The Texan Quartet (Books 1-4) Omnibus

by Claire Boston

  She sighed.

  Damn, she really didn’t want to do this now. She didn’t have the strength to confront them. But if she didn’t turn up, they would probably turn up at the café asking Nora where she lived. She had to do it. This was a necessary step toward her freedom. Admitting what had happened to her, what she’d allowed to happen to her, was part of putting it behind her and Toby.

  She turned off the water and dried herself, quickly dressing in the clothing she’d brought in from her bedroom. She checked the mirror, put the lightest touch of makeup on and then checked the time.

  Time to go.

  Happy play noises were coming from Toby’s bedroom and Elle poked her head in. Imogen sat cross-legged on the floor playing with the horses. She smiled.

  “Toby, I have to go out for a little while. Imogen and George are going to take care of you until I get back.”

  “Ok, Mom. Bye.” He didn’t look up.

  Relieved he’d forgotten about his grandparents, Elle collected the copies of the photos and then hurried into the kitchen. George was finishing the stir-fry. He’d taken off his jacket, rolled up his sleeves and loosened his tie. He looked competent and sexy as hell.

  He looked right at home.

  His gaze met hers and then traveled down her body and back up again. Something warmed in her belly.

  “I’m off,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

  “Take care,” he said. “You’ve got my number in your phone?”

  She nodded.

  “Call me if you need me.”

  Elle had no intention of calling him, but she appreciated the gesture. “I won’t be late.”

  “We’ll take good care of Toby.”

  She believed him.

  Elle was at the door when Toby called, “Mom, wait!”

  He ran into the room, pulling on a jacket. “You’re going to meet Memah. I want to come.”

  Elle groaned inwardly. “Not this time, Toby.”

  “But I wanna see Memah!” The loud whine was so like Dean’s that Elle froze for a moment.

  “No. I need to talk to them about some things.”

  He screwed up his face, getting ready for the full theatrics.

  George entered the room. “Hey Toby, dinner’s ready.”

  Toby ignored him. He opened his mouth and screamed, “I want Memah!”

  George winced and Imogen hurried out.

  Elle couldn’t leave while he was like this. Her heart ached at denying him but she stood firm. “No. You’re going to have a nice night playing with Imogen and George. You can visit Memah another time.”

  “No, now.” The sobs started, big tears and chest shaking sobs. “I miss Memah.”

  Elle was the meanest mother in the world, but she couldn’t possibly take him. She couldn’t even promise Toby when he’d see his grandparents next. She wasn’t willing to guarantee anything until she discovered how Lindsay and Martin reacted to what she had to say. Crouching down, she held out her arms and brought him close. “I know you miss them. They miss you too, but tonight I need to talk to them about your dad.”

  The sobs lessened a bit. He peered up at her, fear in his eyes. “We don’t have to go back to him, do we?”

  She cursed herself for staying so long with Dean. “No, but I need to tell them why.”

  He didn’t quite understand but the sobs had lessened into tears. The thought of Dean was sobering for them both.

  “I need to go now. You’ll be a good boy for George and Imogen, won’t you?”

  He nodded, tears still running down his face. Elle squeezed him tightly and kissed both cheeks. Her heart was aching as she stood up.

  Imogen approached and put a hand on Toby’s shoulder, giving Elle a look full of sympathy and understanding. “Come on, Toby, we need to eat George’s dinner before it gets cold.”

  “Will he get mad if it goes cold?” Toby whispered, glancing up at Elle, frightened again.

  Elle’s heart clenched. It was her fault her baby was so fearful. “George won’t get mad,” she told him. “Now go and eat. I’ll be home shortly.”

  George laughed. “Of course I won’t be mad – it just won’t be as nice if we wait.” He stayed where he was, over by the kitchen, seeming to understand he shouldn’t approach, that it might scare Toby.

  Toby slowly reached out and took hold of Imogen’s hand and walked toward George. When he got to the man, he hesitated and then held out a hand for him to take.

