Jodie had never really gotten to know Emma Connelly. The difference in their ages and circumstances had prevented it. But she knew the older woman was admired in the community for the way she’d handled herself the day her husband died. While on dispatch duty, she’d taken the call from the mortally wounded Dan Connelly, who’d dragged himself back to his patrol car to pass on whispered information about his assailants so they could be apprehended. Then she’d talked steadily to him, encouraging him to hold on until help arrived—only to learn later from Jack that her husband had died with her name on his lips.
“Mrs. Connelly? It’s me, Jodie Parker. Is, ah, Tate In?
“Jodie Parker?” Emma Connelly repeated, surprised.
“Yes.”
A pause followed, then Emma asked, “How are you? I suppose it feels pretty good to be home again.”
“Yes. Yes, it does.”
Another slightly awkward pause, then Emma said, “Tate’s in his office. I’ll put you through.”
The line clicked before Jodie could say thanks. “Sheriff Conne!ly,” Tate said briskly.
Jodie pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “Tate, this is Jodie. I couldn’t wait. Have you found anything yet?”
He took several seconds to reply. “Nothing so far.”
“Nothing at all?” “Nope.”
“But you have stared”
“We’re doing all we can, Jodie.”
Short. Sweet. To the point. It was obvious he didn’t want to talk to her. She felt at a disadvantage for having called him. “Well I guess I should let you go. You’re probably very busy and”
“I’m busy, but not that busy,” he cut in. His voice softened. “I always have time for … constituents.”
She laughed lightly, her heart rate accelerating. “I didn’t vote for you.”
“But you would’ve, wouldn’t you, if you’d been here?”
“Who were you running against?”
“NO one.”
She laughed again.
“So I suppose that makes you a constituent.” He’d never spoken to her like this before—almost flirtatiously. She held the phone closer to her ear. “Did you make any campaign promises?”
“One or two.” “What were they?”
“Well, one was to continue Jack’s”
A voice intruded in the background. Someone hat entered Tate’s office and vas in a rush to be heard.
heard Tate reply, then reply again. A brief time later, i in a tone she now recognized as his official one, he said, “Jodie, I have to go. Somethin’s come up. I’ll try! to give you a call later.”
“That’s fine,” Jodie murmured, and before she got the last word out, he was gone.
Jodie set the phone back in place. She felt bereft at having been cut off from him so abruptly, just when they were on the brink of moving beyond their pasts to . To what exactly? Where did she want this to go?
She stepped out onto the porch and gazed at the courtyard, wishing that she could ride–do something! —to help make the time pass more quickly.
Mae, sitting on the porch of the big house, waved her over.
Jodie didn’t want to talk to anyone. But she couldn’t ignore her great-aunt’s summons.
“You look like you need something to do, Missy,” Mae said bluntly. “And I’ve got just the thing.”
Jodie braced herself. With Mae you never knew. “I’ve just got off the phone with Delores,” Mae continued. “Seems Erin’s been invited to one of those birthday pool parties young kids like so much. She hadn’t told anyone about it because she’s concerned for her mom— doesn’t want to leave her with the baby so close to being born. But the girl’s mom called Christine to find out why Erin couldn’t make it—her daughter was really looking forward to her coming—and that’s when Christine found out. Now Christine wants
Erin to go. Thinks she should have a little fun—you know how serious the gift is. Only there’s no way for her to get there. Dub and Morgan are off tendin’ to a problem at Indian Wells and someone needs to stay with Christine”
“I could take her,” Jodie volunteered, perking up.
Mae immediately shook her head. “Oh, no. You’re not leaving the ranch. Not by yourself.”
“Erin would be with me.”
“Not on the way back. No, I have a better idea. You go sta3/ with Christine and keep her company while Delores takes the girl.”
Jodie needed action, not more sitting. But at least Little Springs was a change from the compound, and Christine was as much a friend as a relation. “All right,” she agreed, “I’ll do it. When?”
“Right now. The party’s already started.”
Jodie nodded and, thinking that would be the end of it, turned to go back to her house to collect her purse.
“I’d say take the Cadillac, but your dad’s got it.
Take one of the trucks, instead. ” ” All right. ” ” And Jodie,”— Jodie turned fully. ” —take care. “
“Don’t worry, Aunt Mae. I will.”
