by Linda Warren
“We need to talk,” she said in a low voice.
“I don’t want to hear anything else,” he told her. “Nothing you can say is going to make this better. I have to get away from you. From myself.”
“Hardy, please. I need to know—”
He walked out the door and down the hall. He had no idea where he was going until he reached the entrance. The parking lot loomed in front of him, and he did a quick scan to locate his truck. After climbing inside, he started the engine and headed for somewhere. Or nowhere. He wasn’t quite sure, but any place was better than dealing with a woman who had deceived him.
Angie. Sweet, irresistible Angie had just shattered his heart. And there was no way to forgive that.
Ever.
* * *
ANGIE STARED OUT the window toward Horseshoe. It was dark, but she knew the direction.
She touched the windowpane and the coolness of the glass shot all the way to her heart. She was cold and empty. Somewhere deep inside she found the courage she’d been running on for years. It was like high octane keeping her going. But being strong had cost her more than she’d ever imagined.
She exhaled deeply, turned back to Erin and sat in the chair by the bed, her hand stroking Erin’s face.
After Dennis had left, she hadn’t known how to tell her mother that the marriage was over. Being a strong Catholic, her mother didn’t believe in divorce. So, with her stubborn pride intact, she’d had Erin alone, but after the birth she’d called Patsy and Peggy. She’d needed someone. They got her through it, and then she’d gone home to her parents.
There had been tons of questions from her mother, but her pit-bull sisters had fielded every one of them. And she’d let them protect her until she found the courage once again to stand on her own. It hadn’t been easy, and now she was about to lose it all.
She laid her head on the bed, tears rolling from her eyes. Everyone thought Dennis was Erin’s father, even her family. She’d told no one, not even Dennis, that Hardison Hollister was the father of her baby. That had been her secret.
Looking at her precious daughter, she had one thought. It was over. Her secret wasn’t a secret anymore. Hardy knew he was Erin’s father. She should feel some sort of relief, but the boulder on her chest felt that much heavier. Because it really wasn’t over. The worst was yet to come.
* * *
HARDY’S HEAD POUNDED, and he cursed under his breath. Where was he? It was dark, and he was sitting outside on a bench. A warm breeze touched his face and ruffled his hair. Reaching up to brush it out of his eyes, he realized he had a bottle in his hand. A whiskey bottle.
Just what he needed. He took a swig. Oh, yeah, Tennessee whiskey. It should solve all his problems, or maybe just drown them.
Through the pounding he kept hearing You’re Erin’s father.
He took another swallow, but the sound wouldn’t go away. Damn! He needed more booze.
“Hardy, is that you?”
Hardy blinked and saw at least two Wyatt Carsons standing there. He knew it was him because the moonlight reflected off the badge on his shirt.
“Yeah.”
“What are you doing sitting on the bench in front of the courthouse?”
“Hell, I don’t know.” He turned the bottle up again.
“Are you drunk?”
“Good guess. You’re not the sheriff for nothing.”
Wyatt sat beside him. “Are you drinking that straight?”
“Straight as an arrow to my gut, and I’m waiting for the numbness to knock me on my ass.”
“What’s wrong with you? I know it’s been a rough day, but I’ve never seen you drink like this and I’ve known you all of my life.”
“You know me pretty well, huh?”
“Pretty good.” Wyatt nodded.
“Do you know I have a kid?”
“What?”
“I have a kid, and I found out tonight.”
“You’re talking out of your head.” Wyatt stood. “Let’s go over to the jail and I’ll make some coffee and you can sober up. Then you can tell me what’s going on.”
“I’m telling you now. Damn it! Can’t you hear me?”
“The whole town can hear you, and I don’t think you want them to see the D.A. drunk on his ass.”
“Like I give a damn.” He tipped up the bottle again.
Wyatt jerked it out of his hand. “You’ve had enough.”
Hardy sat with his elbows on his knees, his face buried in his hands. “I have a kid, Wyatt. A kid I know nothing about.”