  A hundred expressions crossed George’s face as he took Toby’s hand and walked into the kitchen.

  Elle blinked back tears. She would do everything in her power to make up for the sorrow she’d put her baby through.

  Including deal with Dean’s parents.

  ***

  Elle was ten minutes late by the time she arrived at the restaurant. Martin and Lindsay were already there, and Martin was checking his watch. Elle hurried over.

  “I’m sorry I’m late.”

  Lindsay smiled coolly and stood, giving her a hug. Martin nodded to her.

  Elle slid into the seat across from them.

  “You’re looking well.” Martin was a man of few words, but Elle always felt he took everything in. She liked him.

  The waitress came over and took their orders. Elle ordered the first thing on the menu: a burger. She wasn’t hungry.

  When the woman left, Elle clasped her hands together, not sure where to start.

  “It was so lovely to see Toby today. I can’t believe he’s grown so much in six months. It will be great to have him out on the ranch to see the foals.” Lindsay seemed as enthusiastic and as oblivious as ever. Seeing as the older woman had only just been calling her names, Elle wondered for the first time how much of her southern courtesy was an act.

  Martin put a hand over his wife’s. “We need to ask Elle why she left.” He said it quietly, no threat under the words.

  Elle closed her eyes, took a deep breath and opened them again. “I left because Dean hit me.”

  There was silence at their table, and the noise around the restaurant swelled to fill it. Martin’s face was stony, but Lindsay’s fine skin flushed immediately with indignation.

  “Well, I never heard anything more ridiculous in my life,” she exclaimed. “You shouldn’t be telling these lies.”

  Martin patted Lindsay’s hand. “Would you like to explain?”

  Elle had expected Lindsay to react that way. She’d always doted on Dean, her youngest boy. Elle was glad Martin was here. He’d listen before he’d make his judgment.

  “When we first moved to the ranch, it was a little easier because I could take Toby out in the yard if he was crying and give Dean the quiet he needed. Then when Toby stopped sleeping through the night, Dean would get angry and he would yell.”

  Lindsay tutted. “That’s normal. He would have been tired.”

  Elle nodded. “I used that excuse as well. There were a few times when I couldn’t keep Toby quiet, and Dean would lash out and hit me.”

  This time Lindsay slapped her hand down on the table. “Nonsense.” The noise in the restaurant hushed at her exclamation and several people looked over. She lowered her voice. “We would have noticed the bruises.”

  Martin stayed silent so Elle continued.

  “Most of the time I could cover them with long shirts or makeup.” She took a breath. “There were other times, when I’d made him unhappy, that he would make me stay in the house when he went out. If he found I had disobeyed him, he would hit me. He wanted to have total control over me.”

  “The only time you didn’t go out with Dean was when you were sick,” Lindsay stated.

  Elle nodded. “He often said I had the flu, despite having no one to catch it from. Apparently I had bad period pains, or chickenpox or any number of other diseases.” Elle smiled tightly. “Funny how I’ve not been sick once since I left him. If I’d had everything he said I had, I should have been at the doctor once a month. I’m not sure whether you ever offered to c
ome and check on me, or to help with Toby, but I’m sure if you did, he came up with some excuse.”

  Lindsay’s mouth shut.

  Elle got the photos out of her purse and handed them over. “I took pictures.”

  Lindsay gasped and covered her mouth. Martin’s expression was unreadable but he slowly flicked through all the Polaroids. Finally he looked up. “Why did you stay? Why didn’t you tell us?”

  “I had no money, no car, nowhere to go. When I went into Brenham, Dean only ever gave me enough cash to buy what we needed, and my parents didn’t want me after I left California.”

  “So what changed?”

  Elle looked Martin in the eye. “He hit Toby. The broken wrist wasn’t because he fell down the steps: it was because Dean backhanded my baby on to the coffee table. I had to protect him.”

