“Hands off that ambrosia, Carly. That’s for dessert tonight.”
“I wasn’t even thinking about the ambrosia,” she fibbed. She held up a ripe pear. “I’m going over to help Savannah, and this is my insurance against overeating when I get there. Those peach tarts of hers are just too tempting.” She swung the refrigerator door closed and turned to find Anna eyeing her from head to toe.
“You could use a little temptation, if you ask me. Your last three visits, you’ve come back here thinner each time.”
She stiffened. Anna’s eagle eyes didn’t miss much, which was partly the reason she had avoided coming home during those first few months of college. Even if no one else noticed, Anna would have picked up on the weight she had gained.
No longer dating Luke, cut off from her family by her own choice, afraid to confide in a roommate she really didn’t know, she had turned to food after...
Food seemed to be the only comfort she had left. Food and sleep. But food didn’t fill the empty place inside her, and sleep didn’t take the pain away.
“I’m doing my best to put some meat on your bones again,” Anna told her.
“I’ve got plenty of that, thank you very much.”
“Then I should skip the biscuits and milk gravy I’m planning for supper tonight?”
“No, you should not. When I’m not home, I dream about your biscuits and gravy, Anna.”
“Oh, please,” the older woman scoffed, but her face softened with pleasure. Her greatest achievement in life was keeping the Baron kids fed, clothed and happy. “You always did have a good appetite, just as good as the boys.”
“I weighed almost as much as they did, too, thanks to you.”
“Nothing wrong with that.”
“Ha.” Carly took a deep breath and let it out again. “Anna, did Mom cook a lot?” At the housekeeper’s frown, Carly rushed on, “I mean, we know I can’t boil rice in a bag without having a fire extinguisher handy. But look at Savannah. She must’ve gotten her baking genes from somewhere.”
“Some of that she learned in school.”
“Well, maybe. But I took those classes, too.”
“Those peach pies of hers that are so popular, she got that recipe from your mama.”
“She did?”
“Sure.” Anna gestured toward the ancient oak table she insisted on keeping as her work counter, despite its nicked and knife-scarred surface. “Don’t you remember all the desserts your mama fed you when the other kids were off to school? Cakes and cookies and those peach pies? She liked to try things out first, before she served them to the family, and at that age, you wouldn’t eat much else but sweets.”
Slumping against the refrigerator, Carly stared at the table. Distant memories seemed to stir in her mind. Her mom with her sweater sleeves pushed up past her elbows to keep them free of flour... A frilly white apron with red strawberries for pockets... “Cakes and cookies...and milk in my plastic tumbler with the cowgirls on it.”
Anna nodded. “That very one.”
Carly smiled, both from the surprising comfort of the tiny sliver of newfound memory and to hide the stabbing pain that followed. “Yes, I guess I do remember some things.”
The good things. The happy things. But she couldn’t recall a single memory that would tell her why their mom had abandoned them. And at the rate Travis was progressing with his search, it looked as though none of them might ever know the truth.
Not meeting Anna’s eyes, Carly polished the pear on her sleeve. “Guess I’d better be heading over to the Peach Pit.”
“And I’ve got work to do upstairs.”
After Anna had left the kitchen, Carly stared into space for a long moment. Then, sighing, she crossed the room to the back door.
Before she could reach for the knob, the door flew open. She jumped back to avoid being hit.
Jet barreled through the opening, almost colliding with her. She welcomed the sight of him, knowing he would distract her from thoughts that could rapidly turn into a case of the blues. “Hey! Easy, bro! What’s your hurry?”
“Sorry about that. No hurry at all.” He grimaced. “I’m responding to a summons from the old man.”
“I just left him in the den.”
“Yeah.” He crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame, blocking her way.
It didn’t surprise her that he wanted to linger out here in the kitchen. For a long time now, he and Brock hadn’t been seeing eye to eye about Jet’s role in the family oil business.
She had been there, had fought Brock’s determination, too, and had the scars to prove it. If not for the all-out war he had waged to get her to take a job at Baron Energies right after high school, she might not have rebelled.
She might never have dated Luke.
Oh, no. Not going there again. She had control. “What happened to you yesterday? You left me hanging—and let Twister kick my butt.”
“I got tied up at one of the oil fields.”
“Oh, my. The boy actually works for a living. Who’d have believed it?”
“Very funny. Where are you headed off to?”
“Just out to the Peach Pit.”
“Is that so?” He cocked his head, eyebrows raised, radiating disbelief.
She looked at him in surprise. “Would I have any reason to lie about where I’m going?”
“I never would have thought so. Then again, I never would have imagined you’d be walking home from our ranch manager’s house. After dark, no less.”
She felt her cheeks warm and hoped Jet couldn’t notice any telltale sign in her face. “You saw me?”
“Wrong answer,” he said. “The Carly comeback should have been, ‘What’s it to you, little brother?’” He grinned. “Something’s up. Have you been a bad girl?”
Her mind flew to Monday night and Luke’s house, when she stood so close to him with her shirt half off and his big, warm hand stroking her bare skin. A pleasurable shiver ran through her.
