Texas Rebels: Egan

by Linda Warren

  He pushed the card toward her. “I’d feel better if you kept it.”

  Ignoring the card, she walked around the desk and hugged him. He held her in a fierce grip and it took a moment before he would let go.

  “Goodbye, Dad. I’ll call when I can.”

  She walked out with her heart in shreds, but she felt better about herself than she had in a very long time.

  * * *

  AFTER A LONG DAY of building fences, Egan was dog tired again, and he liked it that way. He couldn’t think. But every now and then Rachel’s words slipped through the tiredness.

  My father is not the one standing between us. It’s you.

  He thought in his own mind he was deterring you from a life of crime, keeping you away from the crowd who had led you astray.

  “You okay?” Rico asked, and Egan realized he’d been staring off into space.

  He leaned on the horse stall, knowing he had to talk to someone and Rico was the logical person. He wouldn’t judge him. “Can I ask you a question?”

  Rico hung a bridle on the barn wall. “Sure.”

  Egan pushed back his hat slightly. He hated his new hat. He’d had it for days and he still hadn’t broken it in, so it wasn’t comfortable. His old one had been a part of him.

  “Don’t answer right away. Think about it for a minute.”

  “Okay.” Rico stood on the other side of the stall, watching him.

  “Do you think Judge Hollister was right in sentencing me to prison? No.” He held up his hand. “What I mean is do you think the judge thought he was fair in my sentencing, and it had nothing to do with my father?”

  Rico placed his forearms on the stall and leaned in slightly, as if deep in thought. “I’m thinking, like you asked. I’m going to be honest, because I know you want me to. When I first met you in prison, you had an attitude. That’s what prompted you getting your head pushed into a toilet. Big Joe didn’t like any lip from a kid.”

  “I guess I had a chip on my shoulder.”

  “A big one and it almost got you killed. You were fighting mad at what had been done to you and your life, and you took it out on everyone, even men twice your size and three times as mean.”

  “If I was that bad, why did you champion me?” Egan had never had the chance to ask that question of his friend, and he desperately wanted an answer.

  “If anyone needed a champion, you did, and I don’t like bullies. Besides, I saw a lot of me as a teenager in you. Striking back when I couldn’t do anything else. But once I got to know you, the inner you who was struggling with your father’s death, we formed a connection that will never be broken.”

  Egan nodded, not upset with his friend, because he knew he spoke the truth.

  “And if I remember correctly, you told me the crowd you were running with in college was pretty rough. They were into drugs and illegal activities, but you had resisted so far. How long do you think that would’ve lasted?”

  It was like looking at the past through a mirror. Egan had been young, and angry that his father had died, and he’d been lashing out at everyone. He would start drinking in the mornings and when he fell into bed at night he’d be stone drunk. That was the only way to forget that his father was gone.

  “You were already smoking marijuana every now and then, and believe me, I know what drugs can do. I’ve been there and lived through it all. You know that. Anything I’m saying is only to help you.”

  “I know, man. I’ve had this hatred and resentment in me for so many years, and I’m beginning to wonder who I’ve been more angry with—myself or Judge Hollister.”

  “Only you can answer that. But if you want answers, you have to talk to the man himself.”

  “Thanks, Jericho. I...”

  “I know, man, you don’t have to explain anything to me. I’m always here if you need anything.”

  He inclined his head and Jericho walked out of the barn. So many thoughts warred inside Egan, but his friend was right. It was time to face Judge Hollister and let all the resentment go, just as he’d told Rachel.

  She’d been gone almost a week now and a day didn’t go by that he didn’t think about her. He wondered how long it would be before that stopped. It had to soon or the memories would drive him crazy. Maybe if he washed the sheets on his bed it would help. Somehow, he kept putting it off, spending time in the woods without a bed, thinking that the memories would fade. So far, he wasn’t having any luck.

  Pete whined at his feet and Egan bent down to rub the dog’s head. “What do you think, boy? Is it time to face my past?”

  Pete barked.

  “Yeah, I thought so.”

  * * *

  ON SUNDAY MORNING he drove over to the Hollisters’, one place he said he would never go, but he had to face the man. Since it was Sunday, he was hoping to catch the judge alone. It was well known that Hardy and Angie attended church regularly.

  Egan rang the doorbell of the big two-story home. No one answered, so he rang it a couple more times. He was about to go back to his truck when the door swung open.

  “What...oh, Mr. Rebel.” The judge stood there in his pajamas and bathrobe, with a glass of liquor in his hand. His gray hair was tousled and his features were drawn and haggard. He didn’t even resemble the judge that Egan remembered.

  “Could I speak to you for a minute?” he asked, wondering if he’d made a big mistake in coming here. The man didn’t look to be in a talkative mood.

  The judge held up his glass. “Come on in. I’ll pour you a drink.”

  Egan followed him through a large foyer and then into a study. The man reached for a glass in the liquor cabinet.

  Egan held up his hand. “No, thanks.”

  The judge downed the rest of the liquor in his glass and poured himself another round. “What’s on your mind? Is it about Rachel?”

  “No. I’d like to talk about something else.”

