One Night in Texas

The girl closed her eyes and drifted into a drug-induced sleep. Hardy stepped away from the door and sank into a chair in the hall. The girl wasn’t okay. She was in pain. He took a couple of deep breaths, knowing the knot in his gut wasn’t going to go away for a while. He was so angry with himself. It was a neighborhood with children. He should’ve been more careful. He should have—

He heard them before he saw them. Loud voices. Angry voices. Could only belong to Wiznowskis. It was the twins. There was no mistaking them. Colorful and flashy were their trademarks. He never could tell them apart, so he’d stopped trying.

One had on at least three-inch red clogs with a short skirt and a tank top. The other had on orange high heels, shorts and a gypsy-type blouse. Both wore necklaces, bracelets and earrings that jangled when they walked. Their hair color seemed to change weekly. Today one was a blonde with a bluish tint. The one in shorts had black hair with orangey highlights.

“She’s going to be pissed,” the one in the shorts said.

“So? I can be pissed, too,” the other replied.

“AnaMarie said we should respect her wishes.”

The blond-haired one laughed. “Since when do we listen to AnaMarie? She’s an old fart.”

“She’s two years older than us.”

“Do you have to argue about everything?”

“It’s not me. It’s you.”

“Yeah, right.”

They both stopped when they saw him. The one with the black hair stepped closer. “What are you still doing here? Haven’t you done enough?”

He got to his feet, really not in the mood for another round with the Wiznowskis. “Making sure everyone is okay.”

The blonde’s eyes narrowed. “Does Angie know you’re out here?”

“No.”

“Then you’d better leave.”

He glanced from one to the other. “You know, I can never tell you two apart, so you’ll have to introduce yourselves. I’d really like to know who I’m talking to.”

“I’m Mary Patricia—Patsy,” the black-haired one said.

“And I’m Mary Margaret, but everyone calls me Peggy.”

“Well, Peggy, I’m not going anywhere until that little girl is better.”

Peggy jammed a finger into her chest. “We’ll take care of Erin. We’ve always helped Angie with our little angel. Your presence here only complicates things. Get my drift?”

“Not really. Your sister asked for some time alone with her daughter.”

“Ah.” Patsy waved a hand at him. “She was just upset. She needs us like she did when that bastard left her.”

“Don’t you think someone should call the little girl’s father?” Angie had been very evasive when he’d asked about him, but if it were his kid, he’d want to know. He was sure the man felt the same way.

Patsy got into his face. “I think you’re sticking your nose in where it doesn’t belong.”

“We can discuss this all day and all night, but my position is not changing.”

Angie stepped into the hall, interrupting the heated conversation. “What are y’all doing here? I could hear you in the room.”

Patsy approached her sister. “Don’t go all mama bear on us. You didn’t really think we’d leave, did you?” She held up a bag. “We went to get you something to eat.”

“Thanks, but I’m not hungry.”

Peggy hugged Angie. “How’s Erin?”

“She woke up for a second and said her head hurt. I called a nurse, and they’re bringing her something. She’s really confused right now, I think—the fewer people she sees, the better it is for her.”

“Come on, Angie. We’re her aunties,” Patsy said. “Let us just see her for a second so we can sleep tonight.”

Angie held up one finger. “One minute. Visiting hours are over. You have to make it quick, and please do not wake her.”

Patsy and Peggy hurried inside the room. That left him and Angie staring at each other. The same old message flashed in her eyes, and it didn’t take her long to say it. “Why are you still here?”

Her voice was tired and a little sad. He felt guilty for upsetting her more than he already had.

Patsy and Peggy came out, wiping tears from their eyes.

“She’s so pale.” Peggy grabbed a tissue out of her huge purse.

Angie visibly swallowed. “Yes. She’s had a horrific afternoon and...”

Angie stopped speaking as AnaMarie came toward them with a small suitcase in her hand.

“Well, if it isn’t Ms. Old Fart,” Patsy quipped. “I thought we were supposed to respect Angie’s wishes.”

“I should have known you two wouldn’t listen.”

AnaMarie and Hardy were the same age and in the same class in school. He liked her. She always had a lot of common sense, but she was very quiet and shy. Angie was like that, too.

