The Texan's Inherited Family

by Noelle Marchand

  “Yes, but how can you be so calm about this?”

  “I’m not calm. Just a little numb, I guess.” With the dress’s back undone, Helen stepped behind the changing screen. “Besides, I refuse to cry over or because of some man who is not my husband.” She froze as she buttoned the collar of her nightgown. “I can and will thank God in my prayers tonight that he isn’t my husband. He might have been if he hadn’t shown his true colors once he learned about my problem.”

  “Your problem.” A frown filled her mother’s voice. “I’ve been thinking about that lately. Maybe we should get a second opinion.”

  Helen rounded the changing screen to stare at her mother. “A second opinion from whom? I was attended by Dr. Whitley after my accident. He’s the most respected doctor in Austin. Once he issues a diagnosis, all the others defer to it. That’s why he is our family doctor in the first place, because he’s the best there is.”

  “Yes, I know.” Lucille sighed. “I just wish there was some way for me to fix this for you.”

  Helen sat at the edge of the canopy bed to take her hair down from its fancy chignon. “Some things can’t be fixed, Mother. Things like me.”

  “You are not a thing,” Lucille said fiercely as she sat beside Helen. “You are a person. You are my daughter, your father’s little girl, Quinn’s wife, an aunt to your nieces and nephews. That is what defines you, along with your faith, your spirit, your personality—not your problem. Not unless you let it. So stop letting it.”

  She stared at her mother in disbelief. “Do you think that I want to feel this way about myself? Do you think I would choose this? Choose to be the way I am? To pretend that I’m normal, all the time knowing there is something wrong with me? Knowing that the person I...” She choked on a sob. “The person I love more than anything could reject me for it once he finds out?”

  “That isn’t going to happen. Quinn isn’t Tom. He’s a different kind of man. A better man. He isn’t going to reject you.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Neither will you unless you tell him.”

  Helen pulled in a deep, calming breath. “I just...I wanted to wait until he loves me. I think he’s close. It will be easier then.”

  Lucille shook her head even as her tone gentled. “Darling, he may grow to love you more, but you aren’t going to love him any less, so it won’t be any easier. You need to tell him soon. Do it for your own peace of mind, if nothing else.”

  “I know.” She slid her fingers into her loose hair and sighed. “I will, but not tonight. I need to think, gather my courage...”

  “Pray.”

  She nodded. “Pray.”

  “Meanwhile, I’ll make your excuses to the guests and hint that it’s time for everyone to go home. Get some rest, sweetheart.” Lucille hesitated near the door. “One last thing to remember, Helen. Quinn already has four children. Four. That’s enough of a handful for any man. Unless he’s expressly said anything different, he might not want any more. Good night.”

  That’s what Helen had counted on in the beginning. Somewhere along the way she’d lost sight of that because she’d wanted him to love her for herself—not just accept her because having his own children made her tolerable. Yet, how could he truly love her if she’d never revealed how broken she really was? If he was falling in love with her as she hoped, then he was falling in love with the illusion she’d created.

  She’d have to take the risk of losing whatever affection he may have developed for her by telling him the truth. She could see that now. Shutting her secret into a dark corner of her heart had only allowed it to grow and spread until its shame poisoned her thoughts and actions. Of course, bringing it into the light might only make it worse. How would she bear it every day for the rest of their lives if she saw pity in his eyes or disgust or disillusionment? She’d have the children’s love. That would certainly help, but she wanted more. She wanted Quinn. She hadn’t realized how much until tonight.

  She burrowed under her blankets as though the extra padding could somehow insulate her from everything that had happened that evening and everything that would come. “I’ll tell him, Lord, as soon as we return home. Will You prepare the way? Give me the right moment. Please work things out between us. I’m asking because You’re the only one who can straighten out the mess I’ve made of my marriage, the mess I’ve made of me. Amen.”

