Lonestar Homecoming (29 page)

She pulled onto the road again. Her father's house was only five miles away.The closer the car rolled to her destination, the slower she went. Facing God with her failures had been easier than what lay ahead of her. Her father could order her off the property. He might shut the door in her face.

The road loomed just ahead. She forced herself to slow, then turn down the road. The macadam strummed a message against her tires.
Turn back, turn back
, it said. As she came to the driveway, she nearly obeyed the insistent command. But no. She'd come this far. Hope deserved a better life. She deserved a grandfather, and the dad Gracie remembered would dote on her daughter.

Even if he threw Gracie to the vultures.

Her cell phone rang. She slowed the car and grabbed it. “Hello, Cid,” she said, keeping her voice low. “I thought you'd call.”

“It is now time to come home, Gracie. I know where you are. If you do not come, the next bomb we leave for your husband will not be discovered. And we will make sure to put one in the little ones' rooms too.”

She couldn't breathe, couldn't speak. In her mind's eye, she saw the explosion, the blood on dear Michael's face, the screams of the children. “Cid, I'm married.What's the point of this?”

“I will tell you when you come,” he said, his voice inflexible. “And do not think of refusing. I have your horse, and he will go to the pet food factory if you do not show up.”

She gasped. “King? You took my horse?”

“If you can call that piece of flesh a horse.”

No plea would move him. The obsession in his voice had grown more strident. She smelled oranges. “You're cruel, Cid,” she whispered. “Take him home. I'll come.”

“I thought so.”

“Where should I meet you?” she finally managed to whisper.

“Davis Mountains Indian Lodge. At five.”

“Davis Mountains Indian Lodge,” she repeated. “Where?”

“There's a picnic area.”

He gave her directions, and she committed them to memory. “I'll be there,” she said.

“Yes, you will. Or your new husband and his brats are dead.”

The phone clicked in her ear, then fell out of her nerveless fingers. “Oranges, just like his sister,” she muttered.

Her hands trembled, and she clutched them in her lap. She swallowed hard and put the phone away. Her father's house peeked over the hill. She accelerated the last few feet, then slowed. The tires quit their litany when they hit the smooth blacktop driveway.

The car rolled to a stop. She shut off the engine, then sat looking at the house. Glancing in the rearview mirror, she saw Hope was still asleep. Good.This was a conversation best made between her and her father first. She ran down the windows, then eased open her door.A gentle click latched it without waking Hope. The sun glared in her eyes, and she squinted.The door to the house stood open, barred only with the screen door. Dad must be outside, in the barn or the garden.

After making sure Hope still slept, she walked to the side of the house.The sweet smell of freshly turned earth told her where to find her father. She stood watching him as he stooped among the last of the tomatoes. He was a little grayer, a little heavier, but still the man she remembered. The man who used to play horsey with her. The father who took her for ice cream on Saturdays. The daddy who read her a story at night before he tucked her into bed.

Then he turned and their eyes met.

“G
RACIE
?” M
ICHAEL CALLED
. H
E LET THE FRONT DOOR BANG BEHIND HIM
.
The house held a still quality that put his senses on high alert. “Anyone here?”

Caesar's ears stood up, and he padded to the kitchen, where Michael heard him lap from his water bowl. The dog detected no intruders. Michael followed him. “Find Gracie, boy.” The dog licked his chops and whined but made no move to leave.

She wasn't here.

She was at Bluebird Ranch. His terror had driven today's plans from his mind. Even as his relief blew from his lips, a paper on the table caught his attention. He recognized Gracie's handwriting. His name was at the top.

Michael, I'm so sorry, but I have to leave. It's better for you and the kids if you don't try to find me. I love you too much to stay. Gracie.

It took a moment for the words to penetrate. Leave? As in go for good? No, he wouldn't accept that. Gracie loved him. She wouldn't go off and leave a cold note behind. Pain crushed his chest. His hand spasmed around the paper, and it crumpled under the pressure.

“Don't do this to me, Gracie,” he muttered.

