All Roads Lead to Texas

“Sheriff, I heard we have newcomers in town over at the Hellmuth house.”

“Yes, Millie. Mrs. Austin arrived today with her three kids.”

“What’s she like?”

“Touchy,” Virgil spoke up.

“What do you mean?” Millicent turned to him and Wade sighed. Virgil was worse than any old woman gossip.

“Well, you see, the sheriff and me took sleeping bags over to—”

“Virg, aren’t you supposed to answer that call we just got from the Tuttles’ neighbor?” The only way to sidetrack Virgil was with police work.

“Ah, Sheriff, I hate going over there. Cora Lou shoots at Norris every time he comes home from one of his long-haul trips, accusing him of having an affair. I’m getting tired of having to break them up. I don’t know how she misses him. His chest is as broad as a side of a barn.” Virgil headed for the door, still grumbling. “I just might arrest Cora Lou and maybe she’d stop all this foolishness.”

“Then do it,” Wade said as the door closed.

“What’s the scoop on the new lady, Sheriff?” Millie didn’t skip a beat. “Virgil said she’s touchy. Why do you think that is?”

Wade suppressed a groan. As always, Millie was searching for a story where there wasn’t one. “There’s no story, Millie. She’s a single mom with three kids and wants to raise them in a small-town atmosphere.”

“Single, hmm?” Millicent scribbled something on a pad. “That’s going to get the young bucks in this town stirred up. Like when Kristin and Kayla came to town. They found husbands. You think Mrs. Austin’s looking for a husband?”

“I got work to do.” He walked into his office and closed the door.

A lot of things didn’t add up with Callie Austin, her nervousness, her desire to be alone and her kids calling her by her name. That was odd. It had thrown him for a minute. He’d taken the high road, though, and hadn’t asked. He’d learned that discretion worked best in his job. The details usually came out later, especially the ones people tried to keep hidden.

Sinking into his chair, he couldn’t stop thinking about Callie. Millie thought she was looking for a husband. He didn’t think so, but she was looking for something. What? He had no idea. Maybe it was peace and quiet and time to get over her husband’s death.

Whatever it was, the town had to leave her alone.

And that included him.

CALLIE ARRANGED the sleeping bags in one of the bedrooms. She had to put hers in between Brit and Mary Beth because both wanted to sleep by her. Adam arranged his at their feet. They found a table for Fred and fed him. Then Callie opened the ice chest with their food stash. Since she didn’t know the layout of the town, she thought it best if they just had a sandwich for tonight. Their diet had been atrocious lately, fast food and sandwiches. Until she got the kitchen fixed, she didn’t know how much longer it would be before she could cook them a decent meal.

They gathered in the parlor around the ice chest, sitting on the floor. “I want peanut butter,” Mary Beth said, Miss Winnie in her lap. “Peanut butter with bananas. You know how I like it, Callie.”

“I sure do, sweetie.”

“I want mine with grape jelly,” Brit added.

Adam made a face. “’Cause it’s purple.”

Brit stuck out her tongue again.

“You’re stupid,” Adam told her.

“You’re stupider.”

Callie stopped in the process of opening the jar. The kids were acting so out of character and Callie suspected it had something to do with Nigel’s abuse. They’d gotten along well until he’d come into their lives; now they were bickering and being rude. It had to stop.

“We have to talk. Adam, you will not call your sister stupid again. And Brit, you will stop sticking out your tongue.”

“What if I forget?” Brit asked.

“Then you say I’m sorry.”

“To him.” She jabbed a thumb toward Adam. “No wa…” Her voice fluttered away when she saw the look on Callie’s face. “Okay, but I think you need to punish him—make him sleep in the attic or something.”

“No, Callie,” Mary Beth cried. “Don’t make Adam sleep in the attic.”

The thought of any of them being punished again upset Mary Beth. “No one is sleeping in the attic.” Callie rubbed Mary Beth’s arm to comfort her. “Let’s eat dinner, then we’ll take a bath and go to bed. We’re all tired.”

They ate their sandwiches in silence and Callie cut apples and oranges into slices. After eating, Callie gathered the remains and put them in a plastic bag. She noticed Mary Beth’s eyelids drooping. It was time for bed.

