Right after dinner, Hailey’s phone rang. Her first thought as her heart leaped was Mac, but caller ID showed the rehab facility. This meant either her mother was making another illicit phone call, or something had happened.
“Hailey!” It was June. “How is everything?”
Glancing across into the den where Aaron and all three of his kids were engrossed in a television show, Hailey swallowed. “Just fine. How’s everything going with you?”
“I’m doing wonderful. I admit, the first few days in detox were hard. I thought I was going to die.” June took a deep breath. “I’ll be honest, I almost paid someone to sneak a small bottle of vodka in to me.”
“Almost?”
June laughed. “That’s right. Almost. I didn’t. I stuck it out.”
Her mother sounded like the mom Hailey remembered, from before Brenda’s death. Happy, full of life. For the first time since June had gone into rehab, Hailey felt cautiously optimistic.
“How are Aaron and the kids getting along?”
“So far, so good. He took them fishing Saturday. They seemed to have a good time.”
“Oh, I’m so relieved. I really think the boys especially need a father figure in their life.”
“Maybe so,” Hailey allowed. “It still seems kind of weird having him live here in the house.”
“Give it time, honey. He lived there before. I’m sure you remember.”
“I do.” Hailey didn’t mention to her mother how much she remembered. Aaron had always seemed kind of shady to her, but June loved him. And he had given Hailey her three siblings, so there was that.
“What else is new?” June asked.
Hailey told her about the tornado almost touching down too close to home. She also briefly discussed the fact that she still had a job with a regular paycheck. She didn’t mention Mac at all.
“Good for you!” June exclaimed. “As for me, guess what? Now I’ve actually earned the right to make phone calls and have visitors!”
Stunned, Hailey eyed the calendar that hung on the pantry door. It seemed awfully quick to her, but what did she know? She’d never known anyone who’d gone to rehab before. “That’s great! When would be a good time for me to bring the kids to see you?”
“I’m not sure. Soon.” The hesitation in June’s voice perplexed Hailey. But then again, maybe her mom needed to feel stronger before she’d be up to seeing her children.
“Do you want to talk to them?”
The small silence that followed that question was telling. “Not just yet.”
Frowning, Hailey shook her head, even though her mother couldn’t see. She wasn’t sure she understood what June was thinking, but she tried to be charitable. Maybe this was part of her recovery. Perhaps she didn’t want to talk to her own kids until she was certain all of this would take.
“Hailey?” June asked, a new, plaintive note in her voice. “Would you put Aaron on?”
“Of course.” Even though June had called Hailey’s cell phone. But then, Aaron didn’t have one of his own. Hailey wasn’t sure why that rankled, but it did. “Hold on,” she said, and then hollered for Aaron. Because no way did she intend to bring it to him and then possibly have to let the kids hear that their mother was on the phone and didn’t want to speak to them.
Still staring at the TV, Aaron didn’t respond. Hailey tried again, louder.
“What?” He swiveled his head to look at her, but didn’t get up.
“Can you please come here?”
Expression slightly annoyed, he heaved himself up off the couch and stomped into the kitchen. She waited until he was maybe three feet away from her before holding out her phone. “You have a call.”
Looking bored rather than surprised, he answered. When he heard June’s voice on the other end, he spun around and took the phone into his bedroom. A second later, Hailey heard the click of the door closing.
This all had the effect of making her feel queasy. Suddenly, she desperately wanted to talk to Mac. But she couldn’t, because Aaron had her phone.
She glanced again at the kids, all engrossed in their television program. It was still early, not yet seven. If she hopped in the car now, she could be at Mac’s in fifteen minutes. And she badly needed to get out of the house—almost as badly as she needed to see him. Yes, they still needed to have a talk, and maybe now would be as good a time as any.
Decision made, she walked into the den and announced she was going to run an errand. Since Aaron was still there, she knew they’d be fine, but just in case, she put Tara in charge.
“Again?” Tom groaned, rolling his eyes. “Why is it always her? We’re the same age. You should put me in charge once in a while.”
Grinning, Hailey blew him a kiss. “Eli, you be good, okay?”
Barely looking up from the TV, he nodded. Then, after shooting her a quick, mischievous glance, he grinned. “Tell Mac hi for me.”
“Mac?” Hailey tried to pretend, but she’d always been horrible at hiding the truth. Her face colored, which made all three of the kids crack up laughing. Finally, she gave up. “When Aaron comes out, one of you please get my phone back from him. If anyone needs me, Mac’s number is programmed in there.”
Head held high, she sailed out the door to the sound of their delighted laughter, her heart lighter than it had been in a long time.
Chapter 14
After dinner, Mac sat in the chair next to Gus’s hospital bed and turned on one of his father’s favorite shows. Usually, Gus paid avid attention to the engrossing story line, but tonight he could scarcely keep his eyes open. After ten minutes, he’d fallen soundly asleep.
