All Roads Lead to Texas. Linda WarrenЧитать онлайн книгу.
He was like the Marlboro man and Brad Pitt rolled into a gorgeous package of Texas masculinity. She brought herself up short. She must be experiencing road lag. Or a mental block. The last thing she needed was to be attracted to the local sheriff. For that’s what he was. It said so right there on his badge attached to the shirt that covered his very broad chest.
Buddy rubbed the dog’s head. “He just likes to play, Wade.”
“Try telling that to Mrs. Meyers. She said her chickens won’t lay for a week now.”
“I’ll go over yonder and apologize.”
“What’s his name?” Mary Beth asked, patting the dog.
“Rascal,” Buddy said. “Rascal’s a bad dog.”
“Better keep him penned up for a while or at least until Mrs. Meyers cools off.”
“Sure ’nuff, Wade.” He motioned toward Callie. “This is Callie Austin and her youngins. New arrivals for the Home Free Program.”
“Howdy, ma’am. Wade Montgomery, sheriff of Loveless County.” He tipped his hat and held out his hand. “Welcome to Homestead.”
Callie had no choice. She took his hand—a hand that was strong and firm—probably like the man himself. Then she made the mistake of looking into his brown eyes and felt herself melting like butter on a hot grill. Heavens, he was handsome. And the sheriff. That little fact had her stepping back and taking control of her emotions.
“Thank you. We really have to go. It’s been a long trip.” She took Brit’s arm, but Mary Beth was entranced with the dog and Callie knew it wasn’t going to be easy to get her away from him.
“You have the Hellmuth house.”
Callie glanced up. “Yes,” she answered, wondering how he knew that.
As if he was clairvoyant, he added, “I’m on the Home Free Committee so I know about your situation.”
Chills trickled down her spine and she resisted the urge to bite her nails. “My situation?”
“Yes. Your husband passing away and your desire for a fresh start in a small town to raise your children.”
It took all of her effort not to show relief. Of course, he would have read her application—an application that was all lies. She had to concentrate on who she was supposed to be and not who she really was. And she definitely had to stop acting so guilty.
She put an arm around Brit and Adam. “We’re looking forward to our new life.”
He looked at her with a strange glint in his eyes. “I was surprised you applied for that house.”
Did the man ever stop with the conversation? She wanted to leave, but she couldn’t do that until the sheriff was satisfied. “Why?” she asked abruptly.
The good sheriff didn’t seem to notice her annoyance. “Because it’s very run-down and needs a lot of work. Miranda said she explained all that to you and you still wanted it.”
“Yes.” Her backbone stiffened. “I plan to fix it up.”
“We had the gas, water and electricity turned on, but I’m not sure it’s livable.”
What business is it of yours? she wanted to ask, but bit her tongue. “We’ll manage,” she said instead.
“I’ll just drive over there with you and make sure. Follow me.”
“There’s no…” Her words trailed away. The sheriff was already strolling to his car.
“Let’s go,” Callie said to the kids.
“Can we take Rascal?” Mary Beth asked, stroking the dog.
“Rascal belongs to Buddy,” Callie reminded her.
“Oh.” Mary Beth’s bottom lip quivered.
“I’ll bring him over to see you,” Buddy said. “How’s that?”
“’Kay.” Mary Beth nodded and climbed into the Suburban. “Bye, Rascal. Bye, Buddy.”
As they drove away, Adam whispered, “What are we going to do?” Fear was evident in his every word.
“For one thing, we’re going to act normal and stop being so nervous and tensing at the sight of every police officer. We’re here now and it’s time to start our new life.”
“But he’s the sheriff,” Adam stated, in case she wasn’t aware of that.
“Relax, Adam. This is Homestead, Texas. No one has heard of us or even cares for that matter. We have a new beginning. Is everyone ready?” She held up her hand for a high five.
Reluctantly, Adam raised his hand and gave her a high five. “Ready,” he said.
“Ready,” Brit and Mary Beth chorused from the backseat.
“I want a horse,” Brit said.
“I want a dog,” Mary Beth added.
Adam turned to glare at his sisters. “Will you two grow up?”
“Shut up,” Brit snapped back. “You’re not our boss and I’m nine and I don’t want to grow up just yet. So there, you big bully.”
“You’re stupid,” Adam told her.
“You’re stupider.”
“Time out,” Callie intervened. “Everybody quiet. Not one more word.”
She didn’t need them arguing right now. She had to keep her focus on the sheriff. As she took a ragged breath, she wondered if she was ever going to breathe normally again.
Following the sheriff’s car toward the business district of Homestead, she hoped something would jog her memory from her childhood, but nothing looked familiar. The large yellow stone courthouse with granite columns was in the center of a town square shaded by big live oaks with drooping branches. Inviting benches were nestled beneath them. Several older men were sitting there chatting, whiling away the pleasant summer day.
Callie glanced up at the imposing clock tower and the scene triggered something in her mind, but for the life of her she didn’t know what it was.
Soon her attention was diverted by the town itself. Many businesses were boarded up. The town had a deserted feel and she could see what Miranda was talking about. People were leaving, looking for better jobs, a better life. It was a sad scenario for a small town. Hence the Home Free Program—a way to bring people back.
Miranda knew that Callie didn’t plan to stay forever, but she’d promised her a year and to fix up the house. Callie intended to do that. Her lawyer had told her it would probably take a year for her to gain custody of the children. At that time, a judge would decide if Callie would face any charges for abducting them. That part she didn’t want to think about.
She turned from Main Street onto Bluebonnet and the feel of bygone days was very evident. There was no Gap or Starbucks, just a kolache shop, a hardware store, a general store called Tanner’s and a dollar store that was the closest thing she saw to a clothing store. The storefronts looked old, but their bricks and mortar had stood the test of time. Their occupants had not.
A truck pulling a horse trailer was parked parallel at the hardware store, blocking traffic. The sheriff stopped to speak with the driver. A cowboy stepped out of the truck in worn boots and jeans.
“Look, Callie, there’s a cowboy,” Brit shouted. “Wow! He’s got boots. I need boots. Can I get boots?”
“Me, too,” Mary Beth chimed in.
“We’ll see,” Callie answered absently, her thoughts on other things.
She was glad when the sheriff got back in his car and continued on his way. When he stopped at the large three-story Victorian house, Callie caught her breath. It was exactly like