The Wrong Woman

As Serena started for the hall, the kitchen phone rang. Startled, she merely stared at it. She hated answering it these days. It always seemed to be a bill collector.

She took a deep breath and picked up the receiver. “Hello.”

“Ms. Farrell, please.”

“This is Ms. Farrell.”

“This is Mr. Wylie from the bank.” Serena knew exactly who it was. She’d heard his voice more than she wanted to during the past three months. “I’m sorry to bother you on a Saturday, Ms. Farrell, but this is getting serious. We have to have an installment on your grandfather’s note. We can’t continue to let this go on. If we don’t receive at least a partial payment by the end of the next week, we’ll have to start foreclosure proceedings on the house. Your grandfather put it on the note as collateral. There’ll be a notice in the mail.”

Serena swallowed the painful knot in her throat. “I’m doing the best I can, Mr. Wylie.”

“I know, Ms. Farrell, and I hate to do this. I’m aware of your situation, but my superiors are demanding restitution for this loan.”

Serena glanced outside to the beautiful May day. The sun was shining, the trees were flourishing and the grass was greener than it had been even a week ago. A perfect day in an imperfect world. She recognized that now she’d have to do something that would break her heart.

“I’ll be in next week, Mr. Wylie,” she said.

“Oh, Ms. Farrell,” Mr. Wylie replied, surprise in his voice, “I’m so glad. I’m aware that this house has been in your family for years and I hated to take it away from you.”

Serena couldn’t respond, couldn’t say that without this house, her grandmother would lose all hope, all sense of pleasure in life. What she said was, “I’ll see you at the end of the week,” and hung up the phone.

Serena continued down the hall into the den. Her grandmother, Aurora, was reclining in a chair with a blanket over her feet. At seventy-one, Aurora was regal with a polished Southern charm. She had grown up in Georgia and moved to Texas when she was fifteen. Later, she’d married Henry Farrell. They’d had one daughter, Jasmine, who died shortly after a car accident more than thirty years ago. Jasmine was almost nine months pregnant with Serena at the time, and while both parents had died from their injuries, Serena had been safely delivered. After Jasmine’s death, Henry and Aurora had raised Serena.

They gave her a storybook life. They lived in a lovely home in an affluent neighborhood. Serena attended the best schools. Her life was full and happy, and she’d never wanted for anything. After college she’d returned to Fort Worth and gotten a job teaching. She met Brad and they were making plans to get married when her grandfather passed away.

Her life changed that day. While she was still trying to deal with the grief of losing her grandfather, she discovered he was deeply in debt. That storybook life had been a fiction all along, paid for by loans. She’d never discussed finances with her grandfather, so she was unaware of their money problems. His family had owned a pharmaceutical company, which he’d inherited. The company had evidently been in a financial bind, and her grandfather had taken on private investors. The investors soon bought him out, but her grandfather had maintained a position in the firm with a salary—a salary that did not accommodate their lifestyle. His savings were gone and he’d taken out a second mortgage on the house, as well as a series of loans. His life insurance had paid off some of them, but Serena was still struggling to save their home. She’d never had to worry about money before; now it was all she ever thought about.

Her grandfather had tried to shield Gran and her from everything, letting them live in a fictitious world—a world without dark clouds or storms. He used to say, “I want my girls to have nothing but rainbows.” That wasn’t real, though. Now the real world had surfaced with a vengeance, and Serena wasn’t sure how to cope. But she was trying.

Serena kissed her grandmother’s forehead. Aurora opened her eyes, their blue a little faded. “Oh, darling, you’re home.”

She sat on the stool at Aurora’s feet. “We have to talk.”

“It’s about money, isn’t it,” Aurora said tiredly. “You know I don’t like talking about money.”

“We have to,” Serena insisted. “You have to stop spending so much. We don’t have any money,” she said bluntly. “We barely get by with your social security and my paycheck.”

“I don’t understand how we could be broke. Henry always took care of everything. I never had to worry.”

That was the problem, Serena thought. Henry had borrowed and spent more and more to make sure Aurora and Serena had the life he wanted them to have. Serena had explained this repeatedly to Aurora, but she never fully grasped the situation. And to be truthful, Serena wanted her to have the life she was accustomed to, just like her grandfather had. She found herself weakening. She decided against telling Gran about her conversation with Mr. Wylie, even though she knew she should. Aurora would be so distressed, and Serena was determined to avoid that. Besides, she’d figured out a way to stop the foreclosure.

