by Linda Warren
WHEN ABBY GOT BACK to the house, she couldn’t sleep. She tossed and turned and kept staring at the clock. At six, she grabbed the phone and called Dallas. She had to talk to her friend Holly.
“Hello,” a sleepy voice answered.
“Holly, it’s Abby.”
“Do you know what time it is?”
“Yes, but you’re always up early.”
“I was out late last night.”
“Date or assignment?”
“Assignment.”
“I should have guessed.” Abby laughed.
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying we’re both dedicated to our work.”
“Yeah,” Holly said. “But there’s this new guy in accounting, and I’ve got my eye on him.” She yawned. “Why are you calling so early?”
“I wanted to run something by you.”
“Okay, but I’m not thinking too clearly just yet.”
Abby and Holly had been friends since their freshman year in college, and later they had worked at the same newspaper, Abby as a reporter and Holly as a photographer. They lived in the same apartment complex and saw each other daily. Even after Abby had married, they remained close. Abby had told her about writing Mr. Brewster’s memoirs and Holly had understood because she knew how much Abby had loved her father. Now Abby explained to her friend Mr. Brewster’s odd request.
“Wow,” Holly said. “This is totally out of the blue.”
“Yes, but I’m going to do it,” Abby answered, then asked, “Do you think it’s crazy?”
“Not for you. I know how desperately you want to clear your father’s name. Just be careful.”
“I will, but Mr. Brewster thinks Jonas should go with me.”
“The guy with the muscles and unfriendly attitude.”
“That’s him—the man with ‘don’t touch’ written all over him.”
“That’s the way you want it, isn’t it?”
“Of course” was Abby’s quick response.
“You’re not saying that with too much enthusiasm. Are you attracted to this man?”
“Oh, please.” She started to deny it, then stopped. “Okay, I’ll admit there’s something there, but it’s purely sexual.”
“So indulge. You’ve earned it.”
“For heaven’s sake, Holly, are you still asleep or what?”
“I must be or I’d never suggest such a thing, hmm?”
They both laughed.
“If you have to do this, do it, but as I said before, be very careful. And if Brewster wants Jonas to go along, let him. What could it hurt? And don’t give me that bull about not needing a man. Common sense overrules that notion.”
“Oh, Holly, it’s so good to talk to you.”
“So when are you coming back? Tanya’s getting ticked off at her workload and Phil asked if you might return early.”
Phil was her editor. He’d granted her a six-week leave of absence, and Abby was going to need every day of that to resolve things in Hope.
“I don’t think I can now, but I’ll call Phil and explain.”
“Okay, and keep me posted on what’s happening.”
“I will. Now go back to sleep.”
“Yeah, right.”
After Abby hung up, she sat staring into space. At least Holly understood why she had to do this. But a tiny doubt lurked in the back of her mind. Was she doing the right thing? Yes, for her father she had to do it. She knew Mr. Brewster was manipulating her. She didn’t need Jonas to tell her that. Still, she couldn’t let it go. She had to find out the truth.
And now she had to find a way to tell her mother.
CHAPTER THREE
ABBY GOT UP and made her way to the kitchen. As she made coffee, her thoughts ran helter-skelter. Her mother would be upset. How should Abby handle this? Before she could form a plan, her mother walked into the kitchen in her pink flowered robe.
“You’re up early,” Gail said, and poured a cup of coffee.
“I couldn’t sleep,” Abby replied.
Gail sat at the table. “You’re still not worried that Kyle might come here, are you?”
Abby shook her head and took a seat. Kyle was the furthest thing from her mind. When she first returned home, she’d been afraid that he might follow her, but so far, nothing. Maybe Kyle had gotten on with his life. She hoped so because she had no intention of seeing him again.
“I had this strange dream last night,” her mother was saying. “I thought I heard your car leaving and I tried to wake up, but I couldn’t. It seemed so real.”
