A Texas Family

by Linda Warren

  “No. Do whatever you want. We can paint it.”

  “I’m thinking something fresh and bright.” Laughter could be heard from upstairs. “It’s nice to have a little happiness in this house for a change.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  Aunt Fran kissed his cheek. “Night.”

  “Night.”

  Carson walked into the den. Barbie dolls and their clothes were strewn on the floor. He picked up one of the dolls and Jena walked in.

  “They’re out for the night,” she said, bending to gather Barbie clothes.

  Carson wasn’t sure how to start the conversation so, of course, he blurted out, “You’re leaving?”

  She straightened. “Yes.”

  “Does Trey know?”

  “Yes. He knows I’m a part of his life now. He trusts me to never hurt him.” Her eyes narrowed. “Unlike his father.”

  “Oh, God.” He jammed a hand through his hair. “Jena, it’s just I don’t know what you’re thinking or feeling. We don’t talk like we used to.”

  “You want to know what I’m thinking. I have a job and an apartment in Dallas. I’m returning to give my boss notice I’m quitting, but he’s probably figured that out since I’ve been gone so long. He’s a nice man and I’m hoping he’ll just let me go instead of working two more weeks. I also have to let the apartment manager know I’m leaving and I have to pack everything. But I’m coming home to Willow Creek for good. Hilary said she’d give me a job at the café if I need one.”

  The pain around his heart eased. “I’m sorry. I just had this sense I was losing my kid and you.”

  She shook her head. “Carson, when I take him out, do you want to know what he talks about? Daddy. Daddy this and Daddy that. He has you on a pedestal. I just want to share a little part of that pedestal. Can you trust me enough to believe that?”

  “Yes,” he replied without having to think about it. “The logical answer is for us to get married and raise him together.”

  She frowned. “Did a buzzer go off in your head when you said that? Marriage is about two people in love who can’t live without each other. It’s not a logical answer.”

  He ran a hand through his hair again. “I’m getting this all wrong. I’m tired of arguing when all I want to do is this.” Dropping the doll, he stepped closer to her and cupped her face with both hands and kissed her with a fierce need. She moaned and wrapped her arms around his neck. The kiss went on and on and all the confusion and mistrust seemed to disappear.

  He leaned his forehead against hers. “I’ve wanted to do that for days.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “Scared.” He took her lips briefly. “I’m doing it right this time. Jena Brooks, will you marry me? I love you. And I really can’t live without you. I actually become an idiot when you’re not around.”

  She laughed, a warm bubbly sound that chased away all his fears. “I love you, too.”

  Wrapping his arms tighter around her, he kissed the warm hollow of her neck. “Ah. What’s that fragrance on your skin? It drives me crazy.”

  “Sweet pea. It’s a body lotion,” she murmured.

  “Spend the night with me.”

  “Carson...”

  “Shh.” He ran his hand beneath her knit top, stroking her warm, unbelievable smooth skin. “Let’s just think about us. We have the den to ourselves. We’ll turn out the light and...”

  “O-kay.” Her breath was urgent against his skin.

  Her fingers unbuttoned his shirt and he sighed as they tumbled onto the sofa. Wrapped in her arms, there was no doubt happiness had finally found a home on the Bar C.

  EPILOGUE

  One year later...

  “ARE YOU WATCHING ME, Mama?” Trey called, casting his line into the water.

  “Yes, sweetie, I’m watching you,” she called back. It was hard to take her eyes off him. Sometimes at night she’d go into his room just to make sure he was there.

  Jena sat on a quilt beneath a large live oak. Carson lay with his head in her lap. As she ran her fingers through his hair, he opened his eyes and looked at her with a content expression.

  “Happy?” he asked.

  “Yes, and I know what that feels like now. After everything that happened in this small town, I never dreamed happiness would be waiting for me here.”

  “It is.” He stroked her cheek. “After what you’ve been through, you deserve it.”

  She caught his fingers and kissed each one. “A whole year and I’m still so in love with you.”

  He scooted to sit beside her. “When Claire had the flu and you sat up with her all night, I knew I’d never loved anyone the way I love you.”

  She brushed away a tear. “We’re getting maudlin.”

  “Mmm.”

  Claire was picking up rocks and she was getting too far away to suit Jena. “Claire, baby, come back this way.”

  “Where did she get that floppy hat and old Easter basket?”

  “When we cleaned out Aunt Fran’s room for her to move downstairs, Claire latched on to them and Aunt Fran gave them to her.”

  He entwined the fingers of one hand with hers. “I like what we did with Jared’s old room.”

  “Me, too.” When they’d cleaned out the room, they’d decided to repaint and to make the room bright and sunny. They were big on diminishing depressing memories. They’d cleaned out the basement, too, and Hilary had painted colorful murals all over it. The kids used it as a playroom.

  Trey never talked about his biological father and Jena knew he didn’t want to be disloyal to Carson. But someday he would ask and they would be there to love and support him.

