Saving Hope: Men of the Texas Rangers Book 1

by Margaret Daley

  “My parents didn’t tell me much, but that things were settled. I’m glad you came. I know they thought they were protecting me, but I had so many questions I wanted answered and they were not in the mood to answer.”

  “In all fairness they probably didn’t know the answers.”

  Kate laughed, “I can’t believe you’re defending them.”

  He bent forward, a smoldering look in his eyes. “We have a lot—”

  The door swung open and Susan, Rose, Cynthia, and a couple of more girls flooded the room, carrying flowers and balloons. “We are here to cheer you up.”

  “Jack’s nephew hasn’t said anything yet to the police?” Kate said coming into her living room and making a full circle. “How do I look?”

  Wyatt grinned. “Are you fishing for a compliment?”

  “Yes. Do you think I can wow the media in this?”

  “If you’re talking about the sling, it should get some sympathy coverage. Your story has been in the news quite a bit lately.”

  “I didn’t know I had to get kidnapped to get donations. I prefer not having to repeat that in the future. Not a fundraiser I would recommend.” She adjusted her black sling lying over her white lacy blouse. “I’m ready to conquer—” She turned toward Wyatt and stopped in mid-sentence.

  The strong set of his jaw attested to his equally strong emotions. “We’ve both been so busy this past week with all that has happened. We’ve never talked about what happened.”

  “Yes, we did. King is dead. Rose is safe. You are rounding up all the people involved.”

  He bridged the distance between them but paused a couple of feet from her as though not sure if he should come any closer. “When you were kidnapped, all I could think about was I would lose another person I was in love with. I didn’t think I could—”

  “Hold it.” She cut the space between them. “Did you just tell me you love me?”

  “Yes, but that’s not—”

  Sheer joy infused every inch of her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and tugged him toward her. “You can stop right there. I don’t need to hear anything else.” Their lips met in a deep kiss.

  Finally, he pulled back, setting her at arm’s length. “But I need to tell you something.” He sucked in a deep breath. “I’m not very good at this. You saw the mess I made with Maddie. Nine years ago, my wife was killed right in front of me by an escaped convict, and I couldn’t stop it. I shut down my emotions—if I didn’t feel, then it wouldn’t hurt so much. But you came along and I couldn’t continue to do what I was doing and not feel. The Lord had something else in mind for me. He sent you to wake me up. Then you almost died and again, I couldn’t stop it. I saw you go down and I thought I was hit. I wish it had been me, instead of you.”

  Kate’s heart swelled. She moved to him and laid her fingers over his mouth. “Shh. Don’t you want to know I love you. I didn’t think I had time for my program and love, but somehow I want it to work out. I can’t see living without you in my life.”

  A softness touched his eyes as he hauled her against him and kissed her again. “I want you in my life too.”

  “I want that too, but Wyatt, I’m going to run Beacon of Hope. Will you be all right with that?”

  He smiled. “That’s who you are. I expected that. Lately I’ve been thinking. What about moving Beacon of Hope to my ranch?”

  “Your ranch?”

  “I think the girls would benefit from living somewhere like that. Away from the city. It’s nothing that has to be decided right away, but a thought we can consider.”

  We. She loved that word. A team. Yes, it felt so right. She gave him another kiss, wishing there weren’t people downstairs waiting for her.

  A knock at the door parted Kate and Wyatt. “The masses are demanding our appearance. I wonder who it is, Rose or Cynthia?”

  Wyatt took her hand and headed across the living room. When he opened the door, he laughed. “Neither one.”

  Kate smiled. “Maddie, I’m so glad you could come. Where’s your grandmother?”

  “Downstairs helping put the food out. The first guests are here. Are you ready?”

  “Yes.” Kate calmed herself as she made her way down to the first floor.

  Gregory sat next to his lawyer in the interview room at the police station. He just wanted to get this over with after a week sitting in jail. On the advice of his attorney, this was his best chance to still have a life after he served his time—if he gave them what they wanted.

  “The DA has agreed to the terms if the information you provide leads to Littleton’s partner,” Detective Finch said across the table from him.

  “You won’t regret it. My uncle said his partner was the brains behind the setup in the first place years ago.”

  “Who is this partner?”

  Two hours later the recreation room was crowded with media, some of the teenage girls who wanted to be personally involved with the fundraiser, helpers, and people interested in Beacon of Hope. Kate watched her mother move through the throng as if this was an event she’d planned. For the past week, Kate had been the darling of the press in the area, and her mother was slowly coming around to the fact that her daughter wasn’t going to change. She had even agreed to match the money raised today. It was a start.

  The only damper on the event was the open animosity between her mother and Charlene Foster. Even across the room, Kate felt the tension between the women, although both smiled and, when forced, conversed. But the look in their eyes—hard, assessing, calculating—told a different story.

  “Time for my little spiel.” Kate slanted a look at Wyatt. “I speak in front of groups all the time, but I wasn’t counting on Mother being here.”

  He took her hand. “You’ll do beautifully. Everyone in this room wants Beacon of Hope to succeed, including your parents.”