“Ah-ha.” His brows rose again. “Maybe I’ll have to have a talk with the old man about you.”
“Jethro Horatio Baron.” The sound of his hated full name made him grimace. “You say one word about...about anything to do with me, and I’ll make sure Daddy knows just how eager you are for a management position.”
He gave an exaggerated shudder of his own. “Okay, I give in. I’ll keep my trap shut. But Jacob saw you, too.”
She groaned.
Great. Savannah had told her their eldest stepbrother and Luke had been good friends ever since the two of them met at a rodeo a few years ago. Jacob could never keep from telling his best buddy the news about seeing her.
But why did she need to worry? Luke didn’t have anything to tell Jacob, except the truth.
“Kim ditched me Monday night at the Longhorn.” She raised her jaw. “Luke gave me a ride home. There was no point in making him drive a few hundred extra yards, so of course, I got out at his house. Then I walked home. That’s all.”
Jet laughed and tapped her nose with his fingertip. “That, my dear sister, is a perfect example of what you always warned us not to do. And I quote, ‘When something goes wrong around here and Daddy calls for us one by one, don’t rat anyone out. And don’t ever volunteer information.’ Unquote. Ring a bell?”
Of course it did. Experience had taught her at a young age to come up with those cautions, since she was often the first one summoned into the den.
She sighed. No matter what Jet said about keeping quiet, of all her siblings he was most likely to run off at the mouth. Desperate for some damage control, she rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t care who saw me. And I wasn’t volunteering anything, just trying to outtalk you for a change.” She pushed past him through the doorway and went down the front porc
h steps.
“Ha,” he called from behind her. “If even I can tell you’re hiding something, then good luck with Savannah. She’ll see through you in a New York minute.”
Cringing, she jogged toward the truck. Other than Anna, her second-oldest sister was about the only person she could safely talk to around here.
Yet, even with Savannah, she had too many subjects she couldn’t mention.
* * *
“ANOTHER GOOD AFTERNOON’S WORK,” Savannah said. “This is getting to be a habit.”
“A good one,” Carly assured her. “I’m glad for the distraction.” Her sister couldn’t possibly know the depth of her gratitude.
Savannah and her assistant, Gina, had been in and out of the workroom all afternoon. Every interruption dragged Carly away from thoughts of Luke and of the disaster that would have come from giving in to his request for one simple, so-called harmless, little kiss.
“I think I’m going to have to put you on the payroll,” Savannah said.
She smiled. “You can’t afford me.”
“Probably not. At least, not yet. But...” Savannah winced. “I do have another favor to ask.”
“More volunteer work?”
“You guessed it. Travis and I have decided where we’re going for our postponed honeymoon. California wine country. We’ll visit a few wineries, do some wine tasting and tour a handful of local farms. I’m hoping to get ideas for the store. So it’s a business-with-pleasure trip.”
“Sounds great. When are you leaving?”
“Well...we’re hoping for this weekend, if we can get the reservations.” Savannah sighed. “I know it’s short notice for you—”
“It’s perfect.”
“Actually, it’s not the best time for me to leave. But Travis and I are excited about the trip.” Blushing, Savannah continued, “It would be good to have family overseeing things. Plus, the guys are working full-time out in the orchard right now, which means Gina would have to handle the store single-handed. You wouldn’t need to come in all—”
“Savannah. Don’t worry about it. After the day I had with Daddy, trust me, I’m ready for a break.”
“Thanks.” Savannah gave a sigh of relief. “I’ll look into the reservations as soon we close the store tonight.”
“And then just go and enjoy. With heavy emphasis on the pleasure part of the trip, I hope!”
Savannah turned even pinker, but grinned. She tapped the pastry box she had left on the worktable. “Speaking of pleasure...Luke stops in on Fridays to pick up a pie to take home.”
“Considering it’s only Wednesday, I hope you don’t plan to stand here with that box, waiting for him.” Carly eyed Savannah, who smiled innocently back at her. “But how nice for him. I’m sure he enjoys your pies, the way everyone else does.”
Savannah laughed. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about him ever since the barbecue last week.”
Now it was Carly’s turn to flush.
Quiet, observant Savannah had always noticed more than any of the others in the family, and certainly more than Jet. Her raised brows proved she had caught the reaction. Her small smile indicated she planned to make the most of it. “I noticed the two of you seemed to get along...quite well.”
“And that’s not quite the kind of phrase you normally use, sister dear.” Savannah was fishing for info, and Carly wasn’t taking the bait. “I try to be nice to all the wranglers.”
“Luke’s not a wrangler or even just a manager. He’s a lot more than that.”
“Yeah, I know,” she said grimly. “He’s Daddy’s right-hand man.”
“Well, yes. With all the boys either tied up at the oil fields or running off to rodeo every chance they get, I think Daddy puts a lot on Luke. He places a lot of trust in him, too.” Savannah smiled. “And you know Anna. The minute he started working here, she took him under her wing. Plus, I’m sure I don’t need to tell you how hard we all fell for Rosie.”