He released his grip on the note and smoothed it to reread it.That's what she meant—that she was leaving him for good. The strength ran out of his legs, and he sat heavily in the chair. A family didn't disintegrate when times got tough. Not if they loved one another. Could someone have made her write this? The warning from the woman at the river came to mind. He had to find Gracie, protect her. She had very little money, so she couldn't have gone far.

She had no vehicle. She either left here with help, or under duress. He grabbed his cell phone and dialed Allie.

“Hey, Michael,” she said when she answered.

“Has Gracie been back since she went to feed the livestock?”

The smile left her voice, and she shook her head. “Is everything okay?”

He sagged against the wall. “She left a note at the house saying it would be better for us if she was gone. Did she say anything at all?”

“She just said she'd be back after feeding the horses. Um, Michael, speaking of the horses, did you give King away?”

“Of course not. Gracie loves that horse.”

“I could have sworn that was him in a trailer that went by about half an hour ago.”

Michael went to the window and stared toward the barn. He didn't see the horse, but Allie must have been mistaken.“Where could she have gone?” he muttered.

“Is it because Jordan was nearly kidnapped yesterday?”

Caesar whined and Michael stooped to rub his ears. “I think her old boyfriend has found her. She's trying to escape again. But he'll just find her like he did this time. It's not that hard these days.”

“Does she have any family who would help?”

“Her father,” he said, suddenly remembering. “I bet she's gone to Pecos.”

“That's not running very far.”

“No. No, it's not. Which means if she's there, it's just her first stop. I've got to figure out his name and where he lives.Thanks,Allie.”

“You want Rick to come with you? I can get him from the barn. He could fly you there.”

“That's a great idea! I'll be down as soon as I have an address. Is it okay if I call the school and have the kids get off the bus at your house?”

“Of course.And we'll take care of the horses if you're not back in time.”

He closed his phone, then went to the living room, where he got his laptop and ran a search for the last name of Lister. Bingo. Only one in Pecos. That narrowed it down. He printed out the address, then yelled for Caesar and ran to the truck.

When he reached it, he glanced toward the barn.The corral gate was open. He jogged across the scruffy yard. King wasn't anywhere to be seen. Michael walked around the barn. Still no sign of the horse. The barn held only Fabio, who nickered when he saw Michael.

Could someone have stolen King? But why would someone steal a poor, broken-down horse? Frowning, he jogged back to the truck, then drove toward town. He dialed the school on the way.

Fifteen minutes later, he sat back in the front passenger seat of Rick's Cessna as the small plane soared over the desert landscape. From this vantage point, the Rio Grande was a blue ribbon in a brown, gold, and red tapestry.The roar of the engines filled his head, but it couldn't drown out the voices inside. Since he found the note, he hadn't stopped begging God to lead him to his wife.

Rick glanced at him. “You doing okay, buddy?”

“Not really. I can't believe she'd do anything like this. Look.There are things you don't know.” Michael filled him in on how their marriage had begun and why.

Rick listened intently as he guided the plane. “So this Hispanic woman said to take care of your wife and her daughter. And she knew your name.That doesn't sound good.”

“I rushed home to find Gracie gone. I'm wondering if she got another call, or if the incident yesterday spooked her.” He wanted to pound something. “She doesn't have any way to protect herself or Hope. I had no trouble finding her dad.They won't either.”

“Unless she isn't planning on staying there. Maybe she hopes to ask for money or some other kind of help.”

“They haven't spoken in years. If he turns her away, what then? She'll be at the mercy of whoever is looking for her.”

“Any idea who that is?”

“She thinks it's an old boyfriend with ties to a cartel. I'm not so sure.And why try to take Jordan yesterday? Is that part of this, or was it Vargas?” Michael took off his cowboy hat and rubbed his forehead.

He saw the runway ahead. He'd soon have answers. He hoped.

25

G
RACIE'S MUSCLES FROZE WHEN HER EYES MET HER FATHER'S
. I
T HAD
been so very long since she'd last looked into those blue orbs. Her own eyes were carbon copies, right down to the long, straight lashes. The veins in her neck pulsed and expanded as she waited for his reaction.