Brit and Mary Beth took a bath first in the antique tub with claw feet. It was almost identical to the one upstairs, except it was clean thanks to Ethel Mae. For something so old, it was in very good shape. The toilet had a pull chain and it worked. Being in the house was like taking a step back in time.

She helped the girls into their pajamas while Adam took his bath. Snug in their bags, Callie hurriedly took a bath and slipped into pajama bottoms and a T-shirt. She left the bathroom light on so the house wouldn’t be in total darkness.

Soon they were all comfy. Or so Callie thought. “Callie,” Mary Beth whispered.

“What, sweetie?”

“What if I wet the bed?”

“Then I’ll clean it up and we’ll go back to sleep.”

“But my sleeping bag’ll be wet.”

“Mary Beth, sweetie. Don’t worry about it. I’ll wash the bag tomorrow and you can slide in with me.”

“’Kay.” Mary Beth turned onto her side, Miss Winnie in her arms. “Night, Fred. Don’t be afraid. Callie’s here.”

They went through this every night. Mary Beth just needed reassurance. Before Glynis’s death, she’d never wet the bed or been afraid. Once their lives settled down, the bed-wetting would stop. Since they’d been on the run, Mary Beth had only wet the bed once—their first night in a motel. Callie was hoping that soon she wouldn’t be wetting the bed at all and she wouldn’t be so afraid.

Callie gazed into the semidarkness, listening to the occasional sound of a car and the creaks and noises of the old house. They were here. They were safe—for now. Just the thought of that relaxed her.

“I can’t sleep,” Brit complained.

“Me, neither,” Mary Beth chimed in. “Tell us a story.”

“Not the princess one again or I’ll puke.” Adam made his wishes known.

“There’s a prince for every princess, right, Callie?”

“Right,” she answered Brit’s question, but she wasn’t sure. She’d met a couple of horned toads in her day. And kissing didn’t help.

“Daddy was Mommy’s prince,” Mary Beth said.

“Yes, he was,” Callie agreed. There wasn’t a better man than John Lambert.

“And Nigel’s a frog.” Brit giggled. “You know what? If he comes here maybe we can get June Bug to eat him.”

“Maybe he’ll eat you.” Adam joined the conversation.

“Callie, he’s being mean again.” Brit wanted to make sure she knew that.

“Everyone go to sleep.”

Silence for a moment, then Mary Beth’s tiny voice asked, “Can Mommy see us?”

Callie swallowed. “Yes, she can.”

“Daddy, too?”

“Yes, Daddy, too.”

“Then that bad sheriff won’t arrest us ’cause they’ll take care of us.”

How Callie wished that were true. And that Glynis had never met Nigel or that John hadn’t died. Now she had to deal with the consequences.

Once she heard Brit and Mary Beth’s steady breathing, she slipped from her bag. Adam’s recent behavior was unacceptable and they had to discuss it. Lying on his back, he stared at the ceiling. She went down on her knees beside him.

“Can’t sleep?”

“No.”

“Why are you being so mean to your sister?”

He turned on his side to face her. “Because she’s being silly and she’s going to get us caught. Then they’ll take us back to Nigel and put you in jail. I can’t take that, Callie. I can’t. And if you’re in jail, I’ll just die. I’m so scared.”

“Oh, Adam.” She gathered him in her arms, her heart breaking. “Please stop worrying so much. I’ll take care of us. I promise.”

“But the sheriff keeps coming here.”

“He’s just being nice.” As she said the words, she knew they were true. Wade Montgomery was a nice man. “Listen to me. Worrying is my department and I will handle the sheriff. I want you to turn back into the sweet little boy you’ve always been. Okay?”

“Okay.” He rubbed his face against her.

“Now go to sleep.”

Callie walked out onto the front porch and sat in one of the rockers, her heart heavy. It was a beautiful moonlit night with a million stars twinkling through the live oaks. She drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around her legs, listening to the gentle serenade of the crickets. Everything was quiet. Peaceful. Except her thoughts.

How could her mother do this to them? she asked herself again. Put them in the position of fleeing from the law. So much anger churned inside her at the turmoil Adam was going through, and the grief and fear Mary Beth and Brit were experiencing. She tried not to be angry at Glynis, but she was. She’d been taken in by a con artist. Nigel had lavished her with attention and praise, something she’d needed after John’s death. Still, it didn’t give her the right to bring that awful man into their lives.