  Claire came running and plopped onto Jena’s lap. “I’m tired.”

  Jena removed Claire’s hat, lifting the braided pigtails from her damp neck. “You’re sweating.”

  Claire nuzzled against her and Jena loved the child as if she were her own. She had two kids and she loved them dearly.

  The past year had been replete with happiness from the start. They were married in the small church Jena and Hilary had attended with their mother as kids. Trey stood up for his father, Hilary was Jena’s bridesmaid and Claire a flower girl. It was a private ceremony with their closest friends. But as they said their vows the small church began to fill up with the people from Willow Creek. As they walked out, everyone clapped. The support and friendly faces were a sign of good things to come. The truth had truly set everyone free.

  Jena was a full-time mother now and she loved it. She helped out at the school and had been elected to the school board. Her heart was full.

  “Mama, Daddy,” Trey screamed.

  They were on their feet in a heartbeat and running to the water.

  “I think I got Ol’ Big. He’s pulling me in. Daddy!” Trey kept screaming.

  Carson kicked off his sandals and hurried into the water. “Hold on, son.”

  Jena did the same with her sandals and rushed to help. That fish was not getting her son.

  Reaching for the rod, Carson caught it and pulled it up. “Reel, son, reel.”

  Jena wrapped her arms around Trey’s waist. “I got you.”

  Claire, not wanting to be left out, tromped into the water and held on to Jena.

  Trey kept reeling, his little chest pounding.

  Carson grabbed the line with one hand. “Back up,” he said, and they slowly inched out of the water.

  The fish fought vigorously, the big splashes giving them a bath, but Carson and Trey finally maneuvered the fish onto the bank.

  Trey knelt by it. “Look at him, Daddy. Look how big he is!”

  “Is it a whale?” Claire asked, kneeling by her brother.

  Carson squatted. “No, baby, it’s a yellow cat. Probably about thirty pou
nds.”

  “It can’t breathe, Daddy.” Claire pointed to the fish’s gills, which were working feverishly.

  “What do you want to do, son?”

  Trey touched the wet fish. “Ol’ Big’s a legend in Willow Creek. We have to let him go.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah.” Trey nodded.

  “I’ll get my phone,” Jena said. “I want a picture to put up in school and in Trey’s room.”

  She snapped several with Trey and Claire by the fish, and then they all pushed it back into the water. It kicked and splashed and swam away.

  They sat on the bank. Carson put his arm around her. Claire sat on his lap and Trey scooted close to her.

  “Honey, did your phone get wet?” Jena asked.

  “No,” Carson answered. “It’s in my shirt pocket.”

  “We don’t want to miss the call.” Abby was about to give birth at any minute and they wanted to be there for the James family as they’d been there for them.

  Claire sat up straight. “Are we getting a baby, too?”

  Carson rubbed her shoulder as she sought for a response.

  “No,” Trey replied before she or Carson could. “Mama has us. We don’t need another baby.”

  It was as if he knew there wouldn’t be any more children. The thought didn’t sting as before. She had all she ever wanted and more.

  “We’re wet again,” Trey commented.

  “Thank God I didn’t have on my boots,” Carson said.

  “We should get cleaned up,” she remarked, but no one seemed inclined to move. The wind played with the willow branches hanging in the water. Peace settled in her heart. Trey rested against her and she hugged him. Claire wiggled onto her lap and laid her head on Jena’s chest. Kissing the child’s soft cheek, Jena lifted her head to gaze into Carson’s warm green eyes and saw her future filled with love—his love. She’d found heaven.

  Maybe she was a fairy-tale type of girl, after all.

  * * * * *

  Watch for Levi’s story in the next book from Linda Warren’s WILLOW CREEK, TEXAS series, A TEXAS CHILD, coming December 2013, only from Harlequin Superromance.

  Keep reading for an excerpt from IN THIS TOGETHER by Kara Lennox.

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  CHAPTER ONE

  TRAVIS RIGGS LOOKED up at the imposing wrought-iron gate, and for the first time in his life he knew what the word awe truly meant. Who the hell had a gate like this? Who needed a gate like this? What was Daniel Logan protecting? This ostentatious show of wealth didn’t jibe with the Daniel Logan he’d heard about, the one who’d spent six years on death row for a murder he didn’t commit, the one who’d devoted his life to helping other men and women who’d been falsely convicted of serious crimes.

  He wondered if this was some wild-goose chase.

  Still, Travis had come too far to turn back. Whoever Daniel Logan was, he was the last hope for saving Eric. Travis had put on his best shirt and his newest pair of jeans, the ones that weren’t yet paint spattered. His work boots weren’t exactly classy, but it was that or beat-up athletic shoes. He didn’t have much call for dressing up in his normal life.

  Taking a deep breath, he pushed the buzzer.

  “Yes, may I help you?” The husky female voice was unexpected. Whoever she was, she had an accent, not strong but exotic nonetheless. A picture came into his mind of a sultry Spanish flamenco dancer.