  He sank into his chair. “Go ahead. I have all the time in the world.”

  “I’d like to talk about the sentence you gave me all those years ago.”

  “It was overturned, so I don’t see why you have questions.”

  “At the time I thought the sentence was severe and that you were being judgmental because of my father. You actually mentioned violence in my family, so what else was I to think?”

  The judge leaned forward, a keen look in his eyes. “That remark was out of line and that’s the reason the case was thrown out. I crossed a line for the first time in my career.”

  “Why did you do that?”

  He shrugged and studied the liquor in his glass. “I was having one of those bad days that most judges have. I’d had another case about six months previous. A young man had beaten his wife severely. She forgave him and asked for leniency. Instead of jail time, I ordered a year of counseling. They were going to work on their marriage. That morning I’d heard that he’d beaten her to death.”

  Egan was speechless. He always heard there were two sides to every story, but this was hitting him where he lived—in his heart.

  The judge took a drink from the glass. “I went over your records thoroughly. You were into a lot of trouble in college, DUIs, drinking, fighting, smoking drugs and sneaking into girls’ dorms, causing trouble. Your friends’ records were even worse. You said you didn’t know the guys who robbed the liquor store and killed the man. But they were at that party just like you, and you all mingled with the same crowd of troublemakers. You were headed down a one-way street. Warning lights were flashing, but you didn’t see any of them. You were indignant that anyone would accuse you of anything.”

  Egan sank into a leather chair behind him. The mirror now had a spotlight and he could see the past so clearly. He’d built himself up in his mind as the victim, when in fact he’d been part of the problem. Oh, man.

  “Do you remember that day I sentenced you?”

  “Of course. It’s branded on my brain. You said I needed to be taught a lesson.”

  “I said you nee
ded to learn responsibility for your actions, and prison would give you time to think about what was happening in your life. I knew you’d spend a few months there before your family would get you out. Time enough for you to think about your future and what had happened. Do you remember what occurred next?”

  Egan stared down at his callused hands. “Yes, sir. I became violent, saying you would regret the day you ever sent me to jail. The guards had to drag me out of the courtroom.”

  “And your mother was there.”

  Egan remembered well the look in her eyes that day. For years, he’d felt that shattered expression was because he was going to prison. But it was because he’d been making everything worse with his attitude. Something unfolded inside him, and all the pain he’d been holding suddenly let go, allowing him to see the past differently. Everything he’d done had been in rebellion, triggered by the death of his father.

  “I always liked John Rebel. He was a good man, and for the record, I would have done exactly what he did if someone had attempted to shoot my kids. Most people in Horseshoe felt the same way. That’s why the grand jury no-billed him.” The judge took another drink. “A father should always protect his children. I used to be my daughter’s hero, but now she has another hero.”

  Hollister gulped another drink. “Did she tell you I cheated on her mother? Yep, I did, and there’s no way around that. She’ll never look at me again the way she did—with stars in her eyes because I was her daddy, the man who could do no wrong.” A credit card lay on the desk and he pushed it toward Egan. “That’s her credit card. She told me she doesn’t need it anymore and that she can support herself. My baby is in New York alone and I don’t know if she’s hungry or needs anything, because I know she will never call me. So, Mr. Rebel, if you want me to suffer, you’re too late. I’m already suffering.”

  Egan got to his feet and took the glass out of the judge’s hand.

  “Hey...”

  “You’ve had enough,” Egan told him in a steely voice. “Go upstairs, take a shower, shave and call your daughter. Tell her you’re sorry and tell her you love her. That’s all it takes. Then ask if she’s okay and if she needs anything. She will respond in kind. I know Rachel that well. Stop feeling sorry for yourself and stand up and take control of your life again. That’s what I’m going to do, Judge.”

  The older man stood on wobbly legs. “No one tells me what to do in my own home.”

  Egan took a step closer to the desk. “If you want your daughter to respect you again, you’ll do as I’m telling you. Or you will lose her forever. Your choice, sir.” He turned toward the door.

  “Mr. Rebel.” The judge’s voice stopped him.

  “Thank you for saving my daughter’s life. Twice.”

  Egan tipped his hat. “You’re welcome.” He walked out of the house and into the bright sunshine, feeling free for the first time in fourteen years. Really free.

  He headed toward Rebel Ranch and his mind was as clear as it had ever been. It was time to live again, and sleep in a bed instead of on the cold hard ground. He’d done his penance, and on this day when he’d faced his past, he forgave himself.

  Now, he was going to have lunch with his family, and tonight he would sleep in his bed on sheets that still held the scent of Rachel. And he would think about her and wonder if there was any hope for them. Probably not. He had nothing to offer her. He was a broke cowboy, living on the family ranch. Rachel was used to the finer things in life and he couldn’t offer her that. Besides, she was in New York and he was here in Horseshoe.

  He would probably never see Rachel Hollister again, but he would remember her for the rest of his life. They’d shared a moment out of time—never to be forgotten.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Rachel settled into her old life with ease, except for the broken heart. There was no way around that, but the kids in school made life bearable. It was nearing the end of term and everyone was excited. Their last art project was an original work that would account for half their semester grade. She had so many talented children with a keen eye for darks and lights and colors. Some were painting still lifes, some were doing portraits and others, landscapes. Each had a unique talent she found it a joy to nurture.

