A Texan for Hire

by Amanda Renee

“I’m sure it’s a coincidence,” Janie said, but Abby didn’t miss the look that passed between the woman and her husband. They felt it, too. Something was definitely amiss.

  * * *

  CLAY FOUGHT TO WRAP his head around the likelihood that Abby and Bridgett were sisters. He needed to be absolutely certain before he even hinted at the possibility to Abby.

  Question after question churned in his head. He vaguely remembered when Bridgett had been born. He’d been only five years old. And Ruby. She’d been a wild one in her day, and she still had her moments...but secret twins? That would mean Abby’s mother, Maeve, wasn’t her biological mother.

  “This will devastate Abby.” It was the part of the job Clay hated the most. Telling people the things they paid him to uncover wasn’t always pleasant, especially when it meant telling them the life they knew was a lie. And Abby’s life wasn’t the only one about to be upended. Bridgett, Ruby, Abby’s parents...this revelation would hurt all of them.

  He stopped his truck at Ramblewood’s one and only traffic light on the corner of Main and Shelby. Abby was inside the Bed & Biscuit, yards away from the Curl Up & Dye Salon. Was it possible Abby’s biological mother was only a few yards away and she didn’t know of her existence?

  Clay’s phone rang. Abby. She couldn’t have fit the pieces together. Then again, maybe she had. His phone trilled a third time. Once more and it would go to voice mail. Knowing she might be watching him from one of the windows at the Bed & Biscuit, he answered the phone.

  “Hello.” Clay looked toward the inn and saw Abby waving to him from the front porch.

  “Clay, can you see me?” Abby asked breathlessly. “That’s you at the corner, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.” He honked his horn.

  “Turn right, will you?” She paused. Did she sense his hesitation? “Alfred has a photo of Walter and the mayor that I want to show you.”

  Darren Fox? “The current mayor or one from years ago?”

  “I’ll tell you when you get here.” Exasperation was evident in her voice.

  Without another word, she hung up. Clay hated facing Abby before he had any more information. Taking a deep breath, his ATF training clicked into high gear. Hiding the truth was second nature to him. He had worked undercover long enough to be able to convincingly lie to anyone, including Ana Rosa, the woman he’d loved. Why should today be any different?

  Because it was Abby.

  Clay wasn’t sure he’d be able to pull off lying to...to what? The new woman he loved? No way. It was too soon. They barely knew each other. And after Abby heard the truth about her family, or who she thought was her family, she might never want another thing to do with him. He’d forever be known as the man who destroyed her life.

  He parked in front of the Bed & Biscuit, dispensing with the adjacent lot. Willing himself from the truck, he trudged up the porch stairs, gathering every ounce of composure he could muster.

  The door swung wide and Abby grabbed him by the hand, leading him to the sitting room. Alfred and Janie Anderson searched through stacks of old photographs, while Mazie cleared more room on the end tables for them to spread out.

  “Look.” Abby thrust a photo into his hand. “That’s Walter. It’s the only one we’ve found so far, but that’s him. That’s my biological father.”

  Clay turned the photo over, noting the date. Was it possible Walter had been visiting Bridgett? If the man was in town years after Abby was born, then maybe he’d had a relationship with Ruby all along. Abby did say her mother had quickly dismissed the sister story and Abby herself had wondered if Walter had had an affair.

  “Well?” Abby stared up at him. “Don’t you have anything to say?”

  “Give me a minute,” Clay pleaded. “I’m running through a few scenarios in my head.” It wasn’t an outright lie.

  Darren Fox was definitely the other man in the picture. From the angle it was taken, it was hard to tell if they were simply standing near each other during the Harvest Festival parade or if they were in the middle of a conversation. Clay remembered hearing that Darren was in the Air Force back in the day, so it was possible the two men knew each other.

  “No luck finding any others, huh?” Clay asked.

  Abby sat silently in one of the arm chairs, her back and shoulders rigid. She began flipping through another stack.

