The Wrong Woman

She straightened and wiped away tears with the back of her hand. “I can’t seem to stop crying and I don’t even like myself these days.”

“Why don’t you go back to work?” he suggested. She’d been drifting in and out of depression for months, and now was the time to do something about it.

Her face crumpled. “You don’t like having me here?”

“I love it and so does Pop, but you need another interest—something to get your mind off Bruce. And to show Cole that you’re gonna be okay.”

She shrugged. “What would I do? It’s been so long since I’ve worked.”

“You have a friend who’s got a gift shop and another who owns a boutique. Maybe you could help out until you decide what you want to do.”

Molly walked to the sink with a thoughtful expression. She came back with a dishcloth and washed down the table, which it didn’t need. “I’ll think about it,” she finally said.

“Good.” He gave her another hug.

Her arms gripped him so tight he could barely breathe. “What if he marries her, Ethan?”

His heart ached for the sadness in her voice, but she had to face the truth. “Oh, Molly. You have to accept it. It’s going to happen.”

“I know, but—”

“Travis is coming home next Saturday,” he slipped in. He’d wanted Travis to tell her himself, but now he had to use whatever was at his disposal.

She drew back and brushed away a tear. “He is?”

“Yep, so you’d better dry those tears and get a room ready.”

“Oh.” She clapped her hands together. “When’s he coming? I want to fix a big dinner and have the house spic and span. I hope he brings his guitar, because I want to hear his songs. Oh, Ethan, this will be fun! Thank you.”

“What did I do?”

“You made him come home. I know you did, but I don’t care. It’ll be so good to see him. I’ll fix his favorite—chicken and dressing. It won’t be like Mom’s, but I’ll box his ears if he says anything.”

The transformation in Molly was amazing, and that was because she was thinking about something besides Bruce and his new love. He should’ve done this sooner. Molly had to learn that there was life after Bruce.

SERENA AWOKE with a start. She sat up, shook back her hair and turned on the lamp. She’d been dreaming and it was so real. There was a stage and she was standing on it, taking off her clothes. Men were yelling at her, but she continued to undress under their leers and whistles. Her skin still crawled with revulsion and she quickly checked—yes, she had her nightgown on. She wasn’t naked.

“I am not a stripper,” she said out loud. “It’s isn’t me.” Then why did it feel like her? Damn Ethan Ramsey for putting the idea into her head! “I am not a stripper,” she said again, and settled back in bed, trying to calm down. But it wasn’t easy. The feeling of disgust wouldn’t go away.

Her usual worry was about money. Now she was also troubled by the thought that there might be a woman who looked like her. A woman who apparently lived nearby—and worked as a stripper. She couldn’t get it out of her head. She studied the picture on her nightstand—a picture of Jasmine. She had red hair and blue eyes, as did Gran. It was a trait in their family, although Gran’s hair had gone completely white. The woman in the picture did look like Serena. Her hair was brighter and her face slimmer, but they definitely resembled each other.

If the stripper was a “dead ringer” for Serena, there had to be some kind of family connection. But what? Deciding to talk to her grandmother, she got up and went into Aurora’s room. Aurora was sitting in a lounge chair drinking coffee.

“Morning, Gran.” Serena kissed her, then sat cross-legged on the bed.

“Good morning, darling. Did you sleep well?”

No, she’d had horrible dreams she wanted to forget, but she replied, “Yes, thank you.”

She wondered how to bring up the subject of her mother. They never talked about Jasmine, and there were no pictures of her in Aurora’s bedroom or anywhere else in the house. Serena had found the photo she had in her own room tucked away in a drawer.

“What was my father’s name?” She thought that was a good place to start.

“What?” Gran frowned at her.

“I don’t even know his name. My name’s Farrell because you and Grandfather put it on my birth certificate for obvious reasons. His name had to be something else.”

She supposed she could have researched this easily enough, but she’d never felt the need before; especially while her grandfather was still alive. And her grandparents’ feelings about her father were all too evident.

“He’s dead and it’s best to leave him there,” Aurora said in a hard tone, but it didn’t stop Serena. Ethan Ramsey had opened a door in her mind, and all she could see were empty places.

“No, Gran,” she said, her voice just as hard. “I want you to tell me about him—all the bad stuff. I need to know.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s my father.”