Serena kissed her forehead again. “We’ll talk later,” she said, and headed for the stairs. She’d do anything for her grandmother. That was why she didn’t understand Brad’s attitude. When they found out about her grandfather’s debt, Brad urged her to file for bankruptcy and put her grandmother in a seniors’ home. Serena was appalled at such a suggestion. She’d been raised to be honest, loyal and dedicated to family. Brad was asking her to do something that went against every belief, every instinct she had. They argued back and forth, and finally Serena broke the engagement. She couldn’t live with a man who was so heartless; it made her wonder how long Brad would have stuck by her if she’d taken ill. Not long, she supposed. She didn’t regret her decision.

All her waking hours and many fretful nights were spent thinking of ways to make money. She used her talent as an artist to get a contract with a local greeting-card company, but it took a long time to receive her payments. She also painted portraits. Children were her specialty and she had a number of commissions lined up, but it still wasn’t enough to meet the bills. They would make it, though, she vowed.

She entered her grandparents’ room and stopped for a moment. There were pictures of her all over. The decor was done in different shades of blue, from deep cobalt to baby blue. The bedspread and drapes were a floral chintz, as were the cushions in various chairs. As a child, she’d called this the blue room, and it was her favorite place. Each morning when she woke up, she’d run across the hall to her grandparents’ room and jump into their bed, snuggling between them. So much love, so much happiness… She choked back a sob. She’d wondered many times how her grandfather could do this to them, how he could hide their financial reality, but she knew he’d done it out of love. And now she’d have to do the same thing.

She crossed to the divan in the small sitting room and picked up her grandmother’s purse. She removed a key and walked to the dresser, where she opened her jewelry box. Among the jewels was a small wooden box. Serena popped the lid and stared at the diamond earrings lying on a bed of velvet. Her grandfather had given them to Aurora on their wedding day. They’d belonged to his mother and someday they’d belong to Serena. Jasmine was supposed to have worn them on her own wedding day, but at eighteen she’d eloped, to the heartbreak of Aurora and Henry, especially since they disapproved of her choice of husband. Jasmine became estranged from her parents soon after that. Then she and her husband were killed, and Aurora and Henry gladly took Serena.

Serena didn’t know much about that time, and she knew nothing about her father. Her grandparents refused to even mention his name. They held him responsible for Jasmine’s death. Serena shook her head. She was getting sidetracked.

She glanced down at the diamonds in her hand, remembering how Grandfather had told her she’d wear them at her wedding and her eyes would sparkle as bright as the diamonds. Well, the wedding was off and the only thing that made her eyes sparkle these days was tears.

She took the diamonds across to her room and slipped them into her purse. She’d hock them and buy a fake set, replacing them so her grandmother wouldn’t know. Her eyesight was getting so bad she wouldn’t see the difference. As long as there were earrings in the box, she’d be satisfied. Gran didn’t wear them, anyway. She always wore the diamonds and pearls Grandfather had given her for their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. Serena turned and caught sight of herself in the mirror.

Liar, thief, an unfamiliar red-haired woman seemed to say.

She stepped closer to the mirror. Was that her? She had a desperate look about her that she didn’t recognize.

Oh, God, she was stealing from her grandmother, but what else could she do? Losing the diamonds was better than losing their home, she tried telling the woman in the mirror. Then why did she feel like the lowest creature on earth?

She sank onto the bed and refused to let sentiment drag her down. She had to do this for Gran and herself. She’d do anything to keep Aurora happy and comfortable—even lie and steal. No one was making them leave this house, not as long as she had breath in her body. And if she had a hard time looking at herself, she’d sell all the mirrors, too.

