s own plight began to feel less horrible, somehow, knowing the pain that innocent children endured every day. “Lot of heartache in these kids’ lives.”

  “Too much.” Rick leaned over and picked up a picture of Paige.

  Clay’s heart clenched at the somber expression on her face. Her mousy hair hadn’t been washed. Too much misery stared out of those brown eyes. “What’s her story?”

  “No one really knows. She was a year old and found in a Walmart. There was a
video that showed two men leaving her in the toy department.”

  “Was she—abused?” It was all he could do to force out the question. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer.

  Rick shook his head. “No. That was the first worry, but other than being dirty and uncared for, she was healthy.”

  “How did you know her name?”

  “The foster home named her. She’s been with the same couple for four years. In fact, they’ve started adoption procedures. Good family.”

  Which one was Brianna? Clay had no clue. He was drawn to Katie, but how much of that was simple charisma and personality? And the red hair, of course. His daughter could be any one of the girls except for India. He flipped back through the pictures. Why had he thought this would be so easy?

  “Want to meet the other counselors?” Rick asked.

  “Sure.”

  “They’re coming here for devotions. We try to do that with all the kids together. I wanted to make sure you were up to it on your first night.”

  “I can use some of God’s Word myself right about now. It’s been a wild day. But fun.”

  Clay watched Rick step to the door and call across the yard. A few minutes later a couple trooped inside with eight girls. The kids were a little bigger than Clay and Eden’s charges, calmer somehow, and a little warier.

  The couple was in their late thirties. The man looked like a young James Earl Jones, burly and with an expressive face as he smiled and shook hands with Clay. “Glad to have some help here,” the man said. “I’m Zeke, and this is my wife, Della.”

  His wife was beautiful with black hair and dark eyes that held love as she touched the head of a little girl near her. “I caught a glimpse of your pretty wife, Clay. Where is she?”

  “She’s getting the girls ready for bed.” He heard them trooping down the hall. “Here they come.” He drank in the sight of the freshly bathed girls. He was already beginning to think of them as his girls.

  Eden paused in the doorway and smiled. “Hi. You must be the Rodriguez family.”