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Lonestar Angel

Page 11

by Colleen Coble


  “Ah yes, Ms. Davidson. Your foster brother said you weren’t interested. If you’ll give me your social security number, I’ll log in your refusal.”

  “Actually, I’d like to contact my birth mother.”

  There was a pause on the other end. The gruff voice softened. “I’m sure she’ll be happy. She’s been hounding my office for several days. Should I give her your number?”

  “Could you give me her number? I’d like to be the one in control of when we talk. I want to make sure I’m alone.”

  “Of course.” The woman rattled off the phone number. “Would you repeat it, please?”

  Eden read the number back to her. “Where is the 214 area code?”

  “That’s right here in Dallas. I have her address as well if you’d like that.”

  “I would.” It would take Eden some time to decide how she wanted her first contact with her mother to go. When she finished writing down the address, she read it back to the clerk as well. “Thank you for your time.” She hung up and stared at the slip of paper. Why not call right now?

  But she couldn’t force herself to punch in the number. In her head, she heard her mother’s voice. “You’re going to look ugly when your father comes by.”

  Would her mother have changed? She’d always had beautiful skin. Her hair was red-blond. Men turned to look when she walked by. She’d be much older now.

  Eden was afraid. That’s what kept her hands in her lap. What if her mother wanted to see her but the mean-spirited comments continued? What possible reason could she have to be looking after all this time?

  The riding lesson was over, and Clay turned the girls over to the Rodriguez couple, who would be with them for about an hour as all the children did crafts together. Eden had never shown up, so he went in search of her. When he didn’t find her in the bunkhouse, he started for the back door of the ranch house. As he neared, he saw her bright-blue blouse and walked toward her.

  She sat on the porch step with her phone in one hand and a piece of paper in the other. Her hair was curled and perfect. She wore immaculate navy slacks and pumps. He’d been sure that she would drop that mask of perfection within a day of hitting the ranch. To find she still clung to her city-girl image confused him. Was there a real person under that smooth exterior? He’d thought so last night.

  His boots crunched on a rock, and she looked up. Her eyes were swollen, as though she’d been crying. “You okay?” he asked. “What did your mother say?”

  “I haven’t been able to bring myself to call her.” Her eyes darkened, and her voice trembled. “So many bad memories.”

  “Yesterday you remembered good ones too,” he reminded her.

  “In the night it seemed possible that she loved me. Missed me. In the daylight, it seems more likely she wants to yell at me more. Maybe she thinks I ruined her life.”

  “How could you ruin her life? You were a kid.” He dropped beside her on the stoop.

  She hunched her shoulders and clasped her knees. “I suppose it doesn’t make sense. But nothing about this makes sense. Why would she even want to contact me after all these years?”

  “Want me to call her?” The words were out before he stopped to think.

  Her head came up to reveal eyes full of hope. “You’d do that? I don’t know what to say.”

  “Give me the phone.”

  She put the phone into his outstretched hand. “Want me to read you the number?” He nodded, and she read the number slowly.

  He listened to the ring on the other end and tried to think how to start the conversation. How old would she be? At least fifty, since Eden was thirty. Unless she’d had Eden as a teenager. Definitely a possibility based on what he’d heard about her.

  After five rings, the call was picked up. “Hello.” The voice on the other end was male. Pleasant enough, though. Sounded like a man in his fifties or sixties.

  “My name is Clay Larson. Eden Davidson is my wife.” It felt strange to say the word wife when they’d been apart so long. He glanced at the paper Eden held. “Does Nancy Santiago live there?” Santiago? He glanced at Eden and wondered if she’d made the connection in her own mind. It was a common name, but the kidnapper’s name had been Santiago. Coincidence?

  “Oh yes, yes, she does. She has been hoping for this call.” The voice grew muffled. “Nancy, Eden’s husband is on the phone.”

  Chills raced up his spine at the excitement in the man’s voice. The woman made a smothered exclamation he couldn’t make out, but it was clear she’d been hopeful to hear from her daughter. Maybe this wouldn’t be a bad thing for Eden. He prayed her mother had changed, that this would bring healing and a new perspective to her.