She got up and went to fix lunch. In the doorway she paused and rested her forehead against the doorjamb. The weight of all her problems paralyzed her for a moment. Her grandfather had told her that behind every cloud was a rainbow…not that he acknowledged many clouds in his world. Oh, Grandfather, where’s my rainbow? She needed one—desperately. Just one tiny rainbow. And a handsome stranger with a heart of gold wouldn’t hurt, either. Suddenly Ethan Ramsey flashed into her mind and she thought of the stripper who looked like her. He didn’t seem to be a man who would lie. So was there a woman out there who looked like her? She let herself think about it for a moment. Since she didn’t know anything about her father, there could be a cousin who resembled her, someone she’d never heard of.

She pulled Ethan Ramsey’s card from her pocket. He’d said he wanted to help her. It was probably a line, just as she’d told Daisy. What did it matter? She was wasting her time thinking about it; she had enough problems. On her way out the door, she threw the card in the trash.

CHAPTER TWO

DRIVING HOME, Ethan couldn’t get the redhead out of his mind. Was she an expert liar or was something else going on? The woman of the night before was afraid and had a hard edge that suggested she’d been living a rough lifestyle. He recognized that immediately. The woman today was a complete contradiction. She was softer and had a veneer and polish that came with wealth and privilege. If she was stripping against her will, that would account for the fear he’d seen yesterday, but it didn’t explain the hardness. What was the woman’s secret?

As he drove across the cattle guard, dust spiraled behind him. He was home in Junction Flat, Texas, a small ranching community of less than a thousand near San Antonio. There was a saying in Junction Flat: “Don’t let the mesquite, the cactus and the rattlesnakes get to you. Junction Flat is a good place to live.” And it was—this was where Ethan had always gone when things got too hard, and he planned on staying here for the rest of his life.

A few years ago Pop had given the ranch to his three children, with the stipulation that he be able to live on the property until his death. Molly and Travis didn’t have any interest in ranching and sold their shares to Ethan. So the entire ranch now belonged to Ethan, and he was content living out his retirement in his quiet, rustic hometown.

Before he drove around back to the garage, he noticed Bruce’s Mercedes parked in front of the white sandstone house. He frowned, wondering why his ex-brother-in-law was here. Since the divorce, which was finalized two months ago, Bruce and Molly hadn’t spoken, as far as he knew. There was only one reason Bruce would come out here and face everyone—Cole, his seventeen-year-old son.

When he climbed out of his truck and walked toward the house, he heard raised voices. As soon as he entered the kitchen, everyone grew quiet. Pop was holding Molly, who was sobbing into his chest. Cole was screaming at his father, “Get out and leave us alone!” When he saw Ethan, he said, “Make him leave, Uncle Ethan!”

“Son, I just want to talk to you,” Bruce begged.

“I never want to speak to you again.” With that, Cole turned and stormed out the back door.

Ethan took a long breath. Bruce had a right to see his son, but Cole had refused to see or talk to Bruce since he’d found out about his father’s betrayal. His mother’s pain had only increased the boy’s feelings. The situation was volatile and emotions still ran high. It was time for everyone to cool off.

Ethan looked at Bruce. “I think you’d better go,” he said firmly. He walked to the front door and held it open.

Bruce’s features tightened and Ethan could see he was undecided, but at last made a sound of exasperation and headed for the front door. Ethan followed him out onto the long veranda

“Ethan, I want to talk to my son.” Bruce shoved a hand through his blond hair. His eyes were green like Cole’s.

As much as Ethan hated what Bruce had done to Molly, he understood his desire to see Cole. Cole was the innocent victim in Bruce and Molly’s divorce, and neither seemed willing to make it easier for him.

“He just needs some time,” was the only thing Ethan could think of to say.

“Molly’s turned him against me.”

“Don’t lay that at Molly’s feet,” Ethan told him, although he knew it was partly true. “You’re the reason Cole’s upset. He’s old enough to know what’s going on.”

“You’re a man, Ethan. I thought you’d understand.”

Ethan grunted in disgust. “I understand that a twenty-year-old is more attractive than the thirty-five-year-old mother of your child.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Bruce denied.

“Who are you trying to kid?”

“Molly and I were having problems. You knew that. Hell, everyone knew, but Molly chose to ignore them. She wouldn’t listen to me and I got tired of banging my head against that rock-solid pride of hers.”