Gus was failing fast. Mac could see it—his father seemed to shrink, as if the illness made him smaller, more and more with each passing day. Though Mac knew each man’s death was a personal thing, he didn’t understand why Gus didn’t even want to try to fight it. But Gus had said he’d done some reading, conferred with a couple of doctors and then made his decision. He’d declined chemotherapy, declaring he valued quality of life over quantity. There was no cure for his particular type of cancer, and all chemo would do was buy him a few more months.
Selfishly, Mac wanted more time. The clock kept ticking, and neither Mac nor the police had gotten any closer to learning the identity of the murderer.
The FBI had set up offices in town. They were all over this thing since the last murder, bringing in people for questioning. Detective Logan had brought out one of the agents to talk with Mac and Gus, though everyone knew the focus was more on Mac than his clearly seriously ill father.
Mac hoped he had no reason to be worried, and by the time Logan and the FBI agent had left, they knew it, too. He and Gus had talked about it after, and they both agreed that the FBI didn’t appear to have a single lead. The odds of falsely accusing and convicting Mac of a crime after doing that exact thing to his father seemed unlikely.
Everyone in town seemed to be holding their breath, praying no other girls were killed. Parents kept a closer eye on their children, especially those with thirteen or fourteen-year-old daughters.
Eyeing his sleeping father, Mac went to the fridge and grabbed a six-pack of beers. Then he went outside to the half-restored barn, sat down in the hay and drank one. So much had changed in his life since he’d last lived in Legacy. It seemed there’d been one loss after another.
He’d lost Gus years ago—ten, to be exact—though he and his mother had continued to visit. And then his mother had been killed in a car crash. It had torn Gus up that he wasn’t able to attend his own wife’s funeral. It had destroyed him to see his son handling all the arrangements and grieving alone.
Therefore, this time Mac took great pains to conceal his anguish over Gus’s cancer from his father. When he’d heard the news, he’d raged in private. And then he’d gotten busy, fighting
to have Gus released, wincing inside each time he used the term come home to die. When he’d finally won after months of fighting, he hadn’t been able to celebrate the fact that he’d regained his father. Gus’s early release from prison only meant he could be with his son again, for far too short a time. Mac had vowed to do everything within his power to ease his father’s gradual transition from life to death, well aware when it was over, he’d lose him again, far sooner than either of them wanted.
Here, in the old barn, Mac allowed himself to reminisce. The beer went down cold, the yeasty taste on his tongue just right. He and his father had spent many hours in the same barn when the place had been an active farm. Gus had taught Mac how to milk cows and goats, to assist in the birth of a calf and, most important for Mac’s future livelihood, how to build things with his hands.
His childhood had been idyllic, though at the time he hadn’t appreciated it as much as he did now. His parents’ marriage had been a good one, and there’d been lots of laughter and love between them with plenty to spare for their only child.
Letting his mind wander, Mac sipped his beer as he remembered. He and Hailey had played hide-and-seek in and around this barn. They’d shared their first kiss in the hayloft, and right then and there, Mac had known she was the girl he’d someday marry. That certainty had wavered somewhat, with time and distance between them, but from the moment Mac had learned he’d be bringing his father home, he’d known he had to see Hailey again. Now that he had, he felt exactly the same way he had when he’d been younger.
He finished the first beer and popped the top on the second can. He’d often wondered what his life would be like now if Brenda Green had lived. Would he and Hailey be married, with a couple of kids of their own?
Outside, darkness had begun to fall. He had a small battery-powered camping lantern, which he switched on. The small pool of light kept at bay the dark shadows that had begun to take over the already dim interior of the barn. Since he’d left the double doors open, the breeze kept him cool, and he could still see the night sky and make out the presence of thousands of stars.
From around near the house, he thought he heard the sound of car tires on gravel. Listening intently, he realized someone had pulled up and parked in front of the garage. He heard a car door close, debated getting up to see who might be visiting so late and decided against it. If Detective Logan had come calling unannounced, well he could just come back later.
“Are you okay?” a soft voice asked from outside his circle of light. Hailey. His heart skipped a beat in his chest, and just like that, his dark mood lifted.
“I’m fine,” he lied, taking another deep slug of his beer. To his relief, his voice sounded steady. “Just hunky-dory. What are you doing here? Is everything okay?”
“Yes. I just...” She stopped talking and came closer. “I just wanted to be with you. That’s all.”
Something tight in his chest loosened. She wanted to be with him. And he wanted to be with her. He just needed a moment to recover, to shove his hurt and pain back inside of himself and lock it away.
Throat aching, eyes stinging, he silently willed his voice not to crack, though it did. “Want a beer?”
“Sure.” She moved closer, tilting her head as she peered at him. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
Handing her a can, he listened as she popped the top and waited until she’d taken a sip and swallowed.
“Yep. I’m absolutely fine,” he repeated. And he would be, he swore. He just needed to get his emotions back under control. This was why he’d come out here, to let some of what he kept locked inside out.
“Really?” She moved around his side, circling and then stopping just a few feet behind him. “Because you forget. I’ve known you a long time, Mac Morrison. And you don’t sound fine to me.”
