Lonestar Angel (14 page)

The flicker of her lids showed her uncertainty. “He didn’t say much about it.”

“I’m not surprised. You never noticed the way Daniel looked at you. Like you belonged to him. He objected to Kent too, didn’t he?”

“What if he did? He was just looking out for me.”

“Have you heard from Daniel since you’ve been here?”

Her frown held confusion. “He called the night you showed up but didn’t leave a message. H-He hadn’t been accepting my calls.”

“What does that tell you?”

“That he would have gotten over it, just like he got over me marrying you. I’m all he has. I should call him again.”

“Again? You’ve tried calling him?”

She frowned and nodded. “Before you showed up and since we’ve been here. He still hasn’t returned my calls, though, which isn’t like him.”

His insides felt like they were twisted ropes of hot lead. Forbidding her to call the jerk would escalate the tension, but he wanted to tell her to open her eyes. The guy was way too possessive.

“He had the nerve to call me up after you left me,” he said, unable to hold it in any longer.

Backing away, she shook her head. “Daniel called you in South America?”

“Sure did. Right in the middle of an interview. Told me you were through with me. Like I didn’t know that already.”

She batted her eyes and chewed on her lip. “He never told me.”

“Of course he didn’t. He thought with me out of the picture, he could move in on you. Why didn’t he? Or did he try and you were too naive to see it?”

“Well, he tried to kiss me once,” she admitted, almost to herself. “I told him it was sweet of him to try to comfort me, but I didn’t need that kind of attention. I just assumed . . .”

“You guessed wrong. I bet he’s fuming since he found out you ran off with me.”

“He’d understand I have to find Brianna.” But her lids flickered and she glanced away.

At least she had a few doubts. Crossing his arms across his chest, he glared at her. “If he’s so understanding, why hasn’t he called?”

“I’m sure he has a good reason.”

She was blind where that guy was concerned. “Dinner’s getting cold,” he said. She walked behind him into the house.

When they stepped into the living room, Paige came rushing toward them. “Mr. Clay, look what I found!” She thrust a yellowed yearbook at him and pointed to a picture of the Spanish Club. “Is that your dad? India says that boy’s name is Clyde Larson.”

He stared at the photo. “No, it’s my cousin.” The boy beside his cousin made him squint and take a closer look.
It couldn’t be
. “Eden, look here.” He thrust the book under her nose. “Who does that look like?”

She leaned over the page and gasped. “It’s the kidnapper who drowned!”

“I thought so too. Says here his name is Jose Santiago.”

“We need to let the detectives who worked on the case know,” she said.

He nodded. “Santiago is a common name, though. It may tell them nothing.” But that man’s identity might be the clue they needed to figure this all out.

Eden gave the sheriff a statement about the missing truck. She and Clay also showed him the picture of Jose Santiago, and he promised to call the detective about it. He already knew about the snake and the note on the door.

After he left, Eden flounced in the bed. She held the cotton quilt under her nose to blot out the alluring scent of Clay on the other side of the bed. Those moments in Clay’s arms when she got home tonight replayed over and over in her head. How natural it had felt. How wonderful. It had taken all her strength to make herself back away. Had he felt anything at all? She doubted it. All he wanted was to find their daughter.

Which was her goal as well. Her only goal.

Clay’s accusations against Daniel made her squirm. He’d been like a brother since she was ten. There wasn’t anything between them but friendship. Both foster kids, they’d clung together through their growing-up years in the same foster home.

But why hadn’t he called? She should call him again. Before she realized it, her bare feet were on the cool hardwood floors. She eased open the bedroom door. Clay’s even breathing didn’t stop, so she pulled the door shut noiselessly behind her and padded down the hall. The glow of the nightlight lit the path. She hesitated long enough to peek in on the girls. All sleeping.

The clock on the stove glowed the numbers 10:10. After eleven back in Indiana. She went to the sofa and picked up the phone. Sinking onto the cushion, she listened to the call go through. His phone rang five times, and she was trying to decide whether to leave a message or hang up when he finally answered.

“Hello, Eden.”

His voice was odd. Cold, detached. Normally, he was happy to hear from her. This man seemed a stranger, not her best friend. “How did you know it was me?”

“I heard you went to Bluebird Ranch. That’s what came up on the caller ID.”

“Daniel? You sound—odd. Is something wrong?”

“What could be wrong?” Still that remoteness.

“You haven’t called.”

“You run off with a husband who deserted you and leave me without a word.” The words ran together, faster and faster. “I finally got it, Eden. I might be stupid but I finally got it.”

She paced in front of the sofa. “What are you talking about?”

“Good old Daniel was always there to pick up the pieces, wasn’t he? Well, I’m through being your whipping boy.” Passion finally sparked his voice. He was nearly shouting by the time he finished.

“You were never my whipping boy. You’re my best friend.”

“I showed you in so many ways I wanted to be more than that, Eden. When you decided to marry Kent, I thought I could deal with it. I’d start easing away so I didn’t humiliate myself any more than I already had.”

To her horror, she realized he was crying. Her throat tightened, and she wanted to weep with him. “I never knew, Daniel. Really. I love you like a brother.”

“Brother! I don’t want to be your brother. Lover, husband. That’s my role. But you never saw it. You’ve kicked me for the last time, Eden Davidson.”

