Hope’s smile burst out. “I like it when you tell me I’m pretty.Am I pretty, Mommy?”
“The prettiest little girl ever born,” Gracie said. They reached Allie’s car, and she buckled Hope into the back. “It’s going to be a long drive,” she told her. “I brought you some coloring books and crayons and a few stories. Or you can take a nap if you like.”
“Are we going to stop and have lunch? I might get hungry. My tummy is already making noises. Our class was just getting ready to go to lunch.”
“We sure are. In about an hour, we’ll stop and have something to eat.” Gracie buckled her seat belt, then pulled onto the street.
The note she’d left Michael said only that she was taking Hope and leaving, but he’d check at her dad’s.Which was fine, because once she saw how her father responded to her sudden reappearance, she’d call Michael and explain better.Keeping her burning eyes on the road, she tried to convince herself this was best all the way around.
His earnest blue eyes came to mind, and she nearly turned around. How could she leave him and the children? How could she not? Staying would put them all in terrible danger. She’d seen those federal agents gunned down right in front of her. They would all be safer without her, and she had the power to protect them.
She wasn’t meant to be happy. It was clear God would thwart her at every turn.And how could she blame him? Look at what she’d done with her life. Her mother was in the grave because of Gracie’s selfishness. Her money was gone, with nothing to show for it. Now the man she loved would die because of her poor choices. Unless she stopped it somehow. She was done. At the bottom of life’s barrel.
The road blurred, and she blinked twice to clear her vision. Self-pity wouldn’t save them. In the rearview mirror, she could see Hope’s beautiful eyes drooping in sleep. No sacrifice was too great for her daughter. Once she was sure her daughter was safe, she needed to find Cid and get to the bottom of his obsession. If she could convince him to make a new life without her, she’d go back to Michael and the kids.
Her pulse kicked. The woman had said Cid wanted Hope.Why?
It made no sense. If she threw herself on the mercy of an evil man, who would protect Hope? Her father was sixty years old. How could he protect a child? Her thoughts scattered like cottonwood seeds on the wind.There seemed no way out for her.
I’m here.
The words, though inaudible, hit her heart. She gasped and jerked the car to the side of the road.The pounding in her chest was only her heart, not God trying to get her attention. Or was it? “Is that you, God?” she whispered. “Are you here?”
Air, she had to have air. She ran the window down and tried to draw enough oxygen into her lungs. It was as if a horse stood on her chest, squeezing the air from her. Her eyes burned, then tears slid down her cheeks. She was tired, so tired, of dealing with her shame. Could God really forgive her? The reality sank in with a gentle breeze through the window.
He’d never left her. She was the one who left him. He was waiting in the same place where she’d turned and walked away.The tears came faster now, obscuring her vision, clogging her throat.The steering wheel was her only support, and she collapsed against it.
“I want to move back to you. Show me how,” she choked out. Though she lay still against the wheel, her head spun, faster and faster, as though she sailed through time and space. Gradually, her panting stilled, her pulse slowed, her vision cleared.Warmth enveloped her as though someone held her in his arms, safer than she’d ever been.
God was here, right here. Closing her eyes, she unburdened herself on the Lord. All the vile, selfish things she’d done over the past years flooded into her memory, and she confessed them all.With each one behind her, it was as though she floated higher and higher above the seat grounding her in place.When she opened her eyes, she was clean. And she couldn’t stop smiling.
Returning to God had been so easy.Why had she turned it into a mountain when it was only a groundhog hill? Clean. She was clean.The shame, the knowledge of how she’d disappointed God,was washed away. God had never let go of her, though she’d ignored his gentle promptings. There was only one more person whose pardon she had to seek.
She pulled onto the road again. Her father’s house was only five miles away.The closer the car rolled to her destination, the slower she went. Facing God with her failures had been easier than what lay ahead of her. Her father could order her off the property. He might shut the door in her face.