  “Hello?” The woman’s voice was eager, almost girlish.

  If he didn’t know better, he’d think she was as young as Eden. “Hello, Mrs. Santiago. I’m Clay Larson, Eden’s husband. She was given this number and told you were looking for her.”

  “Oh, I have been. For several years now. I’m so glad you called. Can I talk to her?”

  He glanced at Eden and mouthed, “She wants to talk to you.” When Eden shook her head violently, he spoke back into the phone. “I’m afraid that won’t be possible right now. Is there a reason you’re looking for her?”

  “I’d think it was obvious.” The animation was gone from the woman’s voice. “She’s my daughter. I . . . I didn’t do right by her. I’d like to see if she needs anything. Tell her I’m sorry.”

  Praise God. “That’s really good of you, ma’am.”

  “Can I see her? Maybe it would be better to say everything in person. I wasn’t a good mother, Mr. Larson.” Her voice broke.

  “Call me Clay. And we all make mistakes.” He saw Eden tense and look at him with a question in her eyes.

  “I hope she can forgive me,” the woman said, her voice trailing off.

  “I think she will,” he said. Eden was going to kill him, but he gripped the phone and made a decision. “Where could we meet?” Eden shook her head but he ignored her. “We’re in Texas too. How about Alpine?”

  “That’s about a day’s drive.” Nancy’s voice was eager. “We could meet Saturday for dinner.”

  “That will be fine. I’ll research where we might eat and call you back.”

  “I’ll be waiting. Call my cell phone, because we might be on the road. I’ll pack immediately.”

  She gave him her number, and he jotted it down, then hung up. Eden’s fists were clenched when he looked at her. “We’re meeting her Saturday in Alpine.”

  “I’m not ready, Clay.” Her eyes flashed sparks. “Call her back.”

  “Some things you just need to face head-on. And this is one of those. I’ll go with you.”

  “You won’t leave me alone with her?”

  He put his arm around her and she rested her head on his shoulder. “Not for a minute.” He pressed his lips against her hair.

  “Did she sound . . . eager? What did you think of her?”

  “She sounded younger than I expected. How old is she?”

  “Forty-nine, I think. She had me at nineteen.”

  “She seemed contrite over how she’d treated you. I think it will go well, honey. We’ll face it together.”

  It might be the only thing she’d let him do for her.

  After dinner, Eden looked at five eager faces, lips stained red from the Popsicles they were finishing. They had plenty of time before bed. “Let’s build a tent house,” she said.

  “You mean we’re going camping?” Katie asked, glancing at the darkening sky through the window.

  “Sort of. We’ll get blankets and build rooms out of them. Each tent can be for different things. You can make up what they’re for.”

  “I want the red blanket!” Lacie said. She ran for the bedroom and returned dragging the red fuzzy blanket from her bed. “My room is for the stuffed animals to live in.”

  “I want to play,” Madeline shouted.

  “Hang on, let me get out the blan
kets,” Eden said. She found a stack of linens in the hall closet and carried them to the living room.

  In minutes every chair and sofa was draped with blankets, and the sound of giggles made her smile across the room at Clay.

  “My room is for princesses,” Madeline announced. “I must find a dress for the ball. Do you have one I can borrow?” she asked Eden. “Your pink nightgown would be lovely.”

  Eden smiled at her serious expression. “It’s in my top drawer,” she said. Madeline raced off to get her costume. “What’s your room going to be for?” Eden asked Katie.

  “For Olympic gymnasts. Would you like to see my floor show?” Katie pirouetted across the room, then did a cartwheel and came to a wobbly stop with her arms up.

  “Good job!” Clay said. He lifted her to his shoulders and paraded through the room to her tent. “The winner gets to go in first.” He set her in front of the opening to her tent room.

  Grinning from ear to ear, Katie bowed grandly. “Thank you. I will do another show soon.” She dropped to her hands and knees and disappeared inside.