THE SHORT DRIVE to Little Springs gave Jodie a taste of the freedom she craved, enough to make her question how she could have allowed herself to be so at the mercy of other people’s discretion. She longed for the
year she’d spent in EuroI? e. Not having to answer anyone. Not being told what to do or how to think.
Yet her agreement to help Rio had been made because she believed him. She couldn’t conceive him hurting anyone lethally. In particular, not Crystal. The qualms she’d been suffering were due to pressure and worry. But then, why was she worrying so which? Tate would find Joe-Bob, Joe-Bob would straighten everything out, then Rio would be free and she’d be proved correct. Her fingers twisted on the steering wheel. She hoped, t
The new house sitting cater corner to Dub and Delores’s house was of similar design, equally low to the ground and with the same red tile roof. It had been built the year after Morgan and Christine’s wedding.
Jodie pulled the truck to a stop in front and hopped out. Hearing soft laughter from within, she tapped lightly on the door and called, “Hello! It’s me—Jo—die.”
Footsteps hurried from the back of the house—Erin, in a bright red one-piece swimsuit with a white cotton coverup shirt. She looked as if she’d never suffered from the normal gaucheness of a young teenager. She had a natural grace and maturity that belied her tender years.
“Jodie! Hi! Everyone’s on the back porch. Come on through.”
Jodie followed the girl to the back of the house and smiled as she saw Christine ensconced like royalty in a white wicker chair cushioned with colorful pillows. A pitcher of lemonade and a book were close at hand,
and the air around her was cooled by a gently rotating ceiling fan.
“Now that’s the life,” Jodie teased, leaning close to hug her. “I didn’t know that all you had to do was get pregnant to get Such special treatment.”
“Ahh! I don’t feel very special right now,” ChriStine protested. “Mostly I feel huge.”
Delores solicitously fluffed a pillow and repositioned it behind her daughter-in-law’s head. “It won’t be long now,” she assured her. “In a couple of weeks it’ll all be over.”
“Mom,” Erin said, “I really don’t need to do this. I don’t care about pool parties or birthdays. Megan understands I’d rather be here with you.”
Christine folded one hand over her swollen belly and reached for her daughter’s hand with the other. “It’s boring waiting. There’s no reason you can’t go to the party and enjoy yourself. I’ll still be here when you get back. When I had you, I had plenty of warning. And once I got to the hospital, it took another twelve hours before you decided to put in an appearance. Everyone’s going to get tired of twiddling their thumbs!”
Mother and daughter smiled at each other, alike but not alike.
“So go,” Christine urged. “Then come home and tell me all about it.”
Delores spoke up. “Thanks for coming over, Jodie. I won’t be long—an hour at the most.”
“Take all the time you need,” Jodie said.
Delores patted her adopted granddaughter’s ann. “We’d better get you there soon or it’ll all be over. Don’t forget your gift for Megan.”
Erin, nodded, even as her expression remained doubt-fill.
Christine squeezed her Ingers. “Go,” she said softly. This’ Il give Jodie and me a chance to gossip, She can tell me all the things about her trip she didn’t want to mention in front of Mae. “
Everyone laughed, then Delores herded Erin through the house, and within minutes, the car started and pulled away.
Christine wiped perspiration from her brow. “It would help if it wasn’t so darned hot,” She complained.
“Do you want a cool moist cloth for your neck? Aunt Mae swears by them when anyone’s sick in SUm mcr.”
Christine declined and patted the wicker chair next to her. “How about a glass of lemonade?”
Jodie agreed, then settled into a chair. For a time both women were content just to sit in the relative coolness and sip their drinks.
Christine sighed. “As you saw, I practically had to twist Erin’s arm to make her go. She’s so intent on helping me have this baby. It’s almost as if she’s still afraid we won’t stay here. I thought she’d have relaxed by now, that she’d have stopped worrying, but I guess she hasn’t.”
Erin and Christine had lived a hard life before arriving at the ranch. They’d shifted from post to pillar until being taken in by Ira Parker at his home in Houston. Ira was the first person to take an interest in them and to help. Then he’d left them a share in the Parker Ranch.