Wyatt sat down again. “Are you serious?”
“As serious as I’ve ever been.”
“How did you find this out?”
Hardy ran his hands up his face, trying to wipe away her voice. But it was right there, taunting him. He exhaled deeply. “She told me.”
“Who told you?”
“You’d never guess in a million years.”
Wyatt sighed. “Let’s go get some coffee.”
“Angie.”
Complete silence followed the word, and he could see his friend was flabbergasted.
“Are you talking about Angie Wiznowski?”
“Is there another Angie you know?”
“You mean...?”
The storm that had been brewing in him suddenly hit. He jumped to his feet, which was a trick because the world suddenly tipped. His stomach roiled and didn’t give him any time. He threw up everything he had in him, holding on to a tree. Sinking to his knees, he felt like the lowest scum who had ever walked on earth.
Wyatt put an arm around his waist and helped him to his feet. They made their way to the sheriff’s office.
Stuart, a deputy, opened the door, and Hardy headed for the bathroom. After rinsing out his mouth and washing his face, he took a moment to gather his composure. He walked into Wyatt’s office and sank into a chair. A cup of coffee was pushed into his hand, and he held it as if to steady the world around him. After downing two cups, his mind began to clear, but his head felt as big as the Alamo.
Wyatt sat in his leather chair across from him. “Stuart, you can go home. I got it.”
Stuart was thin and wiry and known to have the curiosity of a gossip columnist. “I can stay, Sheriff.”
“Thanks, Stu, but Lamar will be in soon, so go home early.”
“Okay.” Stu ambled slowly to the door, obviously hoping to hear a tidbit of gossip that would be all over Horseshoe in minutes.
“How did you know I was at the courthouse?” Hardy asked. “It’s still dark.”
“Stuart saw you drive up on the curb and watched you for a little bit, and then he called me. He was afraid to approach you. You know, being the D.A. and all, who is known as a respectable man around town.”
Hardy winced. “Okay. Drive it in with a sledgehammer.”
Wyatt got up and brought him another cup of coffee. “Talk, because you weren’t making much sense earlier.”
He sipped the dark brew. “I’m Erin’s father. I wonder how long I’ll have to say that before I’ll really believe it.”
Wyatt tapped a pencil on the desk. “You’ll have to tell me how that’s possible. Angie married some guy she met in Temple. He left her, and she brought the baby home to Horseshoe. How do you fit into this picture? You were in Houston, I believe.”
“It happened before I went to Houston and before Dad and I took Rachel to Paris.”
“And...” Wyatt prompted.
“After our mother was killed, Rachel had a hard time. She was restless and very unhappy. Then she made friends with Angie, who was as calm as a summer’s day. She was a good influence for my sister. Dad threw Rachel a big going-away party and had all her friends over. Angie was there.” He stared down into the coffee cup, not really wanting to share this with his friend. But he had to tell someone. It didn’t take him long to tell about the summer with Angie and what he’d found at the party when he’d gotten home. He took a swallow of coffee to bolster his courage. “I let Angie
sleep it off because I knew how her mother was. The next morning things happened that I wish had never happened. She was too young, and I should’ve known better, but I can’t go back and change it.”
“You didn’t see her after that?”
“I saw her in town a few days before we left for Europe. I told her how sorry I was and wished her all the best for the future.”
“It never crossed your mind she could be pregnant?”
“We used protection.”
“Come on, Hardy.”
He ran his hands up his face. “I’m so angry and I want to blame her, but—”
“Did she give a reason for not telling you?”
He set his cup on the desk. “Yeah. I was in Europe at first, but when she heard I was back, she approached my dad and he told her I was engaged. She didn’t want to ruin my life. That’s rich, huh?”
“Sounds like Angie to me. She doesn’t like to hurt people.”
Hardy stood and swiped a hand through his disheveled hair. “Well, she hurt me.”