Eyes stinging, Carly bent quickly to slide a flat packing box out from beneath the workbench.
“But,” Savannah continued, “what I meant was, Luke’s practically family.”
“No, he’s not,” Carly shot back. That was all she would need, to have him automatically considered part of the Baron brood. For her to be faced with more opportunities to think about and talk about and run into him.
“I don’t see how you can make a fair assessment about it,” Savannah said in a level tone. She leaned back against the opposite counter. “You haven’t been around the ranch much since he started working here. You remember he’d lost his wife just a short time before that, don’t you? That’s why he quit the rodeo and took the manager position in the first place.”
Carly fumbled with the box, attempting to assemble it. “Yes, you told me.”
“He fits in well. And I think he appreciates being around people who care for his baby as much as they do for him.”
As Carly yanked a strip of tape from the roll, she imagined a heart-sized bandage being ripped from her chest. The wound beneath it still hadn’t healed. And she still didn’t want to talk about Luke.
“Sorry,” she muttered. “You’re right. I wasn’t being fair. But it’s just...” She turned to face Savannah. “Everything’s changed around here. You’re married. Lizzie’s being superwoman at the office, as usual, and now she’s married and...”
“And pregnant. I can’t believe it, either. What you mean is, we’re all growing up.”
“Yeah. And I think... I wonder...” Carly swallowed hard. “Mom’s not here to see any of this.” Or to know everything her children had gone through over the years.
“I wonder, too, Carly.”
“Travis isn’t any closer to finding her, is he?”
“Not yet,” Savannah admitted. “But maybe every false lead is taking us closer to a good one.”
“Or maybe the leads are drying up and we’ll never know.”
“We might have to face that, too. But Travis hasn’t given up yet.”
At her sister’s stricken expression, Carly winced. Jet wasn’t the only Baron with a big mouth. She moved across the room to give Savannah a hug. “Sorry, again. I wasn’t blaming him or meaning to push. You two have lived with this longer than I have. And I...” She paced the length of the room and back again. “I know you don’t plan to tell the family about your search, but I already know about it. And I want in. I want to do whatever I can to help you and Travis find Mom.”
“I’m not sure you or I can do anything more than what he’s done already. But you are in. As far as I’m concerned, you have been since I first told you about the search. But...Carly, are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” She shrugged, struggling to think what to say. “There’s just so much I want to tell her. To ask her. How could she not want to be a part of our lives? To know how we all turned out? How could she have just walked away from us?”
“I don’t know. I wish I had answers.” Savannah sighed. “Travis had me talk with Lizzie, even though I didn’t tell her we planned to start a search. She didn’t have any clues about where Mom could have gone. As for your questions...they’re the kind Lizzie might able to help with. She was older, she might remember more. You should talk with her, too.”
Her sister meant well with the obvious suggestion, but Lizzie was the last person Carly could go to. Not with the rest of the questions she had to ask. Questions she couldn’t voice, even to Savannah.
Once Lizzie had passed her first trimester without any further health problems, they had all sighed in relief. Still, Carly knew all too well that things could happen in the long weeks until Lizzie’s due date. She kept her worries to herself and focused on happiness for Lizzie and Chris and their baby.
Away from the family, on her own, sh
e had also cried a few frustrated tears over her struggle to deal with the pregnancy. She couldn’t be more overjoyed for Lizzie, but the knowledge of her sister’s baby filled her with regret. The sight of any pregnant woman flooded her with memories. With longing. With guilt.
Four years had gone by between the time their mom had given birth to Jet and then left them all. Why had she walked out? Did she have lingering issues from her final pregnancy? Had she suffered from postpartum depression...the way Carly had? Had her mom dealt with that depression for years afterward...the way she had?
How could she go down that road with Lizzie or Savannah? Neither of them had ever known she’d been pregnant. But with questions like those, they would wonder, suspect, might even ask her outright. They would want answers she didn’t want to give.
The front door of the store opened. “A customer,” Savannah murmured. “And Gina’s gone for the day.” She left the room.
Sighing, Carly reached for the carton and the tape dispenser.
As far as the family was concerned, her goal in coming back home again was to help everyone out. She didn’t care what that meant—including pushing papers and a wheelchair for Brock or boxing up preserves for Savannah. She would do anything to keep herself busy, her mind filled, her memories at bay. Anything to save herself from drowning in the sorrows of her past.
But the Roughneck hadn’t provided the escape she so desperately needed. It had only made her face her current reality. Dealing with the constant reminder of Lizzie’s baby...and being forced to face Luke...
Nothing could have hurt her more than a reunion with him. Or so she’d thought—until she had seen the photos of him with his child.
A child, like her own, that she had never held, never touched. Never met.
Chapter Eight
“No rest for the weary, buddy?”
Luke sat at his desk in the office shoehorned into one corner of the barn. At the familiar voice, he looked up. Jacob Baron stood leaning against the door frame. “Jacob. When did you get back?”
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