by Rula Sinara
Her tone was harsh. Bitter. She shivered and hugged herself, as if protecting her heart from him. Pepper whimpered and looked up at them. Mia, sitting there sucking on her thumb while holding on to Pepper’s ear with her other hand, stared at them with big eyes. Choice. He had been upset about not being given a choice in how far he would go to stand behind Faye. He hadn’t been given a choice when his father or mother were taken from this life or when Natalie had walked away. And here he was, taking that same power away from Faye.
He raked his hair back, then took off his jacket and put it around her shoulders, taking that half step closer to her. And then another. Until her breath danced in soft, frosted spirals with his. The town, the people, everything around them seemed to disappear into the night.
“What do you want, Faye?” he asked, soft enough that only she could hear.
She tugged his jacket around her and bridged the gap between them. Her arms brushed his and he placed his hands on hers, hoping she’d say that he could hold on to her forever. She looked him straight in the eyes. No more tears. No quivering. No hesitation.
“I want you. I love you, Carlos Ryker. I know I have no right to ask you to forgive me, but I love you. I choose you.”
The ground seemed to wash away under his feet. The cold night air felt not so cold anymore. He brushed his thumb across her lips, then held her face in his hands.
“I want you too. I love you, Faye Donovan. I have no right to ask you to stay, but I love you. I choose you.”
“We can make this work, right?”
“We’ll figure it out. That’s what love’s all about.” He wasn’t sure how, but they would. If it meant quitting his job, following her and finding a new position—he’d do it. He didn’t want to leave this town, but he could always come back to visit his friends here and keep his place as a summer home if that’s what it took to keep Faye in his life. And Mia too, because he’d miss her. He’d be proud to be her uncle. He leaned in, wanting to kiss Faye. Unable to wait any longer.
“Does that mean you won’t mind if I stay and make Turtleback my home?”
He paused.
“You want to move here? You’d move here? What about your sister? And your business?”
She looked up and down the street that ran through Turtleback. At all the dogs walking alongside their owners. She smiled.
“I think I’ve formed a new pack here, don’t you? I could open a business here. Either close the other or hire someone to run it. And I have a feeling Clara might be willing to move here with Mia. She’d be leaving a place that holds bad memories and starting new ones here. A new life. Best of all, I’d have everyone I love here. In Turtleback. Especially you.”
“Promise me one thing,” he said. “That you’ll give me the honor, the gift, of being able to wake up every day by your side and love you forever.”
“Only if you promise me the same gift.”
“Consider it done.”
With that promise, he kissed her. A kiss that triggered a townful of cheers, whistles and even a happy squeal and clapping from Mia. A kiss that would lead to a million more. A lifetime of moments and memories. Life could be unpredictable, but he knew there would always be one thing that would never change. Their love. A love that would last forever.
* * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from To Save a Child by Linda Warren.
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To Save a Child
by Linda Warren
CHAPTER ONE
“IT’S SO LONELY, Cora, and the house is empty without you. You were always puttering in the kitchen or complaining about something.”
Walter Chisholm shifted in his chair to get closer to the warmth of the stone fireplace. “I guess you know Cole is home. He says he’s going to make sure I eat right and take my medicine like I’m supposed to. Can you send him back to Austin and his girlfriend? That’s where he needs to be, and I know you can make it happen. But then I know how you are...
“What am I supposed to do now? There’s nothing left to live for. I know, there’s Cole, but he’s a grown man and has his own life in the city. Me, I’m just lost.”
The wind howled with groans and grunts. “The devil’s having a party night, Cora, like you used to say. It’s gonna take a whole lot of faith to get through it. It’s November in Texas and the temperature’s below freezing, and the wind is mad as that old hen that fell into the water bucket and couldn’t get out. Remember that? We couldn’t get near her for days.” Walt chuckled at the thought. “Don’t worry about your animals. They’re in the barn, and they’re nice and warm. You probably know that, don’t you, Cora? What am I gonna do without you?”
His dog, lying by the fireplace, lifted his head and barked.
“What is it, Rascal?” Walt asked. “Are you cold? Get closer to the fire.”
The black-and-white-speckled part–Australian blue heeler stood and barked again.
“What’s wrong with you?”
Rascal trotted to the front door and barked even louder.
“Rascal, come back in here. I’m not going outside. I have strict orders from Cole.”
Rascal continued barking. He trotted back to Walt and then to the door again.
“What’s wrong with you, you crazy dog? I told you it’s cold outside,” Walt grumbled as he got up.
Rascal leaped high on the door, barking his head off.
“Okay, I’ll show you.” Walt opened the door, and the force of the north wind almost knocked him down. “See, I told you. Get back in the house. This is nonsense.”
But Rascal was already on the porch sniffing at something. Walt looked down. What in the world...? It was a baby carrier—with a baby in it.
He raised his eyes toward the sky as tiny shavings of sleet slowly littered the front yard. “Cora, you sent me a baby!”