His hand came up to shade his eyes, and she realized the glare of the sun might be obscuring a clear vision of who she was. She could have called out, but she waited, willing him to recognize her. A bird called from the fence post and the breeze lifted the hair from her hot neck. Maybe she'd have no choice but to tell him.When recognition claimed his expression, she would know whether to turn and run away or walk forward.

He squinted, and his jaw dropped.The shovel fell from his hand. He started forward in a gait that changed to a run. His arms opened. “Gracie, oh, baby girl!”

The sound of his voice filled her vision with soft green clouds, and she smelled fresh-mown hay. Only her dad's voice was like that. A sob erupted from her throat, and she leaped toward him. Her feet barely skimmed the ground, and she watched his face. His face contorted as tears ran down his cheeks. His shambling lope stopped three feet from her. His gaze roamed her face as though he feared she would vanish.

He opened his arms. “Gracie? It
is
you.You've come home.”

Gracie stepped into the shelter of his embrace. Her face pressed against his shirt. It smelled of damp dirt and Juicy Fruit gum. His arms were tight bands around her, and she knew he wouldn't let her go anytime soon. She had no plans to leave his embrace either.

“Daddy,” she choked out. “Daddy, I've missed you.”

His rough hands, still smelling of earth, smoothed her hair. “I wasn't even sure you were alive. I've prayed for you every day, honey. And listened for the sound of your footsteps.”

Tears squeezed from under her shut lids. “I didn't mean to hurt you,” she choked out. “I'm so sorry, Daddy. For everything.”

She burrowed her face tighter against his chest. A million memories flooded her mind: Laughing with her parents over Scrabble in the evenings. She and her dad mucking out the barn every Saturday. Hanging clothes on the line out back with her mom. She'd ruined it all by her cowardice and selfishness.

“Hush, baby girl,” he crooned. “You're home now.That's all I want.”

She raised her head. “Mom died because of me.”

“It was an accident, Gracie,” he said gently. “It's not your fault.”

Hoarse sobs burst from her throat. “It was, Daddy. You don't know. I didn't tell you.”

He held up his hand. “Gracie, I found the pregnancy test in the trash in your room. I know.” His voice was heavy with sorrow.

She gulped and went on. “It's not just that. I knew that horse was dangerous. I got on the horse because I thought it would throw me. I. . . I hoped a fall would make me miscarry.” She searched his face to see if her words had killed his love.

He nodded heavily. “I'm not stupid, honey.When I found the positive test, I thought that's what you'd done.We all knew how dangerous Diablo was.”

“Can you ever forgive me?”

“Can you forgive me? I said terrible things to you that night.”

“I deserved them all,” she whispered.

The light in his eyes dimmed but didn't go out. “Did you make that horse rear? No, Gracie.You didn't. It was an accident.”

She buried her face in his shirt again. “I wanted to get rid of Hope. I'm so ashamed.”

He pulled her away and studied her face. “You. . . you have a child, honey?” His voice wobbled.

She nodded. “Her name is Hope. She's five.”

“You named her after your mother,” he said, his voice awed.

“Yes. She looks like Mom too.” Every time she looked in Hope's face, she remembered what she'd done.The penance had been terrible.

His eyes grew wet. “It's a beautiful name.”

“I thought it would bring me luck and give us hope for a future, but I couldn't outrun what I'd done.”

He glanced over her shoulder. “Where is she?”

“In the car. I'll get her.” But she didn't want to move from his embrace. “Daddy, you didn't answer. Do you forgive me?”

His eyes widened. “Forgive you? Of course, Gracie, of course.” He hugged her again. “There's nothing you could do that would make me stop loving you.”

“You never called. I always had the same cell phone number, so I thought you hated me.”

He rubbed his chin. “I tried to do it so many times. Every time I picked up the phone, I heard God whisper, ‘No.'”

Her throat constricted. “Maybe I had to be ready too,” she whispered.