“Larson,” she whispered. “My divorce from Clay was never finalized.” Why hadn’t she understood all this sooner?

“So I heard. How do you think I felt—to find out from rumors around town? Couldn’t you at least have bothered to call me yourself? If I’m your best friend and all.”

“I . . . I . . .” She gulped back the tears. “You’re right. I should have. Clay told me Brianna was still alive, and everything else just flew from my mind.” The strength ran out of her legs, and she sank onto the ground. What had she done to Daniel?

Silence echoed on the other end of the connection. “Brianna? I hadn’t heard that one. What kind of trick is he pulling on you now?”

“No trick. She’s here. We’ll figure it out in just a few more days.”

“Then what?” His voice softened, grew lower.

Was he hoping . . . ? Surely not. “Then we try to rebuild our lives. To help her get over whatever has happened to her.”

“You’re not coming home?” His voice was sharp again.

“Not now. Brianna is all that matters.” The reminder of her priorities strengthened her. She rose and leaned against the wall, wrapping the cord around her arm.

“I see. Of course. I was never important. I keep trying to find some way around that truth.”

The silence on the other end was so long she thought he’d hung up on her. “Daniel?”

“I’m here.” He sighed, a long, drawn-out sound. “I went by your apartment. Doesn’t look like you forwarded your mail. Your box was full so I took it inside.”

“Thanks.” Where was this going?

“There was a letter from the court. I opened it.”

“You opened my mail?”

“It looked important.”

She couldn’t be angry. She’d always shared everything with Daniel. “What was it?”

“Your birth mother is trying to find you.”

Of all the things she might have guessed, the thought wouldn’t have crossed her mind. “What does the letter say?”

“Just what I told you.”

“My birth mom.” She couldn’t take it in. “What if I don’t want to see her?”

“Nothing will proceed unless you agree. I tried to call them to get more details, but the receptionist said you’d have to call yourself. I’ll text you the phone number.”

Eden couldn’t think past the pain squeezing her chest. After all these years, her mother was trying to find her. Why? And did she even want to see the woman after all these years? What good would it do? But even as she tried to talk herself out of it, the desire to ask her mother why she’d been abandoned welled up.

“Send me the number,” she said.

“I said I would. Then we’re square. Good-bye, Eden. Don’t call me again.”

The connection broke in her ear. She stared at the phone stupidly. Her best friend was gone. Maybe it was for the best. She’d been so blind. What else was she wrong about? Everything?

14

T
HE MOON SPILLED IN THROUGH THE WINDOW AS
E
DEN TIPTOED BACK INTO THE BEDROOM
.
Her nose was still clogged with tears. As she reached her side of the mattress, the moon went behind a cloud and plunged the room into darkness. Feeling her way, she pulled back the sheet and quilt.

Clay’s side of the bed was much too quiet when she eased between the sheets. The springs squeaked and she winced. She was cold, so cold. Mostly because she knew what she was going to do. Tomorrow she would call the office and say she wanted to see her mother. Then what? Did she expect her mother to rush to her with open arms? To ask for forgiveness? And could Eden even give it if her mother asked?

Shivering, she pulled the sheet up to her chin. It was hot outside, but the air-conditioning was too cold. Or else it was stress. Clay’s warmth radiated out from him, and remembering how safe she’d felt in his arms earlier, she wished she could curl up against his back.

Clay’s deep voice came out of the darkness. “Is your
brother
okay?” His voice was derisive. He rolled in the bed, and the springs protested.

“I . . . I don’t know what to think,” she said. To her horror, her voice shook. He wouldn’t understand her quandary. He’d go see Eden’s mom, tell her she was worthless, then never see her again. Good riddance. Eden should feel that way too, but she didn’t.

“Hey, what’s the matter?” He scooted closer, and his arm came around her. His breath stirred her hair. “Did you have to cover yourself from head to toe?” he asked, a smile in his voice. He didn’t wait for an answer. “Tell me what’s upset you.”

The musky scent of his skin left her motionless when she should have moved away. His warmth seeped into her. He pulled her closer and she didn’t protest, though every nerve shouted the danger to her emotions. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

His fingers tangled in her hair, and he pulled her so close there was no room down the full length of her body.
Danger!

“It’s dark. You can tell me your secrets and I can’t see your face.” His lips brushed her cheek.

The desire to talk to him swept over her. What could it hurt to unburden her soul? There’d been so few times in her life that she could tell anyone how she felt. Even when they were together before, she was always sure he’d married her because she was pregnant.

What was different now? She couldn’t define the difference, but she knew it was there. There was a special bond now that had never existed before. The wariness that had held them apart was gone.

She turned her face against his neck and inhaled. “My mother wants to see me.”

His hand smoothed her hair. “So tell her to come down. There’s room here in the bunkhouse.” His warm chuckle came from the darkness. “I’d like to see your foster mom sharing a bathroom with the kids. She’ll be in there and one of them will come flying in yelling at her to get out of the way.”

She should laugh, but nothing felt funny. “You don’t understand. My real mother.”

His arm seemed heavier across her midsection. His muscles hardened too. His hand quit petting her hair. “After all these years?”

She nodded her head, though she knew he couldn’t see it. Her throat thickened. She hated to cry. Strength, not weakness, was admirable. “I want to ask her why she abandoned me. But I don’t want to face that rejection all over again.”