  Rachel and her roommate had always been good friends, and they got along really well until Della’s boyfriend began to spend nights at their apartment. It was a two-bedroom, one-bath apartment, and having an extra person afoot was becoming crowded. But Rachel didn’t want to tell her to move, because then she wouldn’t be able to afford the rent. It was a no-win situation. She kept hoping the boyfriend would find his own place. He lived with his parents in Brooklyn and normally commuted. It was much easier to stay with Della and not face the long subway ride.

  There was never enough food in the apartment because Neil ate everything. On her way home from work Rachel stopped to pick up a few groceries for herself. Della and Neil were going out. On her way to pay for yogurt and salad fixings, she spied a display of SpaghettiOs. Unable to resist, she walked over and picked up a can, thoughts of Egan filling her mind. Oddly enough, that day at the cabin when they’d sat on the stoop seemed like one of the happiest memories of her life. Because she’d been with Egan. Any place on earth was good as long as she was with him. Now wasn’t that a sad thought? They were thousands of miles away from each other, but he was in her heart and always would be.

  She bought the SpaghettiOs just because...

  She had a quiet evening alone and that really got to her. In this big city, with its millions of people, she’d never felt more alone in her life. New York wasn’t the same anymore. Egan wasn’t here.

  Her dad called and they had a nice conversation. He said he was sorry and that he loved her. It brought tears to her eyes and she realized she missed being home. She missed Egan.

  About one in the morning she heard noises coming from Della’s room. Loud, amorous noises, and it irritated her. She had to talk to Della. The next morning as she dressed for work she stared at the can of SpaghettiOs on her desk. There was only one place she wanted to be and she was tired of trying to make things work here in New York when she was lonely. She had two more days of school and she would be free to do what she wanted.

  Della was making coffee when Rachel entered the kitchen. “Could we talk for a minute?” she asked.

  Her roommate brushed back her long dark tangled hair. “I’ve been meaning to ask you the same thing.” She worked in fashion and her life was busy, hectic and colorful.

  “It’s about the apartment,” Rachel added.

  Della swung around from the counter. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

  “I’ve decided to return to my hometown. I know we have a lease for six more months.” Rachel glanced toward Della’s closed bedroom door. “I was hoping Neil would...”

  “Oh, Rachel.” Her friend hugged her. “Things are getting a little crowded here and we were thinking about moving. But if you’re leaving, we’ll stay. It’s wonderful. I don’t know where we’d find an apartment like this we could afford, on such short notice.”

  They hugged again and Della ran to tell Neil.

  By the end of the week Rachel had made life-changing decisions. She resigned her post at the school. She called Hardy and asked if she could stay in the house until she found a place to live. That was important to her. She had to be on her own and not underfoot with his family or her father. She knew they loved her, but they deserved their own life, too.

  It was mid-June when she hugged Della and said goodbye to the big city. It was a bittersweet moment. There was a lot she loved about New York, but she was really a small-town girl. Hardy picked her up at the airport and she went home—for good this time. Right or wrong, she’d made the decision.

  Monday morning she met with the superintendent of Horseshoe schools for an interview for a teaching job. She knew her name would weigh a lot in her favor, but she was a good teacher and her credentials should stand for themselves. The next day the su
perintendent called and said she had the job of art teacher for grades six through twelve. She celebrated with her family. Her dad was even there, and though their relationship was strained, they were getting along, and that’s what counted.

  As Wyatt had predicted, Izzy was sentenced to a state mental facility. Rachel had no argument with that. The man was mentally unbalanced, but she was sure his recent actions had escalated the Rebel-McCray feud.

  She had about two months to spend with Erin and the baby until school started, and she was going to enjoy every minute. They swam in the pool and she chaperoned Erin and her friends and played with the baby. He had grown so much since she’d been gone. Rachel was happy, except for one thing. Egan had not made one move to see her. She wasn’t quite sure why she’d expected he would, since he’d made it plain they had no future.

  She would give him time before she made her move. One reason—okay, the main reason she’d returned home was because of Egan, and she had to see him one way or another. And she had to live with his response. Maybe that’s why it was taking her so long to visit Rebel Ranch.

  * * *

  HAY-BALING SEASON was long and physically draining. The Sanchez family had most of the hay baled, and Egan and his brothers were getting alfalfa bales packed into barns and the coastal stacked in rows along fence lines. Some they would sell, but first they would make sure they had enough to feed their large herd and their horses through the winter.

  He was dirty, tired and eager for a shower. At the barn, he parked the tractor with a long flatbed trailer attached, and jumped off. His brothers were also finishing for the day.

  “Another day of hauling and we should have it,” Falcon said, wiping sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his shirt.

  Paxton slapped the dust from his jeans. “Phoenix and I have a rodeo this weekend, so we’ll be gone.”

  Elias lay sprawled on some alfalfa bales, but at Paxton’s words he sat up. “You always leave when there’s work to be done.”

  “Shut up, Elias. I don’t feel like fighting with you today.”