The road loomed just ahead. She forced herself to slow, then turn down the road. The macadam strummed a message against her tires. Turn back, turn back, it said. As she came to the driveway, she nearly obeyed the insistent command. But no. She’d come this far. Hope deserved a better life. She deserved a grandfather, and the dad Gracie remembered would dote on her daughter.
Even if he threw Gracie to the vultures.
Her cell phone rang. She slowed the car and grabbed it. “Hello, Cid,” she said, keeping her voice low. “I thought you’d call.”
“It is now time to come home, Gracie. I know where you are. If you do not come, the next bomb we leave for your husband will not be discovered. And we will make sure to put one in the little ones’ rooms too.”
She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak. In her mind’s eye, she saw the explosion, the blood on dear Michael’s face, the screams of the children. “Cid, I’m married.What’s the point of this?”
“I will tell you when you come,” he said, his voice inflexible. “And do not think of refusing. I have your horse, and he will go to the pet food factory if you do not show up.”
She gasped. “King? You took my horse?”
“If you can call that piece of flesh a horse.”
No plea would move him. The obsession in his voice had grown more strident. She smelled oranges. “You’re cruel, Cid,” she whispered. “Take him home. I’ll come.”
“I thought so.”
“Where should I meet you?” she finally managed to whisper.
“Davis Mountains Indian Lodge. At five.”
“Davis Mountains Indian Lodge,” she repeated. “Where?”
“There’s a picnic area.”
He gave her directions, and she committed them to memory. “I’ll be there,” she said.
“Yes, you will. Or your new husband and his brats are dead.”
The phone clicked in her ear, then fell out of her nerveless fingers. “Oranges, just like his sister,” she muttered.
Her hands trembled, and she clutched them in her lap. She swallowed hard and put the phone away. Her father’s house peeked over the hill. She accelerated the last few feet, then slowed. The tires quit their litany when they hit the smooth blacktop driveway.
The car rolled to a stop. She shut off the engine, then sat looking at the house. Glancing in the rearview mirror, she saw Hope was still asleep. Good.This was a conversation best made between her and her father first. She ran down the windows, then eased open her door.A gentle click latched it without waking Hope. The sun glared in her eyes, and she squinted.The door to the house stood open, barred only with the screen door. Dad must be outside, in the barn or the garden.
After making sure Hope still slept, she walked to the side of the house.The sweet smell of freshly turned earth told her where to find her father. She stood watching him as he stooped among the last of the tomatoes. He was a little grayer, a little heavier, but still the man she remembered. The man who used to play horsey with her. The father who took her for ice cream on Saturdays. The daddy who read her a story at night before he tucked her into bed.
Then he turned and their eyes met.
“GRACIE?” MICHAEL CALLED. HE LET THE FRONT DOOR BANG BEHIND HIM. The house held a still quality that put his senses on high alert. “Anyone here?”
Caesar’s ears stood up, and he padded to the kitchen, where Michael heard him lap from his water bowl. The dog detected no intruders. Michael followed him. “Find Gracie, boy.” The dog licked his chops and whined but mad
e no move to leave.
She wasn’t here.
She was at Bluebird Ranch. His terror had driven today’s plans from his mind. Even as his relief blew from his lips, a paper on the table caught his attention. He recognized Gracie’s handwriting. His name was at the top.
Michael, I’m so sorry, but I have to leave. It’s better for you and the kids if you don’t try to find me. I love you too much to stay. Gracie.
It took a moment for the words to penetrate. Leave? As in go for good? No, he wouldn’t accept that. Gracie loved him. She wouldn’t go off and leave a cold note behind. Pain crushed his chest. His hand spasmed around the paper, and it crumpled under the pressure.
“Don’t do this to me, Gracie,” he muttered.
He released his grip on the note and smoothed it to reread it.That’s what she meant—that she was leaving him for good. The strength ran out of his legs, and he sat heavily in the chair. A family didn’t disintegrate when times got tough. Not if they loved one another. Could someone have made her write this? The warning from the woman at the river came to mind. He had to find Gracie, protect her. She had very little money, so she couldn’t have gone far.