“That’s doesn’t mean a thing.”

Serena was taken aback by her grandmother’s attitude. She’d known since she was small that her grandparents hated her father. It was one of the reasons she never asked about him, but now she had to have some answers.

“It does to me,” she replied stubbornly.

Aurora took a quick breath. “His name was John Welch. Jasmine called him Johnnie. He worked as a mechanic. What attracted Jasmine to him I don’t know. She was raised to be a lady, not to live in a one-room apartment above a garage. Henry and I laid down the law and forbade her to see him again, but she ran off to be with him. It almost killed us.”

Serena knew this part of the story. It sounded almost rehearsed. She wanted more.

“Where is John Welch’s family?”

Aurora shrugged. “I don’t know and I don’t care.”

“Gran!”

“All right.” Aurora patted her white hair. “He lived with someone in a trailer park. After he was killed, they moved away. That’s the only family I knew about.”

“So my father doesn’t have any relatives around here?”

Aurora eyed her strangely. “Why all the questions, Serena?”

“Someone said he saw a woman who looked like me in Dallas, and it got me thinking.”

“Looks like you,” Aurora laughed nervously. “That’s ridiculous. No one’s as beautiful as you. I thought your mother was beautiful, but you’ve eclipsed her in every way.”

Something in Aurora’s voice alerted Serena. “You have forgiven her, haven’t you, Gran?”

“Forgive? I’m not sure. A mother never gets over that kind of pain.” Her hand shook as she took a sip of coffee.

“Oh, Gran.” Serena rushed over and hugged her. “Jasmine gave me to you. You wouldn’t have raised me if you hadn’t loved her deeply.”

Aurora touched her cheek. “Yes, you’re the one good thing that came out of the tragedy.”

Serena sat on the edge of the chair. “I wish I knew more about my father.”

“He’s not worth knowing. Forget about him.”

Serena frowned. She’d never heard her grandmother talk with such vehemence, and it rattled her. Was there something Gran wasn’t telling her?

THE DREAMS CONTINUED. She was stripping in front of men, but now Ethan was in the dream watching her with an I knew it expression on his face. She couldn’t shake the dream and it was beginning to wear her down. She couldn’t let that happen; there were too many other concerns that needed her attention.

She went to a jeweler to have the earrings appraised before hocking them—and discovered that they were worth far more than she’d ever imagined. The jeweler said the shape of the diamond was very rare, as was the box they were in. He showed her the markings on the bottom of the box and explained their significance. The information made her decision that much more difficult, but she kept reminding herself that she didn’t have a choice. The jeweler made her an offer, and she accepted on condition that he’d hold the earrings for thirty days before selling them. Why, she had no idea. She just wanted an option left open to her. The jeweler also agreed to make a cheap fake pair and a similar box. He said she could pick them up in a couple of days. As she hurried out of the store, she felt as if she’d thrown away part of her heritage. But it was only a thing, she kept telling herself.

The next day she went to the bank and made the payment. Mr. Wylie was surprised but pleased, and she could see he was curious about where she’d gotten the money. She didn’t tell him it came from the past—a past she’d probably never see again. But right now, her only feeling was relief that she wouldn’t have to worry about another payment for three months.

THAT NIGHT Serena fought sleep. She couldn’t tolerate another one of those nights. She had to teach in the morning. She groaned at the prospect, almost giving in to a wave of exhaustion. Why couldn’t she stop thinking about the other woman? Maybe because she felt Gran wasn’t telling her the whole story about her father. But what did it matter? Serena got her features from her mother’s side of the family. Her father’s family had nothing to do with that. Still…she’d like to know something about them.

Ethan Ramsey could help her. No, no, she was taking this too far. Gran wouldn’t lie to her. But…she flipped on the light and went over to the trash can. His business card was still inside. She retrieved it and placed it on her nightstand. Now what? Ethan could find out about the other woman; that was the only way she was going to have any peace. Private investigators cost money, though, and she wondered how much he charged. Since she was struggling to stay afloat, hiring him was crazy to even contemplate. Absolutely crazy. She opened the drawer and dropped the card in. She had to pull herself together and stop thinking about the stripper…and Ethan Ramsey.