  “Yes, my name is Travis Riggs. I’ve come to see Daniel Logan.”

  “Do you have an appointment?”

  “No, I’m sorry, I don’t.” Every time he thought about his unsuccessful phone calls to Project Justice, his blood boiled. I’m sorry, you’ll have to fill out the online form. No matter what he said, he got the same response. Even when he’d gone in person to the foundation’s physical address in downtown Houston, he still couldn’t get anywhere. An elderly dragon of a woman had barred his way and insisted the online form was the only method open to him.

  “I’m very sorry,” the flamenco dancer said, “but Mr. Logan’s schedule is full. To see him, you have to have an appointment.”

  “I tried to make an appointment.” Travis kept a death grip on his temper. “But they kept telling me I had to go online and fill out a form.”

  “Oh...you’re here because of Project Justice?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” If he could just keep the mystery woman from cutting him off, he was sure he could talk his way through this impenetrable gate. He was hopeless with online forms, but he could be very persuasive with women. Younger ones, anyway.

  “So, may I ask why you didn’t fill out the form?”

  “I did. At least, I think I did.” He’d gone to the public library to use their computer, but computer skills weren’t his strong suit. “I got stuck in a loop that kept taking me back to the same page, and then I kept getting these error messages...” By the time his thirty minutes were up, he’d been ready to bash his head through the computer screen. He’d hit the submit button, but he still wasn’t sure exactly what he’d submitted.

  “I’m sorry you had such a bad experience.” The funny thing was she actually sounded like she was sorry. “Maybe you could get someone to help you?”

  Like who? All of his many friends? He’d pretty much lost touch with everybody he’d ever been close to, except Eric. Eric was the one constant in his life. And he was not going to abandon his cause. Ever.

  “With all due respect, ma’am, I’ve kind of run out of options. I’m up against a deadline. My brother’s going to lose his little girl.” Travis realized then there was a security camera above him. The woman with the sexy voice was probably watching his every move, yet he had no idea what she looked like.

  “You have a friend or loved one who is in prison?” she asked, sounding curious.

  “Yes, ma’am. My little brother, Eric. I can promise you on a stack of Bibles he didn’t do it. He would never kill his wife. He loved her. He never raised a hand to her, and he certainly would never do what they said he did.”

  “Has he exhausted his appeals? Is he on death row?”

  “He was sentenced to life in prison without parole. And he’s still appealing—but like I said, he’s about to lose his daughter. She’s going to be adopted by her horrid foster parents. MacKenzie is the only link he has to Tammy. I have to do something. It’s not fair.”

  Travis had intended to keep his emotions out of it. But every time he thought about MacKenzie moving on to new parents, calling some other people Mommy and Daddy, his throat closed up and his eyes burned. Eric had been the best father in the world. From the time baby MacKenzie had come home from the hospital, Eric had changed her diapers and fed her, helped with 2:00 a.m. feedings, gone with Tammy to take the baby for doctor visits. The sun had risen and set with that little girl. And now he couldn’t even see her, except for sporadic and very brief visits with a glass partition between them.

  “Just a minute,” Ms. Sexy Voice said. “I will talk to Mr. Logan and see if he can spare a few minutes. Your brother is Eric? Eric Riggs?”

  “Yes.” She probably recognized the ca
se. The entire trial had been televised on some cable station.

  “Please be patient. Sometimes it takes a while to pin Daniel down to a conversation.”

  Travis would be patient. He would stand outside this house all day and all night if he had to. But somebody had to listen to him.

  * * *

  ELENA MARQUEZ TURNED OFF the mic, but she continued to regard their visitor on the monitor. He was a man of uncommon handsomeness—not like a pretty-boy movie star, but more like a cowboy riding the fences—dark, glossy hair, rugged, tanned. A face of harsh planes and angles that somehow fit together pleasingly.

  But the world was full of handsome men. It was the emotion in his voice—and on his face—that moved her. Normally, if some stranger came to the gate, security turned them away—period. Daniel Logan, with his extreme wealth, was a target for all kinds of kooks and terrorists. Today, however, Elena was sitting in for their regular security guy while he was on his lunch break. They were short staffed; it was holiday season, and the flu was running rampant among the employees. She’d just gotten over it herself.

  She would talk to Daniel.

  Abandoning her post by the front-gate monitor, she made her way through the house to the elevator, then descended to Daniel’s lair. That’s what everyone called it. Down here he had his office, which looked something like NASA’s Mission Control. He sat in the middle of a horseshoe-shaped desk he’d had custom-made out of some exotic wood. A minimum of three computers lined up on the desk. Then he had TV screens all around on the walls, tuned to the news and weather channels. And he always had at least three or four cell phones—why anyone needed to have that many, she wasn’t sure. He only had one mouth, but she supposed he could text with one, talk with another and check email with the third.

  When he wanted to take a break, he had his own fully equipped workout room. There was even a dining patio with faux sunlight that looked as if it could have been transported from a Tuscan sidewalk café.