Wyatt leaned back in his chair. “Did she give a reason for not telling you once you returned to Horseshoe?”
Guilt pounded at him with the force of a baseball bat. “She tried, but I brushed her off every time.”
“Why would you do that?”
He took a ragged breath. “That’s hard to explain, but I didn’t want to get involved with Angie again.”
“Why?”
“I’d rather not talk about it. First, I have to figure out a way to deal with all this anger inside me. And, yeah, a lot of it is at myself.”
“My advice to you is to get over to the hospital and talk to Angie and be there for her and Erin. Put your hurt feelings aside and think about what Angie’s going through now. Do you think you can do that?”
He looked at his friend through narrowed eyes. “You’re taking her side.”
“There are no sides here. You and Angie have to find a balance for Erin.”
“I know that. But what do I do with all this anger?”
“Lay off the booze, for one thing. And take it one day at a time. Once you get to know Erin, she’ll replace all that anger with love.”
“How many times have I seen her at your house playing with Jody?”
“A lot.”
“And I never suspected a thing. Remember that day she and Jody were playing hopscotch on the sidewalk and she fell and skinned her knee? I had just driven up. I picked her up and carried her into the house. She felt like a feather in my arms, a beautiful feather. I picked up my daughter, and I didn’t even know she was mine. That’s what makes me so angry. All the years I’ve missed and she was right under my nose. My child was there, and I never saw her.”
Wyatt came around the desk and patted him on the shoulder. “Sorry, man. That’s rough.”
Hardy drew a deep breath. “I’d better go home, get cleaned up and see how my kid is doing. And I have Dad and Olivia to deal with. I bailed on them last night.”
“Are you going to tell the judge?”
“I might wait before telling him. He’ll want to rush in and cause all kinds of problems. Right now I’m just feeling my way and hoping to see and spend some time with my child.”
“What about Olivia?”
“I don’t know, Wyatt. She’s not going to be happy, but I have a kid and I’m not walking away from her.” He frowned. “Do you have any idea where my truck is?”
“You jumped the curb at the courthouse and it’s parked half on, half off the lawn. The quicker you get it off, the better it will be for the gossip, because come daylight, your story is going to be all over town.”
Hardy headed for the door. “Thanks, Wyatt.”
“I take it the Wiznowskis don’t know you’re Erin’s biological father.”
He turned back. “I assume they think the ex is the father.”
“If you think Bubba is hard to deal with, wait until the news spreads through the rest of the family. You’ll have your hands full defending yourself.”
“I hadn’t thought of that, and I really don’t care about their reaction. I only care about getting to know my daughter.”
“What made Angie tell you now?”
Hardy shrugged. “I kept pressing her about Erin’s father. He needed to be there, and she was very evasive about him. Maybe she got tired of me pressuring her or maybe she just got tired of keeping her secret. I don’t know. She just blurted it out.”
“Good luck, man. I’m here if you need me.”
“Thanks.”
As he backed his truck off the lawn, he knew Wyatt was right. His name would be mud all over town. But he wasn’t worried about that. The only worry he had was how to make a connection to a little girl he didn’t even know.
Because he was her father.
Chapter Five
Hardy sped down the county blacktop to the Circle H Ranch. He drove under the wrought iron arch entrance and onto the graveled road that led to the colonial-style two-story house. Brown board fences bordered him on both sides. Live oaks graced the fence all the way to the house. In places their branches intertwined, giving a shady umbrella effect.
He swung into his parking spot in the detached garage. After walking through a breezeway into the kitchen, he found his dad, Mavis and Harvey Weltzen eating breakfast. Mavis had been the housekeeper for years and Harvey was the foreman of the ranch.
His dad looked up from his plate. “Where in the hell have you been?”
Judge Hardison Sr. was a barrel-chested man who exuded confidence and attitude. His booming voice was known to stop criminals in their tracks. Most people feared him because of his strong stance on crime and morality. There was no leeway, according to him.