THINGS WERE CHANGING around the Ramsey house. Molly cleaned and cooked all week, getting ready for Travis’s homecoming. Ethan even heard her singing a few times, and it did his heart good. Bruce had called Cole and Cole had talked to him, in one-word answers, but it was a start. Even though Molly was still hurting, at least she was making an effort to control her reactions. She didn’t say anything when Bruce called, and that was a big improvement. She didn’t even ask Cole what Bruce wanted, which Ethan considered the biggest step of all. She was letting Cole form his own opinions of his father.

Ethan was busy on the ranch, baling hay, fixing fence and clearing brush to rid his pasture of mesquite. It was a never-ending job. He’d bought a spirited horse that needed breaking. Cole was eager for the job, and Ethan figured it was a way for him to get rid of some of the tension he was carrying around. So Saturday morning, Ethan let him try his hand.

He held the horse while his nephew climbed on, then he ran to the fence as the horse started to buck. “Ride ’em, boy. Ride ’em…”

His voice stilled when the horse managed to send Cole flying through the air. The boy hit the ground, spitting out dirt, then rolled onto his back. “What am I doing wrong, Uncle Ethan?”

Ethan shook his head. “You’re not concentrating,” he said from his perch on the fence.

Cole got to his feet and dusted off his jeans. “I’ve concentrated so hard my head’s about to explode.”

“Want to try again?” Pop called, capturing the animal’s reins.

Cole didn’t answer as he stared off toward the road.

Ethan followed his gaze. A truck was coming, stirring up dust like a thundercloud.

Pop put the horse in the bigger corral and walked over to Ethan. Cole followed. “It’s Uncle Travis, isn’t it?” Cole asked excitedly.

Ethan squinted against the morning sun. “Yep, sure looks like it.”

“Yea doggie!” Cole shouted, then leaped over the fence and ran for the house.

Ethan jumped to the ground and winced as pain shot up his leg. Damn, he hated that weakness. But the pain in his hip was his own battle and he dealt with it privately, without complaining, without excuses.

Pop headed for his horse, tethered to the fence. “Think I’ll check on those heifers in the north pasture.”

“Pop,” Ethan called.

His father turned to look at him.

“Thought you were going to make an effort—for Molly.”

“Son—”

“Let’s go, Pop. It’s time to say hello to your youngest son.”

When they reached the house, Travis and Cole were horsing around, throwing punches at each other. With an arm around Cole, Travis said, “Hi, Ethan. Pop.”

“Son,” Pop replied in a solemn voice. “You finally found your way home.”

Ethan took a long breath and embraced Travis, not wanting to give Pop any opportunity to get more zingers in. Pop’s attitude did not bode well for the weekend.

“Good to have you here,” Ethan said as the front door flew open and Molly burst out.

“Travis, Travis!” she cried, and ran into his arms. He swung her round and round until all they heard was the sound of laughter.

Finally Travis set her on her feet. “You’ll never believe what I have cooking in the house!” Molly paused to catch her breath. “Chicken and dressing and apple pie,” she said before Travis could speak.

Travis looped an arm around her waist as they made their way into the house. “You always were my favorite sister.”

“I’m your only sister.” Molly giggled, and Ethan knew he’d done the right thing in asking Travis to come home. He wished Pop could see that.

The day went relatively well, considering Pop’s uncommunicative mood and somber expression. That evening they sat on the front porch, and Travis played his guitar and sang. Molly joined in and Ethan and Cole clapped along. After that, they started on the gospel songs their mother used to sing. Ethan noticed that Pop was getting teary-eyed.

Suddenly Pop said, “You both got your talent from your mother. She sang like a bird.”

An unwelcome tension followed.

Travis cleared his throat. “Thanks, Pop.” And Molly nodded.

“I was so mad at her brother Charlie for buying you that guitar when you were twelve.”

Silence again.

“Later I found out that Marie had given him the money to buy it. It was the only thing she ever kept from me.” He slowly shook his head. “She knew I wouldn’t like it.”

Travis looked to Ethan for guidance, but Ethan didn’t respond. If Pop had something to say, he needed to say it.

“I still don’t like it,” Pop went on. “But Ethan says you have a right to live your life the way you want. He’s right, because when I hear you sing, I hear your mama and…” He stopped as his voice cracked. He got to his feet. “Think I’ll turn in.”