Abby squirmed in her chair. God, did her mother have mental telepathy or what? When she was sixteen, she and a friend had skipped school and driven to Brownsville to stand in line for tickets to a rock concert. Somehow her mother had known. The principal hadn’t called and notified her of Abby’s absence. Her mother just knew by looking at her face. Surely Abby had matured and learned how to hide those guilty feelings. Maybe not, she conceded. Maturity was no match for her mother’s intuition.
She took a sip of coffee. “I did leave last night.”
Her mother’s hand stopped in mid-motion as she stirred sugar into her coffee. “You did?”
“Yes.”
“Where did you go?”
“To the hospital.”
A worried look entered Gail’s eyes, and Abby hastened to reassure her. “No, there’s nothing wrong with me. Mr. Brewster had a heart attack, and a nurse at the hospital called and said he asked to see me.”
“Oh.” Her mother leaned back. “I guess he wanted to give you some important details on his memoirs.”
“No, it wasn’t about the memoirs.”
“Then, why in the world would he want to see you in the middle of the night?”
Abby fingered her cup. “Mom, do you ever remember hearing about Mr. Brewster having an affair?”
“An affair?” Gail almost choked. “Good Lord, no. Who’d sleep with that old fool?”
“Mr. Brewster’s not the most handsome man in the world, but he does have money, and I’m told that’s a great aphrodisiac.”
Her mother rose and hurried to the sink. “Abigail, where do you get this nonsense? And what does it have to do with why you went to the hospital last night?”
Abby drew a deep breath. “Mr. Brewster says he has a daughter.”
Gail whirled around with a shocked look on her face. “A daughter?”
“Yes, he says he had an affair with a Mexican girl that worked in his house over thirty years ago. The girl took the baby and went back to Mexico. Mostly, because he forced her to.”
“What has this got to do with you?” her mother asked stiffly.
Abby swallowed hard. “He wants to see her before he dies, and he wants me to go to Mexico to find her.”
“You have to be joking.”
Abby could hear the anger building in her mother’s voice. “Now, Mom, don’t get upset until you hear everything I have to say.”
Gail folded her arms across her chest. “I’m not sure I want to hear it.”
“Mom,” Abby implored, hoping for some understanding.
“No, Abby.” Gail waved a hand through the air. “You’ve been on this crusade since your father died, and I know it has something to do with him. I just…just can’t take anymore.”
“Mom.” Abby jumped up and put an arm around her. “Come, sit down and I’ll explain.”
Gail sat, and Abby faced her. “Yes, it’s about Daddy.”
Gail threw up both her hands. “I knew it.”
“Listen to me,” Abby begged. “If I find his daughter, Mr. Brewster will tell me why he fired Dad.”
“Abby, Abby.” Gail groaned in frustration.
“Don’t you want to know?”
Gail looked directly at her. “What good will it do? It won’t bring him back.”
“We’ll know the truth, and no one can ever again say that Abe Duncan embezzled funds from Simon Brewster.”
“No one cares about tha
t, but you.”
“Don’t you care?”
“I want Abe to rest in peace.”
“But he’s not. Can’t you see that? There’s a cloud over his grave, and I won’t stop until I clear his name.”
Gail heaved a big sigh. “I refuse to let you do this.”
“What?” Abby drew back in disbelief.
“I will not allow you to go into Mexico to find this…this girl. It’s crazy and dangerous.”
“I’m thirty years old and I don’t need your permission,” Abby told her, though it took all her strength to say those words. She didn’t want to hurt her mother, but this was Abby’s choice.
Gail rose in a jerky movement. “This is how Simon Brewster has you talking to your mother.”
“Mom, please try to understand.”
“That’s what I’m asking of you, Abigail.”
Abby took a long breath. “I know you’re worried and—”
“That’s an understatement. Going to Mexico alone to find…to find—
Abby broke in. “Mr. Brewster wants Jonas Parker to go with me.” Abby had no idea why she said that. It just seemed to slip out.
“Jonas Parker!” Gail screeched so high, Abby feared the windowpanes were in danger of cracking.