Ethan had been away during the early years of Bruce and Molly’s marriage, but since he’d settled in Junction Flat five years ago, he’d become aware of the tension between Molly and Bruce. Last year things had intensified, and Molly had stayed at the ranch some nights because she and Bruce had argued. Bruce worked all the time, she complained, while he said Molly was too involved with Cole’s school. Cole was on various sports teams and Molly never missed a game. Bruce attended as many as he could, but he was often out of town. Another issue between them was that Molly volunteered for anything and everything, even though Bruce had asked her not to. Then, when Bruce was home, he liked to go to the club and play golf. Another problem. Molly hated golf. Their spats never lasted long and by the next morning they always made up. Ethan was careful to stay out of their affairs. He did support his sister, though.

“I don’t want to hear this about Molly,” he said in a warning tone.

“Your sister’s not an easy person to live with.”

“Oh, but she was an easy person to support you while you went to law school. Easy for her to do your cooking and laundry and raise your son.”

“I don’t want to get into it with you, Ethan.”

“Then don’t talk as if Molly’s to blame for all this. You made the choice here.”

“Ethan.” Bruce sighed bleakly. “I can’t lose my son. I can’t.”

The pain in Bruce’s voice touched Ethan, even though he didn’t want it to. He understood a man’s love for his son.

“Cole is seventeen. He’s a kid, yet he’s almost a man. Give him some time and space. Don’t pressure him, Bruce. That’s the only advice I can give you.”

“Ethan—”

Ethan held up a hand when he sensed that Bruce was about to tell him things he didn’t want to hear. “Molly is my sister and I’m on her side. What you did was unconscionable and I can’t condone it. You hurt the two people who loved you the most. Now you have to deal with the consequences.”

Bruce’s eyes darkened, then he glanced toward the corral, where Cole was saddling a horse. As Cole swung into the saddle and set off at a gallop for the woods, Bruce nodded and walked to his car.

ETHAN WENT BACK into the house. Pop was sitting on the sofa with his face in his hands.

“Pop, are you okay?” he asked.

Walt Ramsey raised his head. “Is he gone?”

“Yeah. Where’s Molly?”

“In her room. Every time she sees him, she screams and cries and comes apart at the seams. I don’t know who she is when she acts like that, and I don’t know how to help her.”

At the distress in his father’s voice, Ethan sat beside him. “It’ll get better.”

“I don’t know, son. She’s loved him since she was ten years old. She can’t forget all those years of loving.”

Molly and Bruce had met in fifth grade. When Molly graduated from high school, she was pregnant, and she and Bruce had married soon after. Bruce went to college, then law school, and Molly had worked to support them. She had shouldered the financial responsibility for a lot of years, and now that Bruce was a lawyer and making good money, he’d traded her in for a newer model. At least that was the way Molly put it. She’d never suspected he was sleeping with his new receptionist. The whole sordid mess had devastated Molly…and Cole, too.

“We just have to be here for her.”

“I could kill that bastard with my bare hands.”

That was the sentiment of everyone in the Ramsey family, and Ethan found it difficult at times to control his temper with Bruce, but his ethics prevented him from doing anything stupid. Besides, he knew there was always another side, even if he preferred to ignore it. Family was family, after all, and had to come first. Most importantly, Bruce was Cole’s father, and that one fact kept Ethan grounded enough to have a normal conversation with the man.

“Did you see Travis?”

Ethan looked at his father. “How did you guess I went to see Travis?”

“I know you, son, and you’re doing everything you can for Molly.”

“Yeah, but nothing’s working.”

“So is he still playing in bars and honky-tonks?”

Ethan rubbed his hands together. “He’s still playing in a band, if that’s what you’re asking. He has a steady job with a construction company, but he’s never going to give up his music.”

Pop climbed to his feet. “Got that from your mom’s side of the family. They were always playing and singing somewhere, then the worthless lot wanted me to feed ’em.” He shook his head. “A man should make an honest living for his family. Work hard and forget about havin’ a good time.”

Ethan stood up, too, knowing he had to say something that wasn’t easy. “That’s your way, Pop, but Travis has his own way. That doesn’t mean you’re right and he’s wrong. It just means you’re different, and we have to accept that.”

Pop opened his mouth to object and Ethan stopped him. “Travis is coming home next weekend. For Molly’s sake, I want peace in this house. And a little laughing, playing and singing wouldn’t hurt.”