  * * *

  After saying goodbye to Helen’s parents at the train station the next morning, Quinn made sure his family had settled comfortably into their seats before glancing out his window for what would be his last glimpse of Austin until they arranged another visit. The city had been Quinn’s proving ground just as he’d expected. It had proven him to be a fool. In all of his efforts to measure up to the standard of what he thought Helen’s husband was expected to be, he’d failed to be the husband she’d needed. He’d seen her staring across the ballroom at him, looking a little lonely despite the crowd of people. He’d seen the entreaty in her eyes for his attention. And he’d put off answering her silent call because he wanted to look important. He’d wanted to be important.

  Somehow he’d gotten confused enough to think that meant swapping stories with the governor about the different places they’d each been in Texas. He wasn’t confused anymore, but it was too late. Helen had left the ballroom by herself last night. If he’d been with her, she wouldn’t have had to face Coyle alone, and whatever had passed between them wouldn’t have happened. As it was, other than gaining favor with his in-laws, the only meaningful thing Quinn had received for reaching above his station was increased distance between him and his wife.

  He glanced across the train aisle to where she sat in a smart sapphire-blue dress that served to make her large brown eyes look even richer. She was smiling as if everything was normal, for the children’s sake, but there was a pensiveness lurking beneath the surface that she couldn’t hide from him. She must have felt him watching her, for her gaze touched his then abruptly dropped away. He wished he was sitting beside her so that he could take her hand and try to bridge the gap between them. It would take some serious maneuvering of the children to manage it. He wasn’t at all sure she’d appreciate his efforts, so he stayed put.

  As the train began its sluggish crawl out of the Austin station, Reece gasped and lunged toward the window. “Hey, look! It’s Charlie.”

  “What?” Alarm had Quinn out of his seat before the question made it past his lips. “Where?”

  Quinn scanned the crowd as Clara squeezed in front of him to press against the window. “He’s walking alongside the train, Uncle Quinn.”

  “I see him.” The man was nothing if not average in height, build and looks. He wore a brown suit and matching bowler hat. The train picked up speed. Charlie didn’t. Stopping at the edge of the platform, the man met Quinn’s gaze and tipped his hat. Quinn watched him fade into the distance then sank down to his seat. “He just stood there and tipped his hat like he’d come to see us off.”

  His concern was reflected on Helen’s face. “Did you recognize him?”

  “I’ve never seen him before, which means he must have kept his distance on purpose.”

  “You think he’s been following us around the whole time we were in Austin?”

  “He must have been.”

  “But why?”

  Quinn just shook his head, at a loss for any reasonable explanation. Trent climbed onto his lap. “I’m scared.”

  Too late, Quinn realized they shouldn’t have been discussing this in front of the children. He wrapped one arm around Trent and pulled Reece closer to his side. Helen did the same to Clara and Olivia. “Hey, we’re all safe. We’re all together. Let’s not worry about anything.”

  “Your uncle is right. How about each of us shares their favorite part of their trip to Austin? Who wants to go first?” Helen soon had th
em thoroughly distracted in reminiscing about the fun they’d had.

  As the train ride lengthened, the younger two were lulled to sleep by the rhythmic clack of the rails, while the older two read the books Helen had brought along for them. Even Quinn was yawning by the time the train stopped in Peppin. Making sure everyone was accounted for once they exited the train was easier this time since Trent was sleepily clinging to his hand. He glanced at Helen, who had Olivia in her arms, while Clara and Reece stood close by. “I’ll get the wagon from the livery and load our luggage in it then stop by the sheriff’s office. Perhaps you...”

  He faded off when he realized Helen’s gaze was resting beyond him. “No need. I think the sheriff is coming to us.”

  He turned to find Sean approaching with his wife, Lorelei. The man reached out to shake hands. “Welcome back, y’all. I’m glad I caught you, Quinn.”

  Caught was probably a good word. It certainly appeared as though the couple had been lying in wait. Quinn glanced at Helen before sending a questioning look to the sheriff. Was something wrong?