“What’s wrong with Jonas?”
“If you have to ask that question, then you haven’t learned anything by living away from home.”
“What’s wrong with Jonas?” she persisted, wanting to get everything out in the open.
“He lived on the streets when he was a kid. His parents were drunks and they didn’t care where he was. Jonas has been in trouble with the law since he was eight years old. He wouldn’t go to school. He wouldn’t do anything he was supposed to. He was wild and rebellious, and I won’t have my daughter associating with people like him.”
Abby bit her tongue to keep words from tumbling out. She recognized that her mother was concerned, so she let the last remark pass. “Jonas has a past. So what? He seems to have matured. He has a good job and he’s responsible and dedicated. All the workers at Brewster Farms are crazy about him.”
“Especially the women,” Gail said testily.
Abby inhaled deeply, knowing exactly what her mother was getting at. “Yes, I’ve noticed that Jonas has an animal magnetism that attracts women. But I’m not looking for a man or that kind of relationship. After what Kyle did to me, I’d just as soon coast for a while. The only thing I’m interested in is finding Mr. Brewster’s daughter so I can hear what he has to say about Daddy.”
“Brewster has agreed to tell you the truth?” Gail asked in a disbelieving tone.
“Yes.”
“And you trust him?”
“No, but I’ll make sure he keeps his end of the bargain.”
“Abby.” Gail sighed. “Nobody gets around Brewster. He’s in control at all times. If you think otherwise, you’re fooling yourself.”
Abby stood and kissed her mom’s cheek. “I know what I’m doing. Trust me. Now, I’ve got to get dressed.” She started to walk away.
“Abby,” Gail said.
Abby stopped.
“Please don’t get involved in this crazy scheme.”
Abby let out a long regretful groan. “Mom, don’t do this to me.”
“What? Try to make you see sense? I’m your mother. That’s what I do. But it’s never worked in the past, has it. You’ve always been so headstrong, making quick decisions without considering the consequences.”
Abby knew exactly what her mother was talking about—her quick decision to marry Kyle. Still, she couldn’t give in to her mother’s wishes. Something inside Abby wouldn’t let the past go. She couldn’t explain it to Gail. She couldn’t even explain it to herself. All she knew was that she had made a deal with Simon Brewster and she had to keep it.
When Abby didn’t speak, Gail entreated, “Let it go, Abby. Just let it go.”
Abby bit her lip, then said, “I’m sorry, Mom. I can’t.”
AN HOUR LATER Abby was on her way to her cousin’s office. Earl Turner was a lawyer, and she needed his help. Of course, she’d have to talk him into it, which she hoped wouldn’t take long.
Earl was the son of her mother’s sister and five years older than Abby. They weren’t close, but they were family. Earl was the proverbial mama’s boy. He had never married and still lived with his mother. People teased him that he got his law degree through correspondence school because his mother wouldn’t allow him to leave home. In actual fact, he’d commuted to college and now he was the only lawyer in this small town. She couldn’t imagine why he’d never broken free and gone to a bigger city, but then, understanding Earl wasn’t one of her top priorities.
Before Abby could enter Earl’s office, her friend Brenda came out of her beauty shop next door. They embraced.
“It was so good seeing everyone the other night, wasn’t it?” Brenda asked, referring to the school reunion. Abby had reluctantly attended. Brenda’s brown hair had blond highlights and hung in a soft style around her face, which enhanced her brown eyes.
“Yes, it was,” Abby admitted, glad she hadn’t lost touch with her friends from high school.
“I can’t believe we’re all still around here. You’re the only one who ventured to the big city chasing that dream of yours.”
Abby brushed her hair back. “Well, the dream blew up in my face.”
“You’re not the first one of us to get a divorce. Candy, Deb and Miles have one behind them, and Barry’s on wife number three. Luckily, Stuart and I are still together.” Brenda and Stuart had been sweethearts since eighth grade and they’d married right out of high school. Brenda had gone to beauty school, and Stuart had taken a job at Brewster Farms.