Jodie had been eighteen at the time, old enough to
see all the layers in what had happened next. Christine’s determination to hold on to that share for the sake of her daughter, the Parkers’ stubborn insistence that only a Pker could inherit. Then the astounding news that Ira Parker was, in fact, Christine’s father. Christine had wanted to leave after the discovery. But Erin, who’d fitted the ranch as if born to it, hadn’t wanted to. She was a Parker through and through, emotionally, as well as legally.
A Parker on Parker land.
The Dame as Jodie.
Yet the sentiment Erin responded to so readily seemed to be missing in her. She was more like Christine than the other Parkers, because Christine hadn’t been raised steeped in her lineage. She’d come to it later, an outsider. An outsider like she herself had always felt.
Jodie wanted to ask Christine if, after all this time, she’d grown into being a Parker. Or did she still feel an invisible divide?
Only, Christine spoke first. “You’re very quiet,” she said, “and you seem tense. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this before. What is it, Jodie? Is there any way I can help?”
Jodie blinked. She lOOked down at her white-knuckled hands clasped tightly in her lap and immediately broke them apart. “Oh, no, it’s nothing,” she lied. She wasn’t about to tell Christine about Rio. Christine might understand more readily than the others, but she didn’t need to hear anything so upsetting. She had enough to think about with the coming baby.
“LsAt something? Or someone? Like Tate?”
tine guessed.
$odie jumped as if she‘0}‘been shot, causing to chuckle. “Good heavens! I’m sorry. I mean—’ ‘
Jodie stood up and paced a little, which she tried to disguise as interest in a blooming plant, then a half-knitted baby sweater that Delores had put aside. is pretty,” she said, nervously fingering the soft pink yarn.
She could feel Christine’s hazel eyes following her. “So it is Tate,” she said softly. “Morgan thought so. He told me you two were”
Christine stopped abruptly. So abruptly Jodie’s head snapped up.
A light film of perspiration had broken out on Chris-title’s forehead and upper lip. But it wasn’t the continuing heat that made her smile with dawning delight.
“What is it?” Jodie whispered, already having a good idea.
Christine winced, held her side, then started to smile’
aga/n. “I think … things are starting to happen.”
Jodie hurried closer. “Are you sure?”
Christine nodded. “But we should wait. Something like this happened over the weekend and it was a false alarm. I wouldn’t want to” — She winced again.
“Do you want me to get Delores back? I can. I’ll call”
Christine struggled to her feet. “Jodie, I’m sorry,” she apologized. “But I think we should get going. Something tells me this isn’t a false alarm, and it’s not
going to be at all like last time. This baby’s anxiou get here! “
Jodie stared at her. She’d been too young w Gwen and Wsley were born, then away at coil when her newest cousins had arrived. She had no perience with childbirth?
“You think we should go?” she murmured blandly. Christine chewed her bottom lip and nodded.
Jodie burst into action. “Do you have a bag pack Do we need to bring anything else?”
Christine motioned as they moved toward the d “My case is in the front hall. We put it there on weekend.” She caught her breath and had to stop ing.
Jodie grabbed the bag and, as soon as Christine able to move again, saw her outside and into the tr “We’re going to make it to the hospital, aren’t w mean, you aren’t…”
“I hope so.”
Jodie groaned as she ran around to the driver’s and jumped in. “We’ll stop by the compound,” said as they started off. “Maybe Dad will have gc back with the Cadillac. It’ll be easier on you than old thing. We can also get some help. i riet … Shannon. And someone should tell Morgan.
“I probably should’ve made-plans to give birth’ but I wanted the hospital in Del Norte, even though it’s small. Erin had a little trouble breathing at firs I didn’t want…”
Christine continued to talk, as if it was comfo to her, and Jodie listened, though most of her cot
trationtwas on the road cad, trying not to hit many bumps or dips. t
They created an uproa? at the compound. All women came running out as the pickup eased to a behind the Cadillac, now parked in front of Mae’ house. One look told everyone what was happening.
Mae, as usual, took charge. “LeRoy,” she said to her nephew, who’d drawn guard duty at the compound, “go find Morgan. Shannon, go call the hospital, alert them and the doctor that Christine’s on her way. Harriet, you go with ‘em. From the looks of things, this is gonna be tight.” Her sharp gaze moved to Jodie. “And you just keep doin’ what you’ve been doing. I’d have your daddy drive, but Lord knows where he is. The man can disappear quicker than a flea on a monkey!”