  “My room is a hospital,” Paige said. “It’s for patients with allergies. No dust mites are allowed inside. I’m the nurse. I think I should take your temperature,” she told Clay. “I need a thermometer.”

  “Use this,” he said, offering her a Popsicle stick.

  He opened his mouth and she stuck it in. A moment later she pulled it out. “Oh my, you have a temperature. We must put you to bed. Okay?”

  “Whatever you say, my nurse.” He winked at Eden, then crawled into Paige’s tent.

  Eden stared after them. Clay’s and Paige’s eyes looked so much alike, and Paige had that caregiving spirit she was seeing more and more in her husband.

  Madeline returned with Eden’s pink nightgown trailing around her bare feet. She had stuck bobby pins in her hair in an attempt to get her fine locks into an upsweep. Dark blue eye shadow made her eyes look bruised, but her dimples were flashing.

  It was all Eden could do to keep from laughing. “You look lovely, Your Highness,” she said. Madeline loved girlie things, just like Eden did.

  Oh, which girl was theirs? It was so hard to know. She turned to India. “And what will we do in your room?”

  “My room is a Sunday school,” India said. “I’m going to teach my dolls about Jesus. Then we can all pray for God to send me a new mommy and daddy.”

  Eden’s eyes filled. The faith of little children put her to shame. She hadn’t even asked God what part she ought to play in this situation. All she’d done was follow Clay’s lead and come here to find her daughter. What did God expect now that she realized she was still married to Clay?

  16

  EXHAUSTED FROM THE BUSY DAY, EDEN SAT ON THE PORCH OF THE BUNKHOUSE AND WATCHED the storm approach. The night air held a hint of moisture. Lightning flickered off to the west, illuminating the jagged mountain peaks and leaving the scent of ozone in the wind. Storms exhilarated her. She felt alive with the thunder shaking the house and the flashes of lightning burning into her retinas. She was growing fond of this place of extremes.

  The screen door slammed and Clay stepped out to join her on the porch. “Della and Zeke are helping with the games, then I told the girls to pick up their blankets and toys.” He dropped into the rocker beside hers. “Storm’s coming.”

  Another flash of lightning arced from the clouds to a tree atop a nearby peak. “I’d say it’s here.”

  He straightened and peered up at the display that was nearly overhead. “We should go in. I don’t want you struck.”

  “I love to watch it. We’re safe here.”

  “I don’t think so,” he said, flinching when a bolt sizzled nearby. “Really, let’s go in. It’s bathtime anyway.”

  “In a few minutes.” She lifted her face to the cooling breeze. “Thanks for calling my mother today.” The generosity of his action still touched her. He’d seen her problem and had moved to help. She stared into the darkness. “I dread Saturday, though.”

  “I’ll be with you. She sounded very nice, Eden. I’m not just saying that.”

  “Was that her husband who answered the phone?” It was too much to hope that the man was her father. She didn’t even remember his name anymore, if she’d ever known it.

  “I assume so. Seemed like a stand-up guy. He was as excited as she was.”

  Excited. Could they really want to see her that badly?

  “What do you remember about your father?”

  She glanced at him. Was he a mind reader too? “Not much. He came to see me about three or four times a year. They always fought, and he would slam out of the house without even telling me good-bye. I’m not sure why he ever bothered to come. He hardly noticed me.”

  Another light caught her eye. A car came up the drive, then stopped in front of the ranch house. A man and woman got out and approached the front door. The door to the house opened, and light framed Allie’s figure. She gestured toward the bunkhouse. The man and woman turned to look, then started toward them.

  “Looks like they’re coming back here.” Clay stood and stretched. “They’d better hurry. The rain is about to let loose any second.”

  He’d barely gotten the words out before the clouds opened up. The deluge was worthy of Noah’s flood. Eden had never seen rain fall so hard and fast. The couple raced for the steps and arrived gasping and soaking wet.

  “Let me get some towels,” Eden said.