  “Not yet,” Mazie answered, instead. “I’m looking to see if I can find one of Darren.”

  Clay feared Abby was about to stumble across a shot of Walter and Ruby together. None of this made sense. If Walter had had an affair with Ruby, why were the girls separated at birth? What would possess Ruby to do such a thing...unless one baby was stolen. Clay was grasping for answers, not wanting to face the fact the babies might have been purposely separated.

  “Abby.” Clay crouched beside her chair. “I know this is difficult and you want immediate answers. You’ve made great progress and I’m going to talk to Darren to see if he remembers—”

  “You can’t,” Abby interrupted. “Darren took off on a fishing trip somewhere.” Immediately Clay wondered if the timing was coincidental. “I can’t believe we only found one shot of Walter in here. There must be more.”

  “Let me help.” Clay hoped he would find any incriminating photos of Walter with Ruby before Abby did. It would give him the chance to soften the blow. He needed to check records at the courthouse, but he refused to leave Abby just yet.

  Two hours later, they’d collectively exhausted every photograph. Alfred left, saying he’d search through the more recent photos he had at home. Now that he had a face to go with the name, he knew who he was looking for.

  Abby clipped a leash on Duffy and started for the door. “I need to take him for a walk. Myself, too.”

  “Mind if I join you?” The courthouse could wait a while longer. “Care to talk about it? I’m a good listener.”

  “That’s funny coming from you,” Abby said without looking up. “You’re the most closed-off person I know.”

  “I’m working on changing that, Abby.”

  “Are you? Because from where I stand, it’s hard to tell. One minute you’re telling me you want to see where this goes and we’re all over each other in your kitchen, and then hours later I don’t feel that same connection from you. You run hot and cold. I never know what I’m going to get.”

  Clay tugged Abby into his arms. “I’m sorry.” Tilting her chin toward him, he slanted his mouth over hers for a brief kiss. Abby’s arms wound around his waist, pulling him closer.

  “I’ve never been surer of something and more confused at the same time,” she whispered.

  Clay held her away from him. “Because of me?”

  Abby shook her head and began to walk. “That single photograph told me a lot. Mazie said the Harvest Festival always falls on the second weekend in October. I checked the calendar on my phone and that year—the one on the back of the photo—the festival occurred during my birthday. Walter was in Ramblewood, three years to the day after I was born. If he didn’t have ties to the town, why would he come back? My mom said they lived here for a few months until on-base housing became available. There was something or someone else that brought Walter to Ramblewood. It had to be my sister. One thing bothers me, though.”

  “What?” Clay feared Abby was connecting the dots to her family tree.

  “Why did he come on my birthday and not hers?” Abby asked. “She’s here, Clay. I can feel it in my bones.”

  “Abby—”

  “I know it sounds crazy.” She quickened her pace and Duffy trotted to keep up. “It’s an indescribable feeling, and I’ve been trying to put my finger on it my entire life. I always felt something was missing. I told myself it was because Wyatt was wholly my parents’ child and I was just my mom’s...now I know it’s more than that. And once again, Walter has se
nt me on a scavenger hunt for my birthday. Only this time I don’t think the prize will necessarily be a happy one all around.”

  Clay knew exactly what Abby was trying to describe, even if she didn’t. He’d read twins had an enormous connection to each other, sometimes even to the extent of feeling the other’s pain. If anything, she’d confirmed to him that she didn’t know Maeve wasn’t her biological mother. If she felt this isolated from her family already, how would she feel when she learned the truth?

  He needed to check the records at the courthouse. He hoped he was wrong. Clay cursed himself for allowing his personal feelings to enter into the equation. Abby Winchester had knocked him off his game from the word go, and now he found himself needing answers fast.

  “Let me see what I can dig up,” he said. “We have a little more to go on, and there are a few things I want to check out. Will you do something for me in the meantime?”

  “What?” Abby hesitantly asked.

  “Take a ride out to Dance of Hope. See Kay, play with the dogs, go horseback riding. Get your mind off of this for a while.” And stay the hell away from the center of town. “Animal therapy is your passion, so take this time to learn everything you can and leave the rest to me. Will you do that?”