AnaMarie and her mother, along with the grandmother, ran a bakery. Hardy used to go in there a lot, as did everyone in Horseshoe. When Angie had come back from Temple, he’d heard, she’d taken over the business end. She had an office inside the shop, so he didn’t go in as much to avoid seeing her. Their encounters were stilted and awkward, and he never knew what to say to her. He just had an enormous guilt that he couldn’t shake.

The bakery was the busiest place in town, and people came from all over to sample the kolaches, pies, cakes, cookies and every other imaginable sweet. The shop had been in the same family for as long as Hardy could remember. The Wiznowskis were well-known in Horseshoe. Bubba owed a gas station and wrecker service. Willard had a blacksmith shop and the twins operated a beauty shop that was called Talk of the Town. It was aptly named, as most rumors were started there. Angie also took care of their books and did taxes for just about everyone in Horseshoe.

“I brought you a change of clothes, toiletries and something to sleep in,” AnaMarie said. “I’m prepared to stay, too. You need someone here.”

“Thanks.” Angie took the suitcase from her. “But no. You have to open the bakery in the morning and I’m fine because Erin’s going to be okay.”

“Tomorrow is Sunday, and we’re not open on Sunday,” AnaMarie reminded her.

“I’m sorry.” Angie touched her forehead. “I’m a little rattled.”

“That’s understandable. How’s Erin?”

“She’s a little restless, but the surgery went well.”

Footfalls sounded again on the tiled floor, and they looked up to see Willard and Doris walking toward them.

“I had to come back,” Doris said as she reached Angie. She gave Hardy a sharp glance but didn’t say anything. “I can’t rest until I know my granddaughter’s okay.”

“I tried, Angie,” her father said. “But I was worried, too.”

Angie hugged her parents. “Erin’s going to be fine. You can see her for a minute.”

No one said a word until they came out of the room. Doris dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. “My poor baby. Angie, I’ll stay the night so someone is here with you.”

“No, Mama. Everyone needs to go home. I can take care of Erin.”

“I called Dale and Dorothy and told them what happened, and they send their love and prayers.”

“Thank you, Mama.”

A nurse came down the hall with a syringe in her hand. She glared at everyone. “Visiting hours are over. Y’all will have to leave.”

“They’re going,” Angie replied. She followed the nurse into the room.

The family walked off without a backward glance, and Hardy thought that was just as well. Enough had been said today. He stretched his tired shoulders and moved down the hall so the nurse wouldn’t see him. When the nurse came out of Erin’s room, Hardy slipped in.

“Hardy.” Angie sighed. “You have to leave.”

He stared at the girl in the bed. Her skin was as white as the sheet. He wondered if she was really okay. Maybe that was why he couldn’t leave. His shoulders drooped with fatigue.

He glanced at Angie’s worried face. “You have to call her father. He needs to know his child is hurt, no matter what your relationship is with him.”

“I told you, it’s none of your business.” The smile in her voice was gone, replaced by the same fatigue he was feeling.

“Patsy said he left you, but...”

Angie leaned down and kissed her daughter, then walked into the hall, making sure the door was slightly opened. She sat in one of the chairs. “Okay. If you want to have this conversation now, let’s have it.”

He sat beside her, his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped together. “I’m not upsetting you on purpose.”

“It feels like it.”

The hall was dimly lit, and the only sounds were the beeps of a machine and murmurs coming from the nurse’s station. He wished he could articulate what he was feeling, but he was having a hard time explaining it to himself.

“I’m really sorry about today, Angie. I’d give my life for it not to have happened. I should have been more careful. I should have—”

“Do you believe that things happen for a reason?”

He was taken aback for a moment. “I suppose. I’ve never really thought about it.”

Angie wore shorts and she rubbed her hands down her bare thighs. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the nervous action, trying not to remember the touch of her silky skin against his.

“What does this have to do with your ex-husband?”

“Nothing. It has everything to do with you.”

“I get I’m being a little pushy, but I injured the man’s child and I’d like to apologize. I’d like to do something.”

“Dennis is not part of our lives and he wouldn’t appreciate your apology or your gesture.”