She had no vehicle. She either left here with help, or under duress. He grabbed his cell phone and dialed Allie.
“Hey, Michael,” she said when she answered.
“Has Gracie been back since she went to feed the livestock?”
The smile left her voice, and she shook her head. “Is everything okay?”
He sagged against the wall. “She left a note at the house saying it would be better for us if she was gone. Did she say anything at all?”
“She just said she’d be back after feeding the horses. Um, Michael, speaking of the horses, did you give King away?”
“Of course not. Gracie loves that horse.”
“I could have sworn that was him in a trailer that went by about half an hour ago.”
Michael went to the window and stared toward the barn. He didn’t see the horse, but Allie must have been mistaken.“Where could she have gone?” he muttered.
“Is it because Jordan was nearly kidnapped yesterday?”
Caesar whined and Michael stooped to rub his ears. “I think her old boyfriend has found her. She’s trying to escape again. But he’ll just find her like he did this time. It’s not that hard these days.”
“Does she have any family who would help?”
“Her father,” he said, suddenly remembering. “I bet she’s gone to Pecos.”
“That’s not running very far.”
“No. No, it’s not. Which means if she’s there, it’s just her first stop. I’ve got to figure out his name and where he lives.Thanks,Allie.”
“You want Rick to come with you? I can get him from the barn. He could fly you there.”
“That’s a great idea! I’ll be down as soon as I have an address. Is it okay if I call the school and have the kids get off the bus at your house?”
“Of course.And we’ll take care of the horses if you’re not back in time.”
He closed his phone, then went to the living room, where he got his laptop and ran a search for the last name of Lister. Bingo. Only one in Pecos. That narrowed it down. He printed out the address, then yelled for Caesar and ran to the truck.
When he reached it, he glanced toward the barn.The corral gate was open. He jogged across the scruffy yard. King wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Michael walked around the barn. Still no sign of the horse. The barn held only Fabio, who nickered when he saw Michael.
Could someone have stolen King? But why would someone steal a poor, broken-down horse? Frowning, he jogged back to the truck, then drove toward town. He dialed the school on the way.
Fifteen minutes later, he sat back in the front passenger seat of Rick’s Cessna as the small plane soared over the desert landscape. From this vantage point, the Rio Grande was a blue ribbon in a brown, gold, and red tapestry.The roar of the engines filled his head, but it couldn’t drown out the voices inside. Since he found the note, he hadn’t stopped begging God to lead him to his wife.
Rick glanced at him. “You doing okay, buddy?”
“Not really. I can’t believe she’d do anything like this. Look.There are things you don’t know.” Michael filled him in on how their marriage had begun and why.
Rick listened intently as he guided the plane. “So this Hispanic woman said to take care of your wife and her daughter. And she knew your name.That doesn’t sound good.”
“I rushed home to find Gracie gone. I’m wondering if she got another call, or if the incident yesterday spooked her.” He wanted to pound something. “She doesn’t have any way to protect herself or Hope. I had no trouble finding her dad.They won’t either.”
“Unless she isn’t planning on staying there. Maybe she hopes to ask for money or some other kind of help.”
“They haven’t spoken in years. If he turns her away, what then? She’ll be at the mercy of whoever is looking for her.”
“Any idea who that is?”
“She thinks it’s an old boyfriend with ties to a cartel. I’m not so sure.And why try to take Jordan yesterday? Is that part of this, or was it Vargas?” Michael took off his cowboy hat and rubbed his forehead.
He saw the runway ahead. He’d soon have answers. He hoped.
25
GRACIE’S MUSCLES FROZE WHEN HER EYES MET HER FATHER’S. IT HAD been so very long since she’d last looked into those blue orbs. Her own eyes were carbon copies, right down to the long, straight lashes. The veins in her neck pulsed and expanded as she waited for his reaction.