Molly threw her arms around him, and they exchanged a long hug. Then Pop looked at Travis. “Glad you’re home, son,” he mumbled, and walked into the house.

Ethan heaved a sigh of relief. Finally they were talking like a family. Now maybe the hurt could begin to heal.

THEY WERE STILL talking outside when the phone rang. Cole jumped up. “I’ll get it.”

Ethan wondered if Cole was hoping it would be his father. A minute later, he was back. “It’s for you, Uncle Ethan. A woman.”

“A woman?” Travis raised an eyebrow. “This is interesting.” He grinned at Cole. “Did she sound young and attractive?”

Cole shrugged. “She sounded nice.”

“Nice and needs assistance from a P.I. is my guess,” Travis stated.

Ethan stood. “It could be something entirely different.”

“Yeah, right.” Travis said with a laugh.

Ethan shook his head as the laughter followed him into the house.

He picked up the receiver. “Hello.”

“Mr. Ethan Ramsey?”

“Yes.”

“My name is Serena Farrell. We met a week ago in a café in Fort Worth. You thought I was a…stripper. Do you remember?”

Ethan sat down on the sofa. The redhead was the last person he’d expected to call. That could only mean one thing. She needed his services, just as Travis had predicted.

“Yes, I remember. What can I do for you, Ms. Farrell?”

Silence.

“Ms. Farrell?”

“I’m not sure how to say this.”

“Don’t be embarrassed. Sometimes we all do stupid things.”

“I am not a stripper,” she said hotly.

“Okay, then, why are you calling me?”

“I want to know who the other woman is.”

“I see,” he said, but he didn’t, so he decided to let her do the talking.

“Do you think you can find her?” she asked after a brief pause.

“That shouldn’t be too hard.”

“How…how much do you charge?”

Ethan told her and she asked, “Do you think you can locate her in two days?”

Ethan knew where the woman worked, so the job would be easy, but he wasn’t sure why Serena Farrell needed to find her. Was she telling the truth about her own identity? Could there actually be two of them? His curiosity was piqued, and he wanted to find out.

“I think so,” he said slowly. “Can you explain what this is all about?”

“If she looks like me, we have to be related in some way. I want to know how.”

Ethan accepted that, but he felt there were a lot of blanks that needed filling in. “Okay, I’ll come to Fort Worth and we’ll take it from there.”

“I can’t do it next week. I’m a schoolteacher and it’s the last week of school, but the week after should be fine.”

“I work alone, Ms. Farrell.”

“Please, Mr. Ramsey, this is very important to me.”

Something in her voice got to him. “Give me your number.”

When she’d rattled off her phone number, she said, “Thanks, Mr. Ramsey. I know you think I’m lying, but I’m not.”

“I’m a private investigator and I try not to judge people. If you want this woman found, then I’ll find her. I’ll call in a week.”

Ethan hung up and stared at the phone. The plot thickens. Now he’d discover whether or not there were two women, and he didn’t mind getting to know Ms. Serena Farrell in the process. She was either the best actress he’d ever met or a woman who genuinely needed his help. Either way, he was looking forward to the experience.

SERENA SAT until her heart stopped pounding. She’d done it. She’d called. Now she’d know. She picked up her mother’s picture from the bed. They looked so much alike. Very few people had exactly that hair color together with the fair complexion. For the past few days, she’d had an awful thought, as a result of Gran’s reaction to her questions. Maybe Jasmine wasn’t dead. What if Aurora and Henry had disowned her and pretended she was dead? If her mother was alive and had another daughter—could that possibly be true? Yes, she told herself, because Gran wasn’t telling her the whole story. She’d have to find out on her own—with Ethan Ramsey’s help.

CHAPTER THREE

THE REST OF THE WEEKEND went smoothly, Ethan thought. Travis and Molly laughed and talked and sang, and they had their heads together most of the time. They were only three years apart in age and had always been close. Pop managed to keep his opinions to himself, but by Sunday afternoon Ethan knew something was afoot. Molly was too excited. Then she dropped her bombshell: she was returning to Dallas with Travis and singing in the club with him. Travis had cleared it with the owner. When Pop heard the news, he stomped off to the kitchen.