  Lindsay shook her head, trying to deny it, but Elle held Martin’s gaze. His eyes acknowledged her words.

  “You won’t be coming back,” he said.

  “No.”

  “Wait a damn minute,” Lindsay said, putting up a hand. “You can’t mean to say you believe her, Martin.”

  “I suspected you weren’t happy,” he said. “I should have asked if you needed help. I’m sorry.”

  The relief he actually believed her was a balm to Elle.

  “No. I won’t believe it. Dean loves her. When I told him I’d run into her, that we were having dinner, he jumped straight in his car to come here.”

  Goosebumps leaped to Elle’s skin and her breath caught in her throat. She jumped to her feet, sweeping the photos up and thrusting them in to her bag. “You told him?” The ranch was an hour’s drive from the outskirts of Houston and, depending on the time Lindsay called, he could be there any second. She wasn’t hanging around.

  “I told you not to call him,” Martin said.

  “He had a right to know,” Lindsay shot back.

  Elle was already moving toward the door.

  “Elle, wait a minute. At least let us get your number,” Martin called, following her.

  Elle reached the door of the restaurant and flung it open.

  Only to be face to face with the one person she didn’t want to see.

  Terror gripped her heart at the sight of the long, lank hair, those dark eyes and the small hands, which didn’t look as if they could hurt a fly.

  Dean.

  Chapter 6

  Elle backed away instinctively, crashing in to Martin, who was right behind her.

  “Elle, thank God: you’re all right,” Dean said, striding forward, arms outstretched as if to hug her.

  She flinched and pushed past Martin, moving further into the restaurant and away from the door. Her breath came in gasps. She had to get away from him. She wouldn’t be trapped.

  Dean’s mouth dropped open and hurt crossed his face. “Darling, what’s wrong?”

  That caressing, caring tone had once been so soothing to Elle, had once made her think everything would be all right, had once made her believe in happily ever after.

  Now it made her ill.

  “I’m not your darling,” she said.

  A waitress strode over and asked them to be seated or leave. Elle desperately wanted to leave, but if she did, Dean would follow her. She was certain.

  Choosing the lesser of two evils, she led the way back to their booth and let Martin slide in first. Then she followed him, not allowing room for Dean to sit beside her.

  He slid in next to his mother, frowning at her.

  Nerves were dancing such a ferocious jig on her skin that she was shaking. She clenched her hands together. She needed to deal with this and leave. She needed to make him understand, needed to be rid of him. “Dean, it’s over. I made it clear in the letter I sent you. I want nothing to do with you and you won’t get to see Toby. Not after you broke his wrist.”

  He frowned, more hurt filling his eyes. “I didn’t mean to hurt my boy. It was an accident. I didn’t know he was behind me.”

  Elle gaped at him. It had been no accident. Her anger gave her courage. “Your parents have seen photos of what you did. The bruises on my arms, those on my stomach and the black eye, from before you got careful. They know all about how you used to hit me and keep me locked in the house.”

  Dean turned to his parents. “You know it’s not true. I don’t know anything about these photos, but we lived with you. Elle was often out on the ranch, never hidden.”

  Lindsay nodded.

  “Those photos were taken at the house,” Martin said. “How did she get the bruises then?”

  Dean was a little uncertain when faced with his father, but he wasn’t backing down. “I don’t know. Maybe she fell off a horse. They’ve probably been photoshopped.”

  Elle had had enough. She wasn’t going to let herself be drawn into an argument about who was telling the truth. She had to get out of there, away from him. She stood. “I will fight your custody claim,” she said to Dean.

  Turning to Lindsay she said, “I wish Toby could come to visit you at the ranch, but I do not trust Dean with him and therefore if you wish to visit him, you will have to contact me.” As much as she wanted to cut all ties with them, she couldn’t do it to Toby. She knew how much it hurt to be cut off from family. She took a breath and directed the next sentence at Martin. “I will give you my phone number, so you can arrange visits, but only if you don’t give it to Lindsay or Dean.” There was no way Lindsay wouldn’t give it to Dean, but Martin was stronger.