“I don’t get that. He has a daughter.”

She moved restlessly. “I could say again that it doesn’t concern you, but I’m tired and weary of carrying a load so heavy it has finally brought me to my knees.”

Hardy didn’t know what to say. He’d spent many hours in a courtroom with the right response ready at every moment, but here in the hallway he didn’t have a clue how to respond.

“When I was eighteen, I was very naive and believed in love.” She took a deep breath. “I believed in love so strongly I knew the moment we made love you’d fall deeply in love with me. How stupid was that?”

“I’m sorry I hurt you.” They were the only words he could push through his dry throat. She was sincere and honest, and he hated himself at that moment. Hated what had happened between them. Hated he’d destroyed her belief in love.

“And I’m sorry I believed in a love that didn’t exist, but only in my dreams.”

“Angie...”

She held up a hand. “No. Let me say what I have to say because I know you’re not going to stop until you hear the whole story.”

“What story?” He didn’t understand what she was talking about. “We made a bad decision, and we both realized that afterward.”

“You did. I thought I loved you. Even though it was a teenage crush, my feelings were very real to me.”

He clasped his hands until they were numb. The numbness spread to his wrist, his arms. “It’s been so many years ago I don’t understand why we’re talking about it now.”

“You said our night together was a mistake.”

“You agreed.”

She shook her head. “I didn’t say much of anything. You did all the talking. It wasn’t a mistake to me. It will never be.”

He swallowed hard. “You were so young. You had your whole life ahead of you and—”

“You never asked how I felt. It was all about you and what you’d perceived you’d done.”

He drew a long breath. “What does this have to do with your ex-husband not being here?”

“I made bad choices when I was eighteen, but I thought I had made the right choices at the time. Looking back, I can see I was desperately trying to save my pride because that was all I had left.”

He didn’t say anything because he was completely lost. He had no idea what she was talking about. Yet he could clearly hear in her voice that he’d hurt her. He didn’t know how to make that right. They had both moved on to different lives. He saw no reason to dredge it all up again. He had to say something, though.

“You were very young, and I think your feelings for me were blown out of proportion.”

“You could be right about that, because those feelings soon faded.” She sat up straight and wrapped her arms around her waist. “I felt very foolish.”

“Angie, what are you trying to tell me?”

“Like I said, I believe things happen for a reason. You came around that corner at that precise moment and literally crashed into everything I had been keeping a secret for ten years.”

“What...what are you saying?”

She didn’t answer for a moment, and he sensed she was gauging her next words. “I’m saying Erin’s father doesn’t need to be notified because he’s already here.”

“What?”

“You’re Erin’s father.”

Chapter Four

The hallway went dark. Completely. Like a rabbit hole. And he was tumbling down, down, down. The only sound he heard was his heart slamming against his ribs in panic.

You’re Erin’s father.

He’d known.

Somewhere in his subconscious, he’d known. That was why he couldn’t leave the hospital. Angie had desperately wanted to get rid of him, and that had triggered his lawyer’s antenna. True, he’d just run into her child with his truck, but he’d sensed it was more than that. So he’d kept prodding. Kept insisting. Kept questioning.

Oh, my God! He’d hit his own child.

How could that be?

He rose to his feet like a drunk who’d spent too many hours in a bar. His head hurt. His nerves were shaky, and he couldn’t focus beyond the now.

You’re Erin’s father.

“We used protection. How could she be mine?” He was still holding on to the belief that it wasn’t possible he had a child and didn’t know.

“Condoms are not one hundred percent foolproof. You should know that.”

He shook his head. “No...no...” But from her steady gaze, he knew she wasn’t lying. “How could you do this to me?” burst from his throat.

Her head down, her hands clasped in her lap, she replied in a voice that seemed to echo through the hole in his heart. “How was I supposed to tell you when you weren’t here?”

“My father knew how to get in touch with me. You could have asked him.”

“I did. I made the trip twice, and both times he thought I wanted to speak to Rachel. He called her in Paris so we could talk. The second time Rachel didn’t answer and I asked about you. He told me you were engaged and getting married around Christmas. He added that you’d found the perfect wife for your political career. I couldn’t tell you after that. I could have ruined your life.”