  Abby regarded him. Worry lines creased her forehead. “I feel like everything is seconds from imploding.”

  “You need to let me do my job.” Clay steered her back in the direction they’d come from. “I’ll drive you out there and pick you up later. That way, I won’t have to worry about you finding your way back in the dark.” Plus, it was the only way he could ensure she stayed away from town and wouldn’t accidentally uncover the truth.

  “You’re right.” Abby fell in step beside him. “I do love it out there.”

  With Abby safely tucked miles away from Bridgett and Ruby, Clay drove to the courthouse. It wasn’t legal for him to obtain a copy of Bridgett’s birth certificate without a court order, but Clay had a favor or two to call in. As unethical as it was, he convinced himself he was doing it for ethical reasons.

  Successful in his quest, he raced home to compare the dates and times on both women’s birth certificates. Bridgett’s listed her mother as Ruby, the father unknown. Since Steve Winchester adopted Abby, her parentage had been changed by the state. Single Birth was checked on both. Two girls, born on the same day, in the same town, twenty-nine minutes apart.

  Under most circumstances, this wouldn’t be unusual. Many babies were born around the same time, in the same hospital and no one thought twice about it. But Bridgett’s Place of Birth section didn’t list a hospital—it had a street address. The Double Trouble ranch. Same as Abby’s.

  Unless the ranch was a temporary birthing center for one night, Abby and Bridgett were fraternal twins.

  Why would Ruby give up one child for adoption and not the other? Did she know she had two babies? If she’d fallen unconscious after delivering the first baby or had been medicated heavily, anything was possible. It was all speculation, but he had to consider every angle.

  Stories of baby stealing were sometimes in the news, but in his hometown—on Double Trouble? Maybe he was making too much of this. Grabbing a pad from his kitchen table, he listed the places he needed to investigate next. Newspaper archives for missing baby stories and birth announcements. He’d also check in with the police department. But Clay instinctively knew he’d come up empty-handed.

  There were too many factors in play and he’d have to talk to Ruby before he told Abby what he had unearthed. But if his hunches were correct, how would Abby react when she discovered her parents had lied to her since birth. When she had said finding her sister would change her life, she hadn’t been kidding. Pandora’s box was officially opened. Clay tapped his pen on the table. What about Beau and Mable? What was their role in this?

  And Ruby. How did he tell a woman he had found her secret long-lost daughter? And how could he tell her daughters that they each had a secret twin sister? This was a small town, and he considered Ruby and Bridgett part of his extended family. A heavy feeling settled in his stomach. There was no way to handle this without hurting them.

  Clay swung by the Curl Up & Dye first. Shut tighter than a clam with a sore throat, he forgot the salon was always closed on Mondays. He needed answers, and this time he refused to take no for an answer. Beau and Mable had some explaining to do.

  From Double Trouble’s entrance, Clay saw Beau’s truck once again parked at the ranch. Beau stood on the cottage’s front porch, talking to Mable.

  Clay parked, hopped down from his truck and strode over to the porch stairs.

  “Beau, Mable.” Clay tipped his hat. “I need to have a word with you both.”

  Beau didn’t make eye contact. Instead, he hastened down the stairs with a speed Clay didn’t think the man was capable of at his age.

  “Some other time,” the man called over his shoulder. “I have business to tend to.”

  “I know about Bridgett and Abby,” Clay called out.

  The words hung in the air like a thick black cloud over the two of them. Beau stood frozen, his back to Clay.

  “It’s time, Beau,” Mable said from the top of the porch stairs. Her hands pressed into each other in front of her. She looked skyward, as if she were praying for help.

  Beau faced Clay. Lines of worry etched his forehead. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. No one was to know.”

  “Come inside.” Mable beckoned them to follow her into the cottage.