  Kate started for the front of the room. Turning to face the media and potential donors, she smiled and signaled for quiet. As the conversation tapered off, Detective Finch and another officer entered and worked their way toward Wyatt. When the detective spoke to Wyatt, he scowled and glanced toward her, then headed for her with Detective Finch behind him.

  Her heartbeat slowed. Something was wrong. She stiffened, preparing herself for bad news. But Wyatt and the detective stopped short of Kate in front of Charlene Foster and her husband.

  “You’re under arrest for child prostitution, trafficking, and conspiracy,” Wyatt said to Mr. Foster while Detective Finch locked handcuffs around the businessman’s wrist.

  Charlene’s mouth dropped open. All color siphoned from her face. “This is a mistake. Tell them, Kenneth.”

  “Of course, this is a mistake,” the man said while flashes went off as the reporters moved in.

  Kate remained back while people swarmed forward, eager for the scoop. Wyatt pushed his way through the crowd toward her as Detective Finch and the officer took hold of their suspect and headed toward the exit. The noise level in the room rose to a din.

  Kate sank against the podium, the muscles in her neck bunched and knotted.

  Wyatt put his hand on her shoulder and kneaded it. “Littleton’s nephew just gave up Kenneth Foster as his uncle’s partner in the prostitution ring. His trucking company is involved in the transportation of their victims to different parts of this country as well as into Mexico.”

  “I can’t believe it.”

  Wyatt nodded toward Charlene Foster. “It looks like his senator wife can’t either.”

  “Do you think she knew what her husband was doing?”

  “Littleton’s nephew was very specific and told the police where his uncle kept records on his dealings with Kenneth Foster. But I suspect her career in government is over with.”

  “What about Beacon of Hope?”

  “Have you stopped and added up the amount the people have been pledging to the program?”

  “No, but the contributions I’ve received have been substantial and I was notified yesterday about that
grant.”

  “See, you’re going to be all right.” Wyatt peered across the room at Kate’s parents, watching as Kenneth Foster was hauled away. “I have a feeling your mother and father aren’t going to let you down either. That wouldn’t look good in the press.”

  Kate went into Wyatt’s arms. “Anything is possible through the Lord.”

  Discussion Questions

  Kate Winslow had trouble dealing with her mother. She never felt like she could please her. What kind of relationship do you have with your parents? How have you dealt with problems with your parents? How can you improve your relationship with your parents?

  Rose was determined to save Lily, even to the point of putting herself in danger. She felt guilty about Lily’s situation. What are some things you’ve done to make yourself feel better when you felt guilty?

  Who is your favorite character? Why?

  Wyatt Sheridan is having problems with his daughter. She wants more independence, but he isn’t ready to give it to her. If you had been in Wyatt’s situation, how would you have dealt with Maddie’s disobedience? How do you let a teenager become independent but still safe?

  Kate tries to help girls that many people have written off. She tries to give these girls a second chance. If you were asked to help girls like Rose, what would you do?

  When Rose was held captive, she kept remembering Kate’s advice. What Kate said gave Rose hope and courage. Do you have something or someone who gives that to you? Have you done that for another? If so, what have you said to them?

  What is your favorite scene? Why?

  Did you know who was King’s partner? If so, what gave the partner away?

  Maddie defied her father and went to meet Tyler. Something told her not to call Tyler when the truck stopped in the middle of the parking lot. If she had, she would have been kidnapped. Have you ever felt something wasn’t right, but you couldn’t say why? What was the situation? How did it turn out?

  Our children are our future. How can we protect our children from predators in our society? How do we teach them to be careful, to be wary of predators?

  In this story, the importance of forgiving is explored, especially with Wyatt and what happened to his wife. Why is it important to forgive others and ourselves? What happens when we live in the past rather than look forward to the future? Which do you focus on— past, present, or future? Why?

  This is a book about hope in the time of tragedy. How can we give hope to another in his or her time of need?

  Cynthia cut herself. She didn’t have a constructive way to express her frustration and anger. What could she have done besides cutting herself to relieve her frustration and anger? How do you deal with your frustration? With your anger?

  Kate had a strong faith, but there were times during the story when her faith wavered. What has caused your faith to waver? How do you get it back on track? What strengthens your faith?

  Shattered Silence

  Book 2 of Men of the Texas Rangers Series

  1

  Day One

  No one sees me. They walk right by me and don’t even know I am here. I’m invisible.

  But that’s all going to change today. The woman who has agreed to marry me will be here soon. The world will finally know someone cares about me. It was worth all my savings to bring her across the border. I’m tired of being alone. Being nobody.

  I’m getting married. I won’t be invisible anymore—at least she’ll see me.

  Maria Martinez lay flat on the dust-covered wooden planks, her right eye pressed against the hole in the floor of the abandoned house. Pedro won’t find me here. I’ll win this time.

  A sneeze welled up in Maria, and she fought to stop it. She couldn’t. Quickly she looked through the small opening to make sure Pedro hadn’t come and heard her. Her older brother always thought he could do everything better than her. Not this time. He’d never think to look here. He’d think she was too afraid to hide here. A rattling behind her sent a shot of fear through her. She went still. Her lungs held her breath and wouldn’t let go.