“That’s supposed to make it okay?”

Angie kept her head down. “Of course not.”

“Why? Why would you keep it from me all these years?” He tried to keep his voice calm but feared he’d failed. He sounded like a drill sergeant.

“If you remember, you were in Europe. When I realized you were back and living in Houston, I tried your cell number and it wasn’t working anymore.”

“It was stolen in Paris, and I got a new one.”

“I was young and didn’t know what to do. You didn’t love me, and the fact that I was pregnant would only wreck your life, your career. That’s the way I saw it then.”

“So you thought it was better for your daughter and me to never know about each other. Wait. I’ve been back for over two years in Horseshoe and in that time you couldn’t find a moment to tell me the truth?”

She heaved a sigh. “I tried. Three times, if you’ll remember.”

“When?”

“You were home for a while before I even knew you were back in Horseshoe, but when I saw you talking to Wyatt outside the courthouse, I left the bakery and walked over. I asked if you had a few minutes to talk, and you looked at your watch and said you had a meeting in fifteen minutes and that you would catch me later. I waited, but you never made any move to get in touch with me.”

He remembered. “You didn’t make it sound important. I guess I forgot.”

“No, you didn’t forget. You just didn’t want to talk to me because there were two other times I tried to tell you and you brushed me off.”

He frowned. “When?”

“You were busy campaigning for the D.A. job, but I hung in there, wanting you to know you had a child. You were getting in your truck at the courthouse, and I stopped you and asked if you had a few minutes. A blonde walked up. You know those blondes you’re known for dating—a model type, perfect body. And once again you said you’d catch me later. Still, I didn’t give up. At Wyatt and Peyton’s at Christmas I asked again if we could talk. And you know what you did, Hardy?”

He clamped his jaw tight because he had no defense.

“You introduced me to your new girlfriend and you quickly forgot my request. I didn’t know how else I was supposed to tell you when you clearly didn’t want to talk to me. So don’t stand there and point the finger unless you are completely blameless.”

He wasn’t. He knew that, and he was struggling with the consequences of his actions. He remembered all those times she’d approached him and, God help him, he’d thought she had wanted to start their relationship over again. How could he be so blind? So self-centered?

He took a moment to gather his thoughts and tried to find some normalcy in this awful day. Tried to find a reason why he’d shut her out.

He said the first thing that came into his mind. “Why did you marry someone else?”

“My friend Dennis found me crying one day after class. He wanted to know what was wrong, and I told him what I hadn’t told anyone else. We studied together and went to the movies a couple of times. We were good friends, but Dennis wanted it to be more. His solution was we’d just get married and he’d raise the child as his. Out of fear of my mother’s wrath, I agreed.”

“What happened to the marriage?”

She twisted her fingers together. “When I was about seven months, Dennis asked if I loved him. I knew what he wanted to hear, but I couldn’t say the words. He said he’d hoped that I would grow to love him and it was clear that was never going to happen. We ended the marriage amicably. I took back my maiden name. He later married someone else and now has two children.”

“Your sister said he left you.”

“He did. I just never told them the reason why because then I’d have to tell them the truth about Erin.” She took a breath. “At the time I took full responsibility for what happened between us and planned to raise my child alone.”

“She wasn’t just yours.”

Angie buried her face in her hands, and he stilled himself against the emotions churning in him. She raised her head. “How would you have felt if I’d told you back then?”

He swung away and jammed both hands through his hair, irritated he couldn’t respond with an honest heart. His marriage hadn’t lasted. It hadn’t taken him long to figure out he wasn’t in love with Lisa. But still, that didn’t make what Angie had done right.

He swung around. “I would’ve taken care of my kid. She would have known that I was her father. Now I’m a stranger to her. And that’s your fault, Angie.”

“Yes. It’s my fault,” she said without offering one word in her defense. That irritated him even more.

His insides rumbled like thunder before a storm, and any minute Angie was going to feel the full impact of his wrath. To stop the rage building in him, he walked into his daughter’s room and stared at the girl in the bed. Her head tilted to the left and her brown hair clumped around her face. One side of her face was blue, and the white sterile strips on her forehead stood out vividly. She wore a pediatric pink gown that made her skin look even paler. His throat closed up.