Glynis could be impulsive and selfish at times, but she’d never done anything like this. She and John had had a good marriage, a good life, so how could she fall for Nigel? Callie didn’t understand that and every time she’d tried to talk to her mother, Glynis would say they’d talk later. But later never came. Instead, a nightmare had followed and she was still…

Her thoughts skidded to an abrupt stop as a car pulled up to the curb. Wade. Again. He unfolded his tall frame from the vehicle and started up the walk. It was late—too late for a friendly visit. What was he doing here? There could only be one reason. He knew her identity and had come to arrest her.

Her first reaction was to run inside, lock the front door and get the kids out the back. But her car was in front.

She was trapped.

And she didn’t even hear a siren.

CHAPTER FOUR

AS THE SHERIFF STROLLED UP the steps, Callie held her breath until her chest burned. Why was he here?

“Mrs. Austin.” Wade tipped his hat in welcome.

“Sheriff,” she acknowledged in a hesitant voice, her heart ticking like a time bomb about to explode.

“I was making my last drive through town before heading home and I saw you sitting out here.” He leaned a shoulder against a pillar.

Her lungs expanded with relief. He didn’t know who she was—yet. She had more time. Tightening her arms around her legs, she said, “It’s so relaxing and quiet. I can barely hear the traffic on the highway.”

“Yep. Homestead’s a peaceful place. Not much happens.”

“I like that.”

“That’s why you came to Homestead, isn’t it?”

Her eyes shot to his, trying to make out his expression in the moonlight. Was there something hidden in that remark? There seemed to be, but she really couldn’t tell. Her perception wasn’t all that good lately, and her nerves were a mangled mass of spaghetti.

“What do you mean?” she asked for good measure.

Wade walked over and sat in the other rocker. It squeaked against the floorboards from his weight. “A small quiet town to raise your children.”

“Yes.”

Away from Nigel Tremont and his sadistic behavior.

Wade clasped his hands between his knees. “I really came by to apologize.”

“Oh?”

“I should have spoken to you first before offering Brit a chance to ride a horse. That put you in an awkward position.”

Callie tucked her hair behind her ear, amazed at his sensitivity. “Since we started making plans to come to Texas, Brit has talked about being a cowgirl. She’s never been near a horse so I’m not sure where the idea comes from. I feel once she gets near the big animal all that will change. Brit’s very impulsive.”

“And very charming. Like her mother.”

His voice felt like a caress in the night, warming her skin and… Oh, this was getting too intimate—with the wrong man.

A tense pause followed, then he said, “I’m afraid I had personal reasons for making the offer.”

“Personal reasons?”

“Yeah.” He rubbed his hands together. “My son died four years ago and his horse hasn’t been ridden since. I was hoping another child would…” He stopped for a moment. “My father is very protective of that horse and it probably wouldn’t have worked anyway.”

Callie’s heart filled with compassion. “I’m so sorry about your son.” She could only imagine the grief and the heartache of losing a child and she could hear it in every word he spoke.

“Thank you,” he said and got to his feet with restless energy. It was clear that talking about his son wasn’t easy and he quickly changed the subject. “I thought I better warn you, too, about the townsfolk. They’ll be eager to help and I hope it’s not going to offend you. People around here are just friendly.”

She stood on her bare feet facing him. “I’ll remember that and I’m probably going to need a lot of help. The house—” she waved a hand toward the front door “—needs lots of work.”

“June Bug is a good carpenter and he can fix just about anything.”

“Odell’s a very interesting person.”

A dark eyebrow arched in amusement. “Yeah. I think he’s been called that a time or two.”

“I’m not calling him June Bug. I consider it an insult.”

Wade studied her in the moonlight, which seemed to form a halo around the blond hair that hung loosely to her shoulders. Without her shoes, she barely came up to his shoulder, but despite her petite size he had a feeling Callie Austin was a very strong woman. She would be a pleasant surprise for the town of Homestead. That was his personal opinion. His train of thought seemed to be completely sidetracked since her arrival in town.

“I really hate to disappoint Brit.”

“Don’t worry about it. Brit forgets things easily, and frankly I need to spend all my time on the house.”