  There’s no such thing as ghosts. He just told me that to scare me. I’m not a baby. I’m eight.

  Her words fueled her courage, and she popped up to look over her shoulder. Nothing. Just the wind blowing through the broken window. Maria sank to the floor in relief and took up her post again. Watching through the hole. If Pedro came into the house, she’d be ready to hide. He was not going to find her. For once, she would have the last laugh. He was just two years older, but the way he acted, you’d think he was Papa.

  Another sound caught her attention. Down below. Footsteps. She started to hop up and scramble to her hiding place nearby, but a gruff, deep male voice stopped her. Not Pedro. Who?

  With her eye glued to the hole again, she waited to see who it was. Another voice—a woman’s—answered the man then she laughed. A funny laugh—like Pedro when he made fun of her.

  “Dumb. Evil eye,” the woman taunted in Spanish.

  The man raised his voice, speaking in the same language so fast Maria had a hard time keeping up. Mama insisted on only speaking English at home. Now she wished she was better at Spanish. But she heard some words—the ones he slowed and emphasized, repeating several times in a louder voice a few cuss words that got Papa in trouble if he said them at home. The deep gruff voice ended with, “You will pay.”

  The woman laughed again, but the sound died suddenly. “What are you doing?” she said in Spanish.

  Maria strained to see the two people. The lady moved into her line of sight as she stepped back, shaking her head, her long brown hair swirling in the air. Maria glimpsed the top of a tan cowboy hat that hid the man’s face from her.

  The beautiful lady held up her hands. “No!”

  The fear in that one word chilled Maria.

  Before she could think of what to do, a gunshot, like she’d heard on TV, blasted the quiet. The lady jerked back. She glanced down at her chest, then up, remaining upright for a few heartbeats before crumbling to the floor.

  Maria froze. Her mind blanked.

  The man came closer to the still lady on the floor, her unseeing dark eyes staring right at Maria, pinning her against the wooden planks. She saw the gun as he lifted his arm and aimed it at the woman. He shot her in the stomach then the forehead.

  Maria gasped.

  The man must have whirled away. Suddenly he wasn’t in her line of vision. She bolted to her feet as the sound of heavy footsteps coming up the stairs echoed down the hallway.

  Terror locked a vise about Maria and held her in place.

  Then her gaze latched onto her hiding place—one she’d found when she’d first come to the house. She’d laughed out loud that her brother would never find her there. Now she wasn’t so sure it was perfect.

  But the approaching footfalls prodded her into action. She had no other choice. She clambered toward the couch as quietly as she could. She ripped the seat cushion off and squeezed herself into the small place someone must have used before. The pounding of her heartbeat in her ears drowned out the sound of his footsteps.

  The man threw open a door at the end of the hall. The slam of it against the wall startled Maria as she set the cushion over her like a shield a knight used in a movie she’d seen. When he stormed a castle hundreds of arrows rained down on him. He had survived. Could she?

  The scent of mold and dust threatened to set off her sneezing. She held her hand over her mouth and nose praying that would stop her from making any sound.

  As the man’s footsteps came nearer, her heartbeat reverberated against her skull, again overriding all other sounds. Surely he could hear it. Find her.

  Please, Lord, help me. Mama said you protect children.

  But not her prayers or her fear calmed her thundering heartbeats. The racket grew louder inside her chest and clamored in her ears. Her head spun. She uncovered her mouth to try and breathe deeply. She couldn’t get enough air.

  The door opened, slamming against the
wall.

  She flinched, hoping the seat cushion hadn’t moved.

  Please. Please, Lord. I’ll be good.

  The footsteps approached the center of the room.

  Lightheaded, Maria closed her eyes as if that would hide her from the bad man. Something scurried over her leg. Something big. A rat? The urge to flee her hiding place robbed her of any thoughts. She curled herself into the tightest ball she could and prayed, her chest rising and falling so rapidly the darkness continued to swirl behind her closed eyelids.

  An eternity passed. A brush of whiskers reinforced her fright. She tensed, expecting any second the cushion being wrenched off her hiding place or sharp teeth sinking into her flesh. A warm gush between her legs and the odor of pee heightened her terror. He would smell it and . . .

  I’m going to die. Mama . . .

  Liliana Rodriguez sat across from her older sister at the Bluebonnet Cafe in Durango, Texas, waiting for the waitress to bring their sandwiches. She leaned across the table and lowered her voice to a fierce whisper. “I don’t want to hear those bruises are from an accident, Elena. We both know who did that to you. Samuel, your low-down excuse for a husband.”

  Her sister’s dark eyes clouded, her brow knitted. “Oh, no, I really did get up in the middle of the night and run into the wall.”

  “Yeah, after he tripped you.” Liliana lifted her iced tea, hoping the cold drink would cool the fire in her belly.

  “No. No, don’t say that. He’s a good husband and father. Like Papa.”

  Liliana choked on the swallow of liquid sliding down her throat. Coughing, she nearly dropped her glass as her eyes watered.