  The afternoon sun shone through the windows, casting deep shadows across the kitchen. Mable grabbed the percolator from the counter and rinsed it at the sink. She reached into a grape-vine decorated ceramic canister and scooped some fresh ground coffee into the metal basket. Satisfied, she plugged the cord into the pot.

  “Don’t stand there with your hats in your hands,” Mable chastised. “Both of you, sit. Now.”

  The men did as they were told. No one dared to disobey Mable. She’d threatened to tan plenty of hides in her day.

  “Ruby was different back then,” Beau began. “She was from Georgia. Married at seventeen to her high school sweetheart and divorced by the time she was nineteen. She wasn’t cut out to be a soldier’s wife. Randolph Air Force Base was the end of the line for her and her marriage. She played around some. Not a lot, but enough to get herself pregnant.”

  “Why do men say that?” Mable interrupted. “Women don’t get themselves pregnant. It takes two to tango, old man.”

  “Pardon me.” Beau gave Mable’s hand a gentle squeeze. “A child didn’t fit into Ruby’s life. She had plans. Big plans, she used to say, although I can’t quite remember what those plans were. Doesn’t matter now. Anyway, she arranged to put the baby up for adoption.”

  “In the meantime,” Mable said. “Ruby lived here, at the ranch, with Fran and Ed. They took a liking to her straight away. Not having kids themselves, they treated Ruby as if she were their daughter.”

  “It still doesn’t explain why she gave Abby up for adoption and kept Bridgett,” Clay said.

  “Ruby never knew she was pregnant with twins,” Mable explained. “She didn’t have the best medical care and she showed up here somewhere in her eighth month.”

  “How is that even possible?” Clay asked.

  “It wasn’t like today where the mothers have all these ultrasounds and 3D imaging. Hell, they know what the baby looks like before God does. The poor girl had nothing.”

  “Nothing except a set of lungs that were loud enough to wake the dead five counties over.” Beau wiped his forehead with a faded blue bandana. “I’ll never forget the night those babies were born.”

  “I was right.” Clay slapped the table. “You were there.”

  “I was a ranch hand at the time.” The old man rested against the ladder-back frame of the chair. He smiled across
the table at Mable. “Remember how tiny they were?”

  “How could I forget? I was the first person on this earth to hold them.”

  “You?” Clay asked.

  “I think Ruby wanted to forget she was pregnant up until the final push. She didn’t tell anyone she was in labor until that first baby practically fell out of her. By then it was too late to get her to the hospital. She wouldn’t have gone anyway. Couldn’t afford it. Plus, she was ashamed she was giving her baby away. No matter how many times we told her there was no shame in making sure her child had a loving home.”

  “But there were two babies,” Clay said.

  “I still don’t know who was more surprised,” Mable said. “Ruby didn’t want to see her daughter. She banned her from the room the instant she was born. Fran consoled Ruby while I looked after the baby downstairs until Dr. Barnes arrived.”

  “Dr. Barnes?”

  “You may not remember him,” Mable replied. “He retired a year or so later. When we knew it was too late to get Ruby to the hospital, we called him.”

  “Then the screaming began again,” Beau said.

  “It sure did,” Mable said. “I thought Ruby was dying by the sound of those screams. I handed the baby off to Ed and watched that poor girl writhe in pain, screaming at the top of her lungs. Honey, let me tell you. We were scared and didn’t know what was wrong. Until she said she had to push. And she pushed herself out another baby.”

  Clay raked his hand through his hair. “I saw both birth certificates. They both say single birth. Abby’s adoption would have changed her records, but not Bridgett’s. Why doesn’t hers state she had a twin?”

  “Because when Dr. Barnes arrived, he was as surprised as all of us were,” Mable said. “I’m not saying it was right, but things were done to keep Ruby’s secret. The adoption agency only knew about the one child. Ruby kept the other for herself.”

  “Why didn’t you try to stop her?” Clay demanded.

  “It wasn’t our place,” Beau answered. “This was Ruby’s decision. We honored it and we stood beside her. This was her secret, not ours. We kept our promise until you went nosing around.”