And not getting involved with me. Where did that thought come from? He didn’t even know the woman, but he liked her and…

He cleared his throat. “Are the kids comfortable for the night?”

“Yes. They’re completely exhausted.”

He nodded. “I’m sure you are, too, so I’ll let you get to bed.” He tipped his hat again. “Have a good night.”

With that, Wade strolled down the step to his squad car. He’d vowed to stay away from Callie and give her some space, but when he’d glimpsed her sitting in the rocker he’d stopped without even thinking. The offer of Brit riding a horse bothered him. After he’d done it, he realized he shouldn’t have, especially after Callie’s reaction. And of course Jock would be against anyone riding Lucky. It was best to rectify things now, but he didn’t feel good about hurting Brit. He wondered how Callie would explain it.

Before getting into his car, he glanced at the front porch. Callie had gone inside. He felt a moment of loneliness and he had no idea what that meant. He felt lonely all the time—nothing and no one could make that go away. Talking to her was almost surreal, like this was something he needed. And he’d told her about Zach. He never spoke to anyone about his son, except his friend Ethan Ritter. Ethan had lost a sister, so he knew about that kind of pain.

He got in his car and headed toward Spring Creek Ranch.

And a confrontation with his father.

WHEN WADE WALKED into the kitchen, Jock was sitting at the table nursing a cup of coffee. The mug trembled in his hands.

“How you feeling, Pop?”

“Hummph.”

Wade poured a cup and straddled a chair across from his father. He and Jock used to be the same height, but at sixty-nine Jock’s height had diminished. His hair was silver-gray and his face leathery and wrinkled from years in the sun. A man who once walked with pride now found it a struggle to get through each day, and on days when he needed help, he depended on the bottle. There were too many of those days to Wade’s way of thinking. They had to talk.

Where to start? Talking to his father had always been a hard thing to do. Wade had idolized Jock and wanted to be just like him. He’d been Wyatt Earp and John Wayne combined to a young Wade. Seeing him in this state of depression was even harder. Now Wade would have to be the strong one.

He gripped his cup. “Pop, this drinking has to stop.”

Jock held his head with both hands. “My head’s pounding, son, and if I get angry it might explode.”

“Then stop drinking.”

“What else have I got to do?”

“Work this ranch like you always have.” He paused, using all the ammunition he had. “That’s what Zach would want.”

Jock gulped down a swallow of coffee. “I don’t want to talk about Zach.”

“We have to,” Wade insisted, knowing they had to get to the root of Jock’s problem. “You blame me. You haven’t come out and said it, but I know you do.”

Jock glared at him through bloodshot eyes. “Why did you let him go to that party? Why?”

It was the first time Jock had asked that question and it was long overdue. Wade removed his hat and slowly placed it on the table, that permanent knot in his stomach felt like a rope pulled taut. To avoid the pain, he could get up and walk away like he always did. But he couldn’t do that anymore or soon that rope would choke him to death.

He swallowed to ease the knot. “Zach wanted to go and it was a party for twelve-year-olds. Kim and I thought it would be safe.”

“But it wasn’t, was it?”

Unable to sit any longer, he stood and jammed both hands through his hair, losing control. “No. I killed him because I didn’t check out the situation. Does that make you feel better?”

Jock hung his head.

“I will feel the guilt of his death every day of my life, but I’m not going to sit by and watch you drink yourself to death. You and I are left to face this world so let’s do it the best way we can. Without arguing—like Zach would want.”

“Zach never liked it when you and I argued.” Jock brushed hair out of his eyes.

“No,” Wade agreed. “He loved us both.”

“Yeah. He was a good kid. I just don’t see why those boys didn’t get jail time.”

Wade took his seat again, suddenly feeling a relief to be able to talk about his son. “I tried everything I could, but they were twelve years old. They’re on probation until they’re twenty-one and their activities are monitored. That’s all the court would do.”

That still rankled Wade, but he’d learned to live with it the best way he could.

An awkward silence followed.

“Pop, there’s a kid in town who wants to ride a horse. Lucky needs to be ridden and—”

Jock stumbled to his feet. “Nobody rides that horse. Nobody.”

Jock hobbled away and Wade buried his face in his hands. Was life always going to be like this? He’d had just about his limit. From out of nowhere, Callie Austin’s face appeared in his mind and he wondered why he could see it so clearly.