Molly appealed to Ethan. “Talk to him. I have to get away.”

Ethan knew she did, but singing in a nightclub staggered him, too. His sister was more the domestic type.

Travis spoke up. “C’mon, Ethan. I’ll look out for her.”

“What about Cole?” Ethan said the only thing that made sense to him.

“We’ve already talked,” Molly said. “Travis offered to get him a job with his construction company, but he wants to spend his last summer before college here on the ranch with you and Pop.”

Ethan was still at a loss for words. Molly didn’t need his permission, but she seemed to need his approval.

“You wanted me to get a job,” she reminded him. “That’s what I’m doing. I just can’t stay here with Bruce getting married.” Her voice wavered slightly.

Ethan put his arm around her. Molly had never been on her own. She’d gone from her parents’ house to Bruce’s, and needed to experience life as a single woman. He understood that. “Just take care of yourself and I’ll take care of Cole.”

She kissed his cheek. “Thanks. This will give Cole a chance to forge a new relationship with his father. You’re right, my pain has had a bad effect on Cole. I don’t want him to be bitter, and as much as Bruce has hurt me, he was always a good father to Cole. That’s not easy for me to admit, but I have to go forward, as you said, and I’m trying to do that. I still have a lot of emotions to get through. This time away from everything will help me.” She glanced toward the kitchen. “But what about Pop?”

“Go tell him what you just told me.” Ethan knew she wanted him to explain, but if Molly was going to make her own choices, she had to defend them.

When she left, Travis said, “I think this is what’s best for Molly right now.”

“Oddly, I do, too,” Ethan replied. “She has to find a life without Bruce. Singing in a club, though. That takes some getting used to.”

“It’s just something fun to do until she gets her bearings.”

“I suppose,” Ethan admitted. “I’ll be in Fort Worth the week after next, and I’ll drop by and catch the show.”

Travis’s eyes narrowed. “What will you be doing in Fort Worth?”

“A case.”

“And you’re not talking about it.”

“Nope.” He didn’t talk about his cases and he definitely didn’t want Travis to know he was working for the redhead. There’d be too many questions and he didn’t have any answers.

Later that evening they waved goodbye to Molly and Travis. After Molly had talked to Pop, he seemed resigned to the situation. They all were, because they realized Molly was taking the first step in changing her life.

ETHAN DID a background check on Serena Farrell. He wanted to find out as much as he could. She was a schoolteacher, as she’d said. He would never have guessed that. She seemed more the executive type. Everything else was pretty much as he’d expected. She came from a wealthy family and lived in an affluent neighborhood. Polished and sophisticated—exactly as she appeared. She was unmarried and lived with her grandmother. That was a surprise, but then, he had a feeling there were going to be lots of surprises with Serena Farrell.

He called her and they made plans to get together on Saturday of the following week at the café where they’d first met. He didn’t have to see her, he could get most of what he needed on the phone. But he had an urge to spend some time with her. Try to figure her out. Maybe get another read on the situation.

Ethan left Pop and Cole to their own devices, but he knew what they’d be doing. Cole was smitten with the Dawson girl, and after they finished work for the day, he’d drive over to her house. Pop would be playing dominoes with his buddies. He promised them both that he’d check in on Molly.

He arrived at the café early and sat watching the door—a habit that sometimes proved valuable. He saw her through the window. Her red hair was coiled at the nape of her neck. As he watched, she removed her sunglasses and put them in her purse. She wore a cream pantsuit that enhanced the red of her hair. When she entered the café and glanced around, he immediately got to his feet. She came toward him, and Ethan realized again how beautiful she was. She moved with a grace that had several men turning their heads. All of a sudden the stripper’s almost-nude body flashed in his mind and he knew exactly what lay beneath the pantsuit. The vision startled him, but his body reacted instinctively—in a way it hadn’t responded the night he’d seen the stripper. Damn, he was too old for this. Or did men ever get too old to respond? Especially when they were two feet away from a woman like Serena Farrell.

She offered her hand and he shook it. Her skin felt just as soft and smooth as it looked. A delicate fragrance drifted to his nostrils.

“I’m glad you came, Mr. Ramsey,” she said as she sat down.

“Please call me Ethan,” he invited as he resumed his seat.