My daughter.

Was she okay?

He’d injured his child.

Thoughts pounded at him like hail from the storm brewing in him. He had to get away and make sense of everything. He turned, and Angie stood there, watching him.

“We need to talk,” she said in a low voice.

“I don’t want to hear anything else,” he told her. “Nothing you can say is going to make this better. I have to get away from you. From myself.”

“Hardy, please. I need to know—”

He walked out the door and down the hall. He had no idea where he was going until he reached the entrance. The parking lot loomed in front of him, and he did a quick scan to locate his truck. After climbing inside, he started the engine and headed for somewhere. Or nowhere. He wasn’t quite sure, but any place was better than dealing with a woman who had deceived him.

Angie. Sweet, irresistible Angie had just shattered his heart. And there was no way to forgive that.

Ever.

* * *

ANGIE STARED OUT the window toward Horseshoe. It was dark, but she knew the direction.

She touched the windowpane and the coolness of the glass shot all the way to her heart. She was cold and empty. Somewhere deep inside she found the courage she’d been running on for years. It was like high octane keeping her going. But being strong had cost her more than she’d ever imagined.

She exhaled deeply, turned back to Erin and sat in the chair by the bed, her hand stroking Erin’s face.

After Dennis had left, she hadn’t known how to tell her mother that the marriage was over. Being a strong Catholic, her mother didn’t believe in divorce. So, with her stubborn pride intact, she’d had Erin alone, but after the birth she’d called Patsy and Peggy. She’d needed someone. They got her through it, and then she’d gone home to her parents.

There had been tons of questions from her mother, but her pit-bull sisters had fielded every one of them. And she’d let them protect her until she found the courage once again to stand on her own. It hadn’t been easy, and now she was about to lose it all.

She laid her head on the bed, tears rolling from her eyes. Everyone thought Dennis was Erin’s father, even her family. She’d told no one, not even Dennis, that Hardison Hollister was the father of her baby. That had been her secret.

Looking at her precious daughter, she had one thought. It was over. Her secret wasn’t a secret anymore. Hardy knew he was Erin’s father. She should feel some sort of relief, but the boulder on her chest felt that much heavier. Because it really wasn’t over. The worst was yet to come.

* * *

HARDY’S HEAD POUNDED, and he cursed under his breath. Where was he? It was dark, and he was sitting outside on a bench. A warm breeze touched his face and ruffled his hair. Reaching up to brush it out of his eyes, he realized he had a bottle in his hand. A whiskey bottle.

Just what he needed. He took a swig. Oh, yeah, Tennessee whiskey. It should solve all his problems, or maybe just drown them.

Through the pounding he kept hearing You’re Erin’s father.

He took another swallow, but the sound wouldn’t go away. Damn! He needed more booze.

“Hardy, is that you?”

Hardy blinked and saw at least two Wyatt Carsons standing there. He knew it was him because the moonlight reflected off the badge on his shirt.

“Yeah.”

“What are you doing sitting on the bench in front of the courthouse?”

“Hell, I don’t know.” He turned the bottle up again.

“Are you drunk?”

“Good guess. You’re not the sheriff for nothing.”

Wyatt sat beside him. “Are you drinking that straight?”

“Straight as an arrow to my gut, and I’m waiting for the numbness to knock me on my ass.”

“What’s wrong with you? I know it’s been a rough day, but I’ve never seen you drink like this and I’ve known you all of my life.”

“You know me pretty well, huh?”

“Pretty good.” Wyatt nodded.

“Do you know I have a kid?”

“What?”

“I have a kid, and I found out tonight.”

“You’re talking out of your head.” Wyatt stood. “Let’s go over to the jail and I’ll make some coffee and you can sober up. Then you can tell me what’s going on.”

“I’m telling you now. Damn it! Can’t you hear me?”

“The whole town can hear you, and I don’t think you want them to see the D.A. drunk on his ass.”

“Like I give a damn.” He tipped up the bottle again.

Wyatt jerked it out of his hand. “You’ve had enough.”