THE NEXT MORNING, Callie woke up to noise and she scrambled from her bag into her clothes. She heard the pounding of a hammer, the whiz of a saw, the buzz of a mower and voices—several voices.

“What’s that?” Adam asked, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

“I’ll check. Stay with your sisters.”

Callie opened her front door and stopped short. People were everywhere and she didn’t know any of them. Two men were working on the picket fence, another was mowing the grass. Several men were working on the roof and the column. Odell stepped up on the porch with a tool belt that looked bigger than him around his waist.

“Odell, what’s going on?”

“You told me to fix up the place and that’s what I’m doing.”

“I’m paying for all these people?”

“No, ma’am. The guy mowing is Walter and he’s retired and just likes to mow. He helps out the new residents—sort of makes them feel welcome. That’s Delbert and his son, Little Del, working on the fence. They help out when they can and they owe me a favor. And the men working on the house I hired so I can do the job as quickly as possible. That’s what you wanted, right?”

“Yes,” she answered absently, realizing for the first time that no one ever said their last name. Everybody knew everybody, Wade had said, so she supposed there was no need, except she didn’t know anyone. It would help to know a last name, especially if it was Collins.

“We’ll have the column and porches secured by the end of the day then I can start on the inside.”

“Thank you, Odell,” she said, feeling as if she were in a trance as she went back into the house. Wade had said the people were friendly and he was right. Maybe a little too friendly. No one did anything for free, did they? She was budgeting her money and she had to be careful so that it lasted a year.

THE DAYS THAT FOLLOWED were busy and hectic and she became more familiar with the town and its people. The kids absolutely loved Tanner’s General Store, where anything from beef jerky to toys to large jars of assorted hard candies could be found. Then there were barrels stuffed with gourmet treats. Adam went for the pickle jar while the girls debated over the candy. Callie favored the food area where the meat and produce were fresh and the best she’d ever seen. She missed cooking, but knew it would be awhile before her kitchen was ready. They were making do with a hot plate and that limited what they could eat.

She found there were very few good places to eat in Homestead. There was a kolache shop, a Dairy Queen and the Lone Wolf Bar. She was told that no self-respecting woman would be caught dead in there. Then there was a barbecue place and small diner that looked as bad as the Lone Wolf. That’s when the idea had come to Callie. She couldn’t take a whole year without cooking, so she decided to open a café.

At first the idea seemed crazy since she wasn’t planning on staying in Homestead. But repairing the house was going to take a lot of money and she needed a way to earn an income. She didn’t want her savings to dwindle down to nothing. And cooking was what she did.

A decent place to eat would be good for the town and it would keep her busy, keep her from constantly worrying. The right side of the house would work for the café. Frances Haase had explained that in the old days, the Victorian house had been built to accommodate the entertainment of men and women. There hadn’t been much to do besides go to a local bar and the upstanding citizens hadn’t done that—or if they had, no one had ever spoken of it. Instead, they’d entertained in their homes.

The right parlor was where the men had gathered with their cronies to play poker or cards and to smoke cigars and indulge in their drink of choice. In the left parlor, the women had had their side to gather with friends to knit, crochet or quilt and to imbibe a drink if they so chose without their husband’s permission. Large sliding doors were in a pocket of the wall on each side of the entry and could easily be pulled for privacy.

Each area had access to the kitchen, which made Callie’s idea perfect. With the bedrooms upstairs and the parlors and dining room downstairs, the left side would be their home. Callie became excited with her plans for the kitchen and the café. She talked with Odell and he seemed to be able to do everything she wanted. For once, something else occupied her mind besides fear.

The kids were helping with the cleanup and they were more energetic. Odell had redone the staircase to make sure it was safe and the kids had chosen their rooms upstairs. Although, Callie suspected Mary Beth and Brit wouldn’t sleep in their own room for a while—even Adam, for that fact. But it was okay. They were safe for now.

Buddy and Rascal were regular visitors and while Mary Beth played with Rascal, Buddy helped on the house. One day she made fresh lemonade for all the workers. Del sat in one of the rockers taking a break.

“Mighty good lemonade,” he said.

“Thank you.” Callie thought for a minute then asked, “I don’t believe I caught your last name?”