  “You’re just the man I was hoping to see,” Quinn said. “Do you have a moment to talk?”

  “Sure thing. I’ve already arranged for your luggage to be set aside. Why don’t you let Lorelei take the children to my office while we take a walk.”

  Lorelei leaned down to whisper to the children conspiratorially. “We’ll have some hot cider and sugar cookies.”

  Reece glanced to Quinn. “Is that all right, Uncle Quinn?”

  “Sure. Y’all go ahead.” Once the children were a good distance away, Quinn turned to Sean. “What’s happened?”

  Sean swept his hat forward to indicate they should leave the train station. “Let’s head toward the courthouse and I’ll tell you.”

  The sheriff had definitely been planning ahead for this conversation, but why? Momentarily forgetting Helen’s earlier distance, he reached for her hand. Thankfully, she didn’t pull away as they followed Sean down the street to the courtyard, where he slowed the pace to a leisurely stroll. “Did you want to tell me that you’d seen Charlie in Austin?”

  Quinn exchanged a confused glance with Helen. “Yes, how did you know?”

  “He sent a wire to let me know y’all were on the way.” Sean veered onto the path that led toward the courthouse. “That’s how I knew to meet your train.”

  Helen frowned. “Why would he do that?”

  “Charlie is actually Charles Powell. He’s a private detective who was hired to protect your family.”

  Quinn stopped to stare at the sheriff. “Protect us from what?”

  “Hired by whom?”

  “To answer Quinn’s question, it was a preventative measure in case Jeffery Richardson doubled back—which he didn’t. He was caught by authorities in Mexico two days ago.”

  “That’s great news.” Quinn glanced at Helen to share a relieved smile before they started walking again. “What about the children’s inheritance? Was it recovered?”

  “Much of it was. However, that ties back to Helen’s question.”

  Curiosity filled Helen’s voice as she repeated it. “Who hired Charlie?”

  Sean nodded toward the front of the courthouse, which came into view as they turned the corner. “There’s your answer.”

  A couple rose together from where they’d been sitting on the courthouse steps. The man descended quickly at first, then slowed to a stop a few feet away. Quinn could do nothing but stare, frozen in place by the man’s searching, deep blue eyes. A dimple appeared in his cheek. “Hello, little brother.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Quinn barely registered Helen’s gasp behind him as he stared at the taller, broader version of the brother he remembered. “Wade, is it really you?”

  “Sure is, partner. I’m a little worse for wear. You, on the other hand...” Wade’s smile faltered with regret. “You’re all grown up now. It’s been a long time. Too long.”

  Quinn was having as much trouble as Wade in reconciling the boy he’d known with the man standing before him. Quinn had missed his brother fiercely those first few years after Wade and their father had left. However, with age, the memories of their time together had become something pleasant yet distant. He couldn’t help feeling some of that distance now. Especially since no communication had passed between them and so much had happened after they’d said goodbye.

  There had been Nana’s death and their father’s death. Wade had become a father through his first marriage then widowed and remarried. Quinn, of course, had gotten married, as well. Quinn struggled through his shock to find his voice again. “You’re not dead. I mean I thank God you aren’t, but how?”

  “Believe me, I’ve been thanking God, too. I’d be happy to share the story with you and the children. First, let me introduce my wife, Charlotte.” Wade held out a hand to the flaxen-haired woman who descended the last few steps with graceful ease. Her dark green eyes mimicked the color of her dress, which looked fancy enough that she could have borrowed it from Helen’s closet in Austin.

  “This is truly a pleasure, Quinn. After all the good things Wade has shared about you, I feel as though I already know you.”

  “Thank you. It’s a pleasure to meet you, too.” Realizing he’d never had occasion to introduce Helen before, he placed a hand at the back of her waist as he looked down at her. “This is Helen, my wife.”

  She blinked as though coming out of a daze at the sound of her name. She offered her in-laws a smile that was pure graciousness. “I’m so glad to meet you both and that y’all are alive and well.”