* * *
THE SLEET TIP-TAPPED across Cole Chisholm’s windshield as the wipers swished back and forth to keep up, but the sleet was winning. He drove over the cattle guard to his grandfather’s farm, his tires crunching on the frozen hard ground. What a night, and it was only seven o’clock. He’d pulled three vehicles out of ditches they’d slid into from driving on the icy roads. His shift was done, and he was now home to take care of his grandpa.
He’d only been in Horseshoe, Texas, a week, but it seemed much longer. His grandmother had passed away three months ago, and his grandfather had stopped eating and taking his medication, so Cole had to come home to make sure Grandpa was okay.
Cole was trying to help his grandfather adjust, but he had just made detective on the Austin Police Department, and he needed to go back to work. Grandpa had said he would be fine, and when Cole called he said he was fine. Then Cole got calls from the sheriff in Horseshoe and neighbors who said Grandpa wasn’t doing so well. Cole came home to find a grieving old man who didn’t want to live anymore.
Cole’s parents had died in a traffic accident when he was a year old, and his grandparents had raised him. But no matter how close Cole was with his grandfather, the man was the most stubborn, orneriest cowboy alive.
With a push of a button, the garage door went up, and Cole parked beside his grandmother’s thirty-three-year-old Buick. It had only thirty thousand miles on it and not a scratch or a dent. Grandpa started it every day to keep the battery charged. Any thought of selling it was met with a big frown. It was the first and only car his grandparents had ever bought new from a dealership. After an old truck had blown a tire and rammed into his parent’s car causing a fiery crash on I-35, his grandparents had decided they needed a safer vehicle for Cole to ride in. He grew up knowing that car
was extra special, and he never once asked to drive it. That would’ve been too much hell to walk through.
He pulled out his cell and called Wyatt Carson, the sheriff of Horseshoe. “Hey, Wyatt, I’m in for the night.”
Wyatt had asked if he could help while he was in town. Cole couldn’t take money for the job because he was already employed by the Austin Police Department, but Wyatt agreed to check on Cole’s grandfather every now and then when Cole was away, and Cole was thankful for that. Wyatt was always short of deputies, and Cole had agreed to do some work just for something to keep him busy while trying to help his grandpa adjust to his new situation. He might need a few angels for that.
“Thanks, Cole. Did you have any problems?”
“No, just pulled a few cars out of ditches. The electricity is probably going to go out, so I’m sticking close to home. At least I still have cell reception.”
“Me, too.”
“Tomorrow’s Sunday, and with this weather I’m staying home to make sure Grandpa stays out of it.”
“Good deal.”
As Cole jammed his phone into his pocket, it buzzed. He looked at the caller ID. Stephanie. It was just what he needed—a breath of fresh air.
“Hey, Steph.” He and Stephanie had been dating for about six months, but lately she’d been pushing him for a commitment. One he wasn’t ready for. At thirty-four, he didn’t understand why. Maybe because he liked his freedom. Ever since he was a kid, freedom was the only thing he ever wanted.
“Cole, when are you coming home? You’ve been there over a week now.”
“I’m trying to get Grandpa back into the groove of living, but he’s not cooperating very well.”
“You’re going to have to accept that he can’t live alone anymore. He’s seventy-eight, and he needs to be in a nursing home where he’ll be taken care of by professionals. There are a lot of nice facilities here in Austin—you can pick one close to us and visit him all the time. That’s the obvious answer. I don’t see why that isn’t obvious to you.”
“Come on, Steph. Give me a little more time. My grandpa isn’t leaving this house or Horseshoe until he’s drawn his last breath. I know him, and I’m trying to find a way for him to stay here.”
“I miss you.”
“I miss you, too.”
“Then come home.”
There was that push again. He didn’t like being backed into a corner. “I’ll be there soon.”
He shoved his phone into his pocket with a grimace. He had a foot in two worlds. He wanted to return to Austin and Stephanie and his life. Grandpa was holding on to him with a guilty clutch. Well, not literally his grandpa, but Cole himself. He couldn’t in good conscience walk away from his grandfather.
He pushed a button, and the garage door shut out the cold night. As he exited the truck, a slight smile tugged at his lips. His grandmother had had a hard time opening and closing the garage door, so when he came home from the Army on his first leave, he’d installed a garage door opener. At first she was afraid of it and wouldn’t use it. Then one day she went into town to buy groceries and the dark rumbling clouds threatened rain. When she reached home, she pushed the button without a second thought. She didn’t want rain to get on Bertha—that’s what they called the old Buick. From then on, the door opener was the best thing ever invented.
Going into the house, he brushed his winter boots on the mat Grandma always kept there. Then he slipped out of his heavy coat and wool cap and hung them on the pegs by the door. He could hear his grandfather talking. Oh, no... He talked to Cole’s grandmother all the time like she was in the room, and sometimes Cole had to look around to make sure she wasn’t. When Grandpa did this, it was like jabbing a spike on the last nerve Cole had.
“I’m home, Grandpa.”
“Come in here and see what your grandma sent.”
What... His shoulders sagged with resignation. Every day it was the same thing. Dealing with that mind-set was getting to him, so he braced himself for another round of “what was real and what wasn’t.” He stopped short as he saw his grandfather sitting in his chair in the den...with a baby in his lap.