  “Agreed.”

  Elle turned to Dean. “Don’t come near me or Toby. If you do, I’ll get a restraining order.”

  “You can’t do that. He’s my son. I love him.”

  “You don’t. You never did.” It had taken her so long to realize. “You called him a nuisance, you wanted me to abort him, you kicked him out of the house for disrupting ‘your muse’. I won’t let you harm either of us any more.”

  She walked over to the waitress and asked for some paper. She wrote down her cell number and gave it to Martin.

  Dean was on his feet. “You can’t walk away from me. I need you. You give purpose to my life – you’re my muse.”

  It was always about him. “Goodbye, Dean.” She turned to walk away.

  Dean grabbed her arm so hard she gasped, his fingers pressing in to her skin. “You can’t go.” He pulled her back, gripping both of her arms now, and tears sprang to her eyes at the pain.

  “Let go of me.” She’d intended to say it loudly but it came out as a whisper. The pain took her right back to the house, when she’d been alone and defenseless with a baby to think of.

  “You’re mine. We love each other.”

  “Let go of her, son.” Martin had a hand on his son’s arm. “You’re hurting her.”

  Dean blinked and let go. “I’m sorry.”

  She’d heard those words more times than she could remember. She backed away from him until she got to the door. Then when she was outside and away from the windows, Elle broke into a sprint, the fear finally releasing and pushing her into action. She raced to her car, only checking briefly over her shoulder to ensure Dean wasn’t following her.

  He wasn’t.

  Still Elle wasn’t taking any chances. Taking a couple of breaths to control the shaking, she started her car and drove straight to the nearest police station. She walked in the door and up to the counter and said, “I’d like to file for a restraining order.”

  ***

  Half an hour later, Elle returned to her car. The officer at the station had been very kind to her. He’d taken down her details and explained she had to go to the courthouse for the order itself, but had promised to send some officers to the restaurant to get a statement from the waitress who had witnessed the altercation.

  Elle suspected it was because she’d burst into tears after announcing what she wanted, and had taken five minutes to calm down enough to explain why.

  But at least now she knew what she had to do.

  She started her engine an
d drove home, keeping a close eye on her rearview mirror in case she was being followed. Her common sense told her Martin would have kept Dean with them but she wasn’t willing to risk it. A couple of times the car behind her took the same turns as she did, so she doubled-back to make sure it didn’t follow. When she finally pulled into her apartment building parking lot, there weren’t any cars behind her.

  Grabbing her bag, she hurried inside.

  The first sound she heard was laughter from Toby’s bedroom – his childish shriek, followed by a deep belly laugh that had to be coming from George.

  Some of her stress evaporated.

  Taking a couple of deep breaths, she calmed herself. She couldn’t let Toby see her in this state. In the kitchen, she splashed water on her face and dried it.

  Hoping she looked halfway normal, she followed the voices through to Toby’s bedroom just as Imogen said, “It’s time for bed.”

  “Ain’t no filly gonna tell us when to go to bed,” came George’s voice.

  “Yeehaw,” Toby yelled.

  Elle walked into the room and stopped in surprise, her head tipping to the side.

  Toby was sitting on top of George, who was on all fours, pretending to be a horse. They were facing away from the door, George’s gray pants stretched over his butt and Toby pretending to whip him. Imogen was perched on Toby’s bed, holding a book and tapping her foot.

  Imogen was the only one who noticed her. She grinned at Elle’s expression. “Oh I think Elle mentioned seven was bedtime and it’s way past.”

  “Don’t be a spoilsport, Imogen. We’re having fun.”

  The whole scene chased away the residual chill she’d felt from the meeting with Dean and his parents. She couldn’t resist seeing George’s reaction when he realized she was there.

  “It’s not as much fun in the morning when someone’s a cranky pants because he hasn’t had enough sleep,” she said.