  She didn’t look well. She looked pale. Suddenly, he realized why. Wade and Charlotte hadn’t just come to visit him. They’d come to take the children away. As much as Quinn had come to think of his nieces and nephews as his own children—as much as he loved them as he would his own—they weren’t. They belonged with their parents. Their real parents.

  As glad as he was that his brother was alive and as wonderful as it was to be together again, Quinn’s heart felt heavy at the prospect of the children leaving. Still, he knew what must be done. “Let’s go tell the children.”

  * * *

  Helen couldn’t breathe. She could hardly think. If it wasn’t for Quinn’s hand at the small of her back guiding her toward the sheriff’s office, she’d probably still be standing at the base of the courthouse steps in total shock. She rejoiced in the fact that Wade and Charlotte were alive. This was without a doubt the best thing that could have happened for her nieces and nephews. She knew that. Yet, somehow that didn’t ease her heartache at losing them.

  They’d decided on a similar plan to what the sheriff had done to break the news to the children, so Helen and Quinn entered the sheriff’s office while Wade and Charlotte stayed outside. Sean waited right inside the door for his cue to open it. Lorelei offered a compassionate smile in greeting. The children glanced up from where they sat surrounding the sheriff’s desk with their cups of cider and a cookie apiece. The sight of them was enough to fully pull Helen from the fog of shock that had fallen over her with Wade’s first words.

  “Thanks, Miss Lorelei.” Reece swallowed the last bite of his cookie. “Are we going home now?”

  Quinn mussed the boy’s hair. “Actually, we have a surprise for you.”

  Clara’s blue eyes widened with immediate interest. “What kind of surprise?”

  “Where is it?” Trent asked, already pushing his chair back to stand.

  Helen forced the cheery words past the lump in her throat. “It’s the best kind of surprise there is. First, I want everyone to stand in the middle of the room and face me. Clara, you bring Olivia. Good. Now, we’re all going to close our eyes and count to three.”

  With the children safely away from the steamy cups of cider, their backs facing the door and their eyes closed o
r covered, Helen met Quinn’s gaze. “One.”

  He nodded to the sheriff, though his eyes didn’t shift from hers as he came to stand beside her. His deep voice joined hers to say, “Two.”

  Helen watched the sheriff’s door ease open silently for Wade and Charlotte to slip inside. Wade’s chest swelled visibly in a gasp at the first glimpse of his children in months. Charlotte pressed a hand to her lips as tears filled her eyes. Helen swallowed. Quinn squeezed her hand and took over the count. “When I say the next number I want y’all to look straight at me. Understand?”

  They nodded.

  “Three.” Quinn waited until their eyes were on him to grin. “Your parents are alive. Turn around. They’re right behind you.”

  The children gasped and turned to run into their parents’ waiting embrace. Pandemonium broke out between Trent’s screams of joy and Clara’s heartfelt sobs. Olivia’s delighted giggles were punctuated by the occasional “Papa” or “Lotte.” Reece kept murmuring, “I can’t believe it.” There wasn’t a dry eye in the room or a face without a smile by the time the children calmed down enough to start asking questions.

  Wade pulled one of the chairs over for Charlotte to sit. Clara immediately climbed onto her lap. Reece stood beside the chair and put an arm around the woman’s shoulder. She, in turn, slipped one around his waist. Meanwhile, Wade sat in another chair with Olivia on one knee and Trent on the other. “I promised your uncle and aunt the story of what happened. If y’all listen closely and don’t interrupt, most of your questions will be answered.”

  Trent nodded as he put an arm around his father’s neck. “We’ll listen good.”

  Wade smiled then turned to address Quinn and Helen. “My bride and I decided to spend our short honeymoon on our sailboat off the coast of Alaska. We left the children in the care of my assistant, whom until that point had been a close personal friend and a man I trusted to handle many details of my life. I believe you met Jeffery Richardson.”