He couldn’t speak to save his life, not without giving away the depths of his sorrow. So he sat, hunched over his beer, nearly broken, afraid to turn and face the one person who might be able to heal him. He didn’t fully understand why—maybe because it would destroy him if she turned away.
“You haven’t lost him yet,” she said, proving the bond he’d once thought unbreakable miraculously still remained intact.
“I know,” he muttered, and that was all he got out before she set her beer can down. She knelt on the hay bale right next to him and wrapped him tight in her arms. She held on tight, refusing to let him go, even when he made a halfhearted attempt to shake her off.
Emotion swelled in him, all the pain and confusion and sorrow he’d tried to bury deep inside. Men weren’t supposed to cry, at least in the world he’d been raised in. He hadn’t intended to, at least not with anyone there to bear witness. But Hailey wasn’t just anyone. There wasn’t a single other person he trusted more.
So he let the tears flow. Silently, at first. And then, when he could no longer contain it, the dam burst, and he turned his head into her shoulder and let it all out.
And still she held on. Her silent presence gave him strength. She didn’t comment, didn’t try to question him. She just supported him, her tight embrace letting him know she was there for him.
Spent—and quietly ashamed, because old habits and beliefs died hard—he managed to get himself back under control. Swiping at his wet face with the back of his hands, he gradually registered the feminine scent of her, something fruity and floral and pure Hailey.
“Sorry about that,” he muttered, his voice hoarse.
“Don’t be.” Her simple response made him raise his head to look at her. What he saw in the muted light of his old lantern filled him with wonder.
“Hailey?” Reaching out, he stroked her cheek with his fingers. “Are you crying?”
She attempted a smile, and then lifted one shoulder in a halfhearted shrug. “Maybe,” she allowed. “Just a little.”
Perplexed, he leaned in and kissed her. One soft kiss, the salt of her tears mixing with the salt of his own. “Why?”
“Because I can’t bear it when you’re in so much pain.” The fierceness of her tone let him know she would go to battle for him if she could. “But don’t you be sorry, ever. You’re a good man, Mac Morrison.”
And then she let him go, leaning to pick up her beer and taking a sip.
They sat side by side and talked, hips bumping. She told him about her mother calling, and he told her about Detective Logan’s frequent phone calls, the way he and Gus would talk for half an hour. And the fact that even with the FBI helping, they didn’t have one solid lead on who the murderer might be.
“Maybe whoever it is has moved on,” Hailey said. “Like they did after they killed Brenda.”
“Moved on and returned. Detective Logan said they’re investigating the transient population. There are a group of Irish Travellers who come through town every couple of years. He feels it might be one of their people due to the Irish beer left at the murder scene.”
“Irish Travellers?”
“Modern-day Romani. They’ve settled in the Dallas-Fort Worth area as well as Houston. But there are still groups of them who moved from town to town. There’s been a pretty good-sized group that recently settled in Tyler.” He shrugged. “I don’t know much more than that.”
Taking his hand, she twined her fingers in his. “I just hope they figure it out before anyone else gets hurt. And before Gus...”
She didn’t finish the sentence. She didn’t have to. Before Gus died. More than anything, Mac knew the greatest gift he could give his father was to clear his name before he passed.
* * *
Driving home from Mac’s, Hailey knew there was no way she could have had the talk about their lack of a future with him. Not that night. Clearly, he’d gone into the barn to grieve alone, and then she’d shown up. He could have reacted several different ways, including asking her to leave. Instead, he’d bared himself
to her, letting her see inside his soul. If anything, this made her realize she loved him even more.
Too bad she couldn’t figure out a way to make a relationship between them work.
Monday dawned with a dreary sky and the air oppressive with humidity. She turned on the television to catch the morning news while the kids got ready for school.
A severe thunderstorm warning, flash flood warning and a tornado watch had been issued for Wood County. Nothing out of the ordinary. This was normal Texas spring weather.
Still, after the last incident with a tornado touching down awfully close to home, she couldn’t help but be worried. Even before the other day, and despite having lived in Texas her entire life, she always felt a prickle of unease even at the thought of a tornado. Last time, she hadn’t been paying attention to the weather. She wouldn’t make that mistake again. For now, as long as the alert didn’t change from watch to warning, the chances of dealing with a tornado again were slim to none.
She hoped.
Since she hated driving in rain and flash floods could be deadly, she rushed the kids a bit. As a result she got them off to school early, which left her with extra time on her hands before she had to report to work at Mac’s.
Instead of going home to have her coffee, she impulsively stopped at the local coffee shop and purchased three coffees. She added cream and sweetener to hers, knowing Mac took his black and suspecting Gus did the same. She didn’t want to examine her whim too closely. All she knew was she wanted to have coffee with Mac rather than by herself. Plain and simple.
She arrived at the Morrison farm half an hour early. Luckily the coffee shop had given her a drink carrier, so she was able to carry all three at once.
“Hey.” Mac raised a brow, clearly surprised to see her so early. He took the drink holder from her, setting it on the counter. “What’s this?”
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