  A basket of towels was just inside the door where she’d left them after dinner. She reached inside the screen door and snagged two. While the couple dried off, she took their measure. The woman had short dark hair in a stylishly layered cut. Large dark eyes. Dressed in Ann Taylor and a pair of red leather shoes. The man wore a navy suit and a crisp white shirt. His blond hair was plastered to his head. Both of them appeared to be in their late twenties.

  The man handed the towel back to her. “Much obliged.” He straightened his jacket and turned a smile on them. “I’m Tyler Rivers. This is my wife, Christine. We’re here to see Paige.”

  “We’re her parents.”

  “Her parents.” It was clear from Christine’s tone that she was laying claim to the little girl. And that she loved her.

  “The camp prefers to let the girls adjust before visits with their foster parents,” Clay put in. “We were told they needed to be here two weeks before there was a visit.”

  Tyler nodded. “Of course. But it’s her birthday tomorrow, and we brought her a gift. Mr. Bailey said it would be all right to see her for a few minutes and give her the present. I have to fly out of town on business tomorrow, and we really wanted her to have her gift.”

  “If Rick said it was okay, then we’re fine with it. Come inside.” Clay held open the door for them.

  The wave of protectiveness rising in Eden’s chest alarmed her. These two were no threat. Was it because she didn’t want any of the girls to be attached to someone other than herself? How totally selfish. If she had her way, none of the children would have to go through the abandonment issues she’d experienced. Of course she wanted Paige to be loved. She wanted them all to be cherished.

  In the living room, the young girls looked up from their game of Chutes and Ladders. Zeke and Della had brought over their girls too, and there were several different games in progress. Della got up when the couple entered the room and lifted a brow in Eden’s direction.

  “Mommy!” Paige screamed. She leaped up and ran to throw her arms around Christine.

  “Paige’s foster parents,” Eden said to Della and Zeke.

  The woman knelt and picked her up. “I’ve missed you, honey. Are you having a good time?”

  Paige nodded. “I peed the bed last night,” she said with great solemnity.

  “Oh dear.”

  “She peed on me!” India said, her voice indignant. “But she couldn’t help it, I guess.”

  Christine’s lips twitched. “I can see that would be upsetting,” she said.

 
“How about a kiss for your daddy?” Tyler asked. When Paige reached for him, he took her into his arms and she kissed him with real affection.

  Eden glanced at Clay and saw the same raw jealousy in his eyes that she felt. What if Paige was Brianna? Paige had been left by two men in a Walmart. It would rip this family apart to find out she didn’t belong to them. The living room still held the aroma of popped corn. Clay picked up the litter of Popsicle sticks and corn kernels.

  “We can’t let Paige’s birthday go unnoticed tomorrow.”

  “What do you have in mind?”

  Her dimples flashed. “Cupcakes. I’ll bake them and you can ice them.”

  “I’m game if you are.” Anything to keep that delight in her face.

  He followed her to the kitchen, where she rummaged through the cupboards and found cake mix, a cupcake pan, and liners. Within minutes the cupcakes were in the oven and he put some decaf on to brew.

  “I want to show you something,” she said, exiting the room.

  When she returned a few moments later, she held a tattered photo album. She sat at the table and he pulled out a chair and sat beside her. Even before she opened it, he knew it was pictures of Brianna. He’d probably seen them and, most likely, had copies himself. But when she flipped it open, he was faced with one he didn’t remember. In the photo Brianna was peering over the top of his shoulder. She wore a pink ribbon in her thick blond hair.

  “That was her first smile,” Eden said. “Remember?”

  He ran his fingers over the slick surface of the protective sheet. “I didn’t see it. She wasn’t facing me.”

  She pointed to Brianna’s left cheek. “This is what I wanted to show you. See that dimple? Madeline has dimples.”

  “Do babies always keep their dimples?”

  Her brow furrowed. “I don’t know.”

  The next picture was one with Brianna and Eden. She wore the pendant he’d been carrying around in his pocket, and he put his fingers around it. Maybe now was the time to ask her to wear it again. To consider building their family unit new and fresh.

 

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