He blinked. What the...
He glanced around to see if he was in the right house. One time when he was about seventeen years old, he’d gotten drunk with his friends and wound up at Miss Bertie Snipe’s house. He had that same feeling now of waking up and being somewhere he wasn’t supposed to be.
All the photos on the walls were of his dad. The stone fireplace burned brightly under Grandpa’s wood-carved mantel, Grandma’s rocker recliner on one side and Rascal in his bed right beside it. And then there was Grandpa, sitting in his rocker recliner...with a baby in his lap.
He took a deep breath. “Grandpa, where did you get that baby?”
“I told you. Your grandma sent her.” Grandpa looked down at the baby. “She’s dressed all in pink, so I’m sure she’s a girl.”
He gritted his teeth. “How did Grandma send her?”
“Well, it’s the darnedest thing. I was talking to your grandma, telling her how life wasn’t worth living. I told her you were home and she needed to talk to you so you’d go back to Austin and your life. Then the wind started howling, and I told her again how lonely it was and how I didn’t know what to do with myself. Then all of a sudden Rascal starts barking and barking. He wouldn’t stop until I went to the door, and there she was, sitting right there in that.” Grandpa pointed to the carrier on the sofa. “What was your grandma thinking? I can’t take care of a baby.”
“The baby was left on our porch in this weather?”
Grandpa nodded. “Yes, she was. She was all wrapped up, and I took all that extra stuff off her.” He gestured toward the clothes and blankets on the sofa.
Cole went to the front porch and looked around. He saw nothing but sleet coating the grass like frosting on a cake. The trees were like stick figures standing boldly against the chilling wind. No one would leave a baby on someone’s front porch in this weather. What was going on?
He went back inside and found Grandpa staring down at the baby, who was sound asleep. With barely visible dark brown hair, she had a big pink bow fastened to her head with some sort of band. If she got caught in the wind, he was sure that bow would lift her off the ground.
“I’ll put her back in her carrier,” Cole said.
“No.” Grandpa wrapped both arms around the baby as if to protect her. “She’s sleeping, so lower your voice or you’ll wake her. There was a bottle of milk in the carrier, and I gave it to her and now she’s resting just fine.”
“I’m going to check and see if someone had a wreck and brought the baby here for safekeeping. They probably knocked at the door and you didn’t hear them.”
“I hear just fine. Your grandma sent this baby.” There was grit in his grandpa’s voice—the voice he’d heard many times during his teenage years.
Cole sighed. “Grandpa, you know Grandma didn’t send that baby.”
“Ah.” Grandpa waved his hand. “You don’t believe nothin’.”
“I know that baby didn’t drop from heaven.”
“I know that, too.” Grandpa frowned, the wrinkles on his face as deep as the tire treads on Cole’s four-wheel-drive truck. “But she had a hand in this baby being here.” Grandpa gazed at the baby. “I think I’m gonna name her Grace. Yeah, Grace. That’s what we were going to name Jamie if he was a girl.”
Cole groaned inwardly. He couldn’t endure another story of his father. “I’m sure she has a name. I’m going outside.”
Grandpa waved his hand again. “Go. I’ll take care of the baby.”
This morning his grandpa had wanted to die, and tonight he wanted to take care of a baby. The man was losing some of his knockers. His grandma used to say that all the time about someone who wasn’t quite all there. She had it confused with the saying “off your rocker.
” He’d figured that out when he was about ten. Grandma had come up with some crazy sayings over the years. Yep, Grandpa was losing some of his knockers. He had to find that baby’s mother before Grandpa claimed that kid was his.
Getting back out in this weather wasn’t something he really wanted to do, but the baby’s mother or father had to be close and likely in danger. Cole grabbed his coat and wool cap and headed for his truck. He’d come home on the county road from the right and he hadn’t seen any vehicles, so he took a left going out to Highway 77. If someone had slid off the road, they would probably be on the highway. He drove about a mile and didn’t see anything but an empty, cold highway. No traffic. The strong wind tugged at his vehicle and the sleet dusted the tarmac, making it a slippery slide, but it had let up some and visibility was better.
Driving was a hazard, but the all-weather tires on his truck made it a little easier. He drove slow, looking for a vehicle. When he didn’t see anything, he turned around and went the other way. Again, he didn’t see anything. There had to be someone out here who needed help. That baby didn’t drop from heaven. Of that, he was certain.
He pulled the truck over to the side of the road to figure out what to do next. And then his headlights picked up a shimmer of light. He turned the truck in that direction, and that’s when he saw it. A blue car had slid off the road and hit a tree.
He pulled the hood of his coat over his head and slipped on his gloves. With a flashlight in his hand, he got out of the truck and ran to the car, being very careful about his steps. The wind slapped at him, and the icy temperature made him glad he had on his long johns.
There were a lot of baby things in the back seat. He looked around at the darkness. Nothing and no one. He had to figure this out and fast. Since he didn’t see anyone around the car, they had to have crossed the broken barbed-wire fence and walked straight up the small hill to Grandpa’s house. He couldn’t figure out why the driver didn’t stay with the baby.