His hand came up to shade his eyes, and she realized the glare of the sun might be obscuring a clear vision of who she was. She could have called out, but she waited, willing him to recognize her. A bird called from the fence post and the breeze lifted the hair from her hot neck. Maybe she’d have no choice but to tell him.When recognition claimed his expression, she would know whether to turn and run away or walk forward.
He squinted, and his jaw dropped.The shovel fell from his hand. He started forward in a gait that changed to a run. His arms opened. “Gracie, oh, baby girl!”
The sound of his voice filled her vision with soft green clouds, and she smelled fresh-mown hay. Only her dad’s voice was like that. A sob erupted from her throat, and she leaped toward him. Her feet barely skimmed the ground, and she watched his face. His face contorted as tears ran down his cheeks. His shambling lope stopped three feet from her. His gaze roamed her face as though he feared she would vanish.
He opened his arms. “Gracie? It is you.You’ve come home.”
Gracie stepped into the shelter of his embrace. Her face pressed against his shirt. It smelled of damp dirt and Juicy Fruit gum. His arms were tight bands around her, and she knew he wouldn’t let her go anytime soon. She had no plans to leave his embrace either.
“Daddy,” she choked out. “Daddy, I’ve missed you.”
His rough hands, still smelling of earth, smoothed her hair. “I wasn’t even sure you were alive. I’ve prayed for you every day, honey. And listened for the sound of your footsteps.”
Tears squeezed from under her shut lids. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she choked out. “I’m so sorry, Daddy. For everything.”
She burrowed her face tighter against his chest. A million memories flooded her mind: Laughing with her parents over Scrabble in the evenings. She and her dad mucking out the barn every Saturday. Hanging clothes on the line out back with her mom. She’d ruined it all by her cowardice and selfishness.
“Hush, baby girl,” he crooned. “You’re home now.That’s all I want.”
She raised her head. “Mom died because of me.”
“It was an accident, Gracie,” he said gently. “It’s not your fault.”
Hoarse sobs burst from her throat. “It was, Daddy. You don’t know. I didn’t tell you.”
He held up his hand. “Gracie, I found the pregnancy test in the trash in your room. I know.” His voice w
as heavy with sorrow.
She gulped and went on. “It’s not just that. I knew that horse was dangerous. I got on the horse because I thought it would throw me. I. . . I hoped a fall would make me miscarry.” She searched his face to see if her words had killed his love.
He nodded heavily. “I’m not stupid, honey.When I found the positive test, I thought that’s what you’d done.We all knew how dangerous Diablo was.”
“Can you ever forgive me?”
“Can you forgive me? I said terrible things to you that night.”
“I deserved them all,” she whispered.
The light in his eyes dimmed but didn’t go out. “Did you make that horse rear? No, Gracie.You didn’t. It was an accident.”
She buried her face in his shirt again. “I wanted to get rid of Hope. I’m so ashamed.”
He pulled her away and studied her face. “You. . . you have a child, honey?” His voice wobbled.
She nodded. “Her name is Hope. She’s five.”
“You named her after your mother,” he said, his voice awed.
“Yes. She looks like Mom too.” Every time she looked in Hope’s face, she remembered what she’d done.The penance had been terrible.
His eyes grew wet. “It’s a beautiful name.”
“I thought it would bring me luck and give us hope for a future, but I couldn’t outrun what I’d done.”
He glanced over her shoulder. “Where is she?”
“In the car. I’ll get her.” But she didn’t want to move from his embrace. “Daddy, you didn’t answer. Do you forgive me?”
His eyes widened. “Forgive you? Of course, Gracie, of course.” He hugged her again. “There’s nothing you could do that would make me stop loving you.”
“You never called. I always had the same cell phone number, so I thought you hated me.”
He rubbed his chin. “I tried to do it so many times. Every time I picked up the phone, I heard God whisper, ‘No.’”
Her throat constricted. “Maybe I had to be ready too,” she whispered.
Lonestar Homecoming Page 22