Pop clamped his lips together, then said, “I’d better check on Cole,” and walked out.

“He’s ridden off into the woods,” Ethan called.

“I’ll find him,” Pop muttered. The back door slammed behind him.

Ethan sighed. Did old wounds ever heal? He could only hope so. Well, next weekend would have to be a start. He headed toward Molly’s room, then spotted her in the kitchen.

There were groceries on the table, and she was putting milk and juice in the refrigerator. He was trying to think of the right words to ease her pain, but when it came to his sister, he was never very successful. These days, Molly was like a keg of dynamite just waiting for someone to light the fuse, so unlike the smiling, easygoing woman she’d once been. He had to be very careful.

With her petite frame, short brown hair and brown eyes, Molly looked much younger than her thirty-five years, and it angered him to think of what Bruce had done to her confidence and self-control.

“How are you, sis?” he murmured as he poured a cup of coffee.

Instead of answering, she asked, “Do you know why he came here?”

“To see Cole.” He sat at the table and wrapped his hands around the mug.

“Yeah, that’s the excuse he used, but he really came to tell Cole he and that teenybopper have set a wedding date. They’re having a big wedding and he wants Cole to be in it. Can you imagine? Now I know he’s lost his mind.”

Ethan didn’t comment or he’d explode with the absurdity of it all. He was worried about Molly. Bruce was all she ever talked about, and Ethan realized she was never going to get over his betrayal without a lot of help.

“Sit down,” he said. “I need to talk to you for a sec.”

“Sure.” She grabbed a diet drink out of the refrigerator and opened it. Sitting down, she asked, “Have you heard something about the wedding?”

“No,” he answered, cradling his cup.

“Good,” Molly replied, tapping her fingers on the table. “He’s got some nerve coming out here. It’s one thing hurting me, but it’s another when he hurts Cole like this. Rumors will be flying all over Junction Flat and San Antonio. We’ll never be able to live this down.”

He reached for her hand. “Molly, you have to stop thinking about Bruce and this girl. He’s made his decision. Now you have to get on with your life.”

She stared down at their hands. “I can’t.”

He knew that. She couldn’t let go of seventeen years of marriage and she couldn’t let go of Bruce. But she had to, and she had to understand what all this was doing to her son.

He cleared his throat. “I want to talk about Cole.”

She glanced up. “What about Cole?”

“Can’t you see how miserable he is?”

“Yes.” She smoothed the Coke can with her thumb. “I don’t know how Bruce can do this to him.”

There was silence for a moment, then Ethan said, “You’re hurting him, too.”

Molly’s head jerked up. “What!”

“Right now Cole’s resentment at his father’s betrayal is feeding off your anger and pain. He can’t move beyond that.”

“That’s Bruce’s fault, not mine,” Molly put in quickly.

“So instead of helping Cole deal with this, you’d rather see him torn apart?”

Molly jumped to her feet. “I don’t want to talk about this,” she said angrily.

Ethan caught her arm before she could walk away. “Molly, Bruce is Cole’s father. You can’t change that, and you have to realize that Cole’s gonna have a part in his life.”

“No!” Molly shook her head wildly. “I don’t want Cole near that…that woman.”

“Oh, Molly.” Ethan got up and took her in his arms.

“What did I do wrong, Ethan?” she cried. “I tried to be the perfect wife and mother. I was so happy when I could quit work and be at home full-time. I loved the cooking, running the household, entertaining. I had parties for Bruce’s associates, and I made sure our home was a place Bruce and Cole could be proud of, but—”

“Sis, you have to stop looking at the past and start looking toward the future.”

“I wish I could, but I can’t get Bruce and her out of my head. She’s only three years older than Cole and—”

“You’re dwelling on this too much,” Ethan said. The age thing was a big problem for Molly. Bruce falling for a younger woman had somehow reduced her worth as a woman. Her confidence was gone and her personality had changed completely in a few months.

“You’ve always been the rock in our family, and I know you have the strength to survive this,” he said into her hair. “When you found out you were pregnant with Cole, you held up your head and faced everyone. When Mom died, you were the one who kept us all together, even though you were hurting, too. And when I was shot, you helped us all stay sane—including me, and I wasn’t an easy person to deal with at that time.”