“Sometimes, just sometimes,” Brenda continued, “after a day in the shop and running kids here and there, then going home to cleaning and cooking, I wonder what it would be like to have a life like yours.”
Abby smiled. “Not nearly as fulfilling as yours. Being a wife and mother has to be very rewarding.”
“I tell myself that, but when Stuart’s out with the guys or working late for Jonas, I get a little put out.” Brenda glanced at her watch. “I’ve got to go. My youngest has an earache, and I have to get her to the doctor. You have to come and have dinner with us one night. You won’t believe how the kids have grown.”
“I will—just call me.”
“Okay,” Brenda shouted as she hurried to her van.
Abby stood for a moment lost in thought. There was something about coming home and seeing old friends that made one look back. No matter what choices she’d made in life, those friends and times would always be a part of her. Like Brenda, she wondered what her life would have been like if she’d made different decisions. She, too, had wanted to be a wife and mother, but only after she had established her career and was able to enjoy a family. Now, she wondered if it was too late.
ABBY WALKED SLOWLY into Earl’s office, which was two rooms in an old building on the main strip in downtown Hope. Not that Hope had much of a downtown—a bank, grocery store, a couple of gas stations, a school, several churches and the clinic and hospital that Mr. Brewster had built with his own money so there would be some medical services in the area. Hope was just a stop in the road before the international bridge, but it was home.
There wasn’t a secretary, so Abby went through to Earl’s office. He was in his chair reading a newspaper, his feet propped on the edge of his desk. The paper covered his face, but his bald head glistened under the fluorescent lights.
“Good morning, Earl,” she said brightly, and pulled a chair forward.
Earl swung his feet to the floor and laid the paper aside. Pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, he replied, “Abby, I was thinking of dropping by to see you.”
“You were?” She was thrown for a second. Earl wasn’t much of a conversationalist.
“Yeah, I need a woman’s opinion.”
“On what?”
He f
idgeted with a pencil on his desk. “Well…I met this woman and I’m…I’m crazy about her.” All the while he talked he looked at the pencil, not at Abby.
“That’s great, Earl.”
Shyly, he raised his green eyes. “You think so?”
“Earl.” She sighed. “Have you looked at your driver’s license lately?”
He frowned. “What?”
“Look at the date of birth. It will tell you that you’re way overdue for a serious relationship.”
“Aw, shucks, Abby, it’s not that simple.”
“Why not?”
“Because Mother doesn’t know I’ve been seeing Carol. She lives in McAllen and works for an attorney. I’ve been helping him with legal matters in the valley, and Carol and I…well, you know.” His face actually glowed a vivid pink.
“I don’t see a problem,” Abby said.
“Mother doesn’t know I’ve been seeing her,” he repeated.
“Still don’t see a problem.”
“Carol has a five-year-old daughter.”
Big problem. Aunt Sybil was going to have a fit.
“If you care for this woman and the child, tell Aunt Sybil and don’t give her a chance to talk you out of it. Just do it, like the saying goes.”
“You see things so realistically, but I’m all that Mother has and I—”
“Earl, you talk as if Aunt Sybil is in her eighties. She’s fifty-nine and teaches school. She drives and plays bridge on Wednesdays and Saturdays. It’s not like she’s housebound and depends on you for everything.”
“But—”
“And she’s not alone. She has a brother, a sister and other relatives that live in Hope.”
“Yes, yes, she does.” Earl was gaining confidence. “She might even like Carol and her daughter.”
“That’s it, Earl, go for the brass ring or the gold ring or whatever the hell it’s called. Go for it.”
He smiled weakly. “You’re good for my ego.”
She scooted forward. “Good, because I came in here for a favor.”
“Need a lawyer, huh?”
“Something like that,” she admitted, and told him what she wanted him to do. His eyes grew bigger and bigger, and any minute she thought they would pop out onto his desk. He finally pulled out a handkerchief and wiped sweat from his forehead.