“I told you, I was involved in an accident and I had to handle things.”
“You should’ve been man enough to phone and let us know what was going on. We worried all night. Olivia’s been calling and calling.” His dad looked him up and down. “You look fine. What kind of accident?”
The criticism stung, and Hardy bit his tongue. “A little girl ran out in front of my truck and I hit her.”
“Oh, my God!” Mavis covered her mouth with her hand in shock. “Is she okay?”
“She’s in the hospital in Temple with a broken leg, some cracked ribs and a bruise on her head, but the doctor said she’s going to be fine.”
“Where did you hit this girl?” his dad asked in his most authoritative voice.
“On Magnolia Street. I was on my way home.”
“Who is she?”
“Angie Wiznowski’s daughter.”
“Did Wyatt take a report?”
“Not yet, but I’m sure he will.”
His dad pointed a finger at him. “Get this swept under the rug as fast as you can.”
Hardy clenched his jaw. “I’m not sweeping anything under the rug. It was an accident. If people can’t understand that, then they have a problem.”
“Boy, you’ve got a lot to learn.”
“I’m the D.A. of this county, and I will make sure that the legal procedure is followed, even when it includes me.”
“If charges are filed, you can kiss that D.A. job goodbye and any chance of running for district judge will be gone. Talk to Angie. She’s a sweet girl. She’ll understand.”
He turned toward the hallway. “I’ve got to go.”
Hardy had spent years trying to live up to everything his father expected of him. But sometimes the pressure got to him.
“Your sister called last night.”
He looked back. “How is she?” Rachel rarely phoned.
“Still trying to find the real Rachel teaching art in New York. I told her if she doesn’t know who she is by now, she needs to stop looking and come home. Eleven years is long enough.”
There were times when Hardy questioned his reasons for returning to Horseshoe. He’d had a good job in Houston at a top-notch law firm, and he should’ve stayed there. Because of his father’s health, Hardy had come h
ome to be there for him. Under doctor’s orders, the judge had retired; his high blood pressure was out of control. The doctor had warned of a heart attack or a stroke. But if Hardy’d learned anything, he’d learned that Hardison Hollister Sr. never needed anyone.
“We’re vaccinating calves today. You have time to help?”
“No, Dad. I told you. I’ll be busy handling the accident and making sure the little girl’s medical bills are paid.”
His dad bobbed his head. “Yeah. Yeah. That’s what you need to do. Put on a good front. Show everyone you’re sorry. Just don’t let this get out of control.”
Hardy sighed. The situation was so far out of control he didn’t know if he could ever gain any ground with Angie or his daughter. The thought of telling his dad the truth briefly floated to his mind. But he quickly regained his senses. His father would storm in like the National Guard, taking over Angie and the child and making sure she knew she was a Hollister. Hardy wasn’t ready for that. Angie wasn’t, either.
“I’ll catch you later.”
On his way to the stairs, the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it,” he shouted to Mavis. Olivia stood on the doorstep. She ran into his arms. Seeing her, Angie’s words came back to him. Blonde. Model type. Perfect body. That explained Olivia to a T. Was she right? Did he only date one type of woman?
But there was more to Olivia than good looks. She was a trial lawyer and worked for a big firm in Austin.
“Are you okay?” She stroked his face. “You said you were in some kind of accident. Your text was really short, and I was worried.”
“I’m fine.” He kissed her hand and told her what had happened.
Her blue eyes widened. “Does your father know?” Her response threw him for a moment, but then Olivia and his father were on the same wavelength—motivated by Hardy’s political career.
“Yes. Uh...we need to talk, but I don’t have time right now. I have to get back to the hospital to make sure the girl is okay.”
She reached up and kissed him. “That would be best. You don’t want this to get out of hand.”
He didn’t respond. At the moment he was feeling a little empty and conflicted. He’d tell Olivia about Erin later. “I’ll call you tonight.”