She and Phoebe left the hotel together.
“Carrie, have you chosen a team to be on for the team event?” Phoebe asked.
“No. I was actually thinking about sitting out that round.”
“A player with your skills? Not on your life. Be on my team. There are five of us—me, Gretchen, Erica, Kaylyn, and your archenemy, Ethel. I know for sure they would love to have you on our team. We call ourselves ‘The Pistol Packing Mamas.’”
“I’d love to be on your team, but I don’t have any kids.” She’d never allowed herself to even think about starting a family in the past. But now, after Josh and Jacob had told her how much they loved her, she was imagining what it would like to have a child with them, a child she could be a mother to. In the back of her mind she saw her mother’s dark locks. I wish I had more memories of her.
“Being a mother is not a requirement. In fact none of us have children, though my guys and I are trying and I believe so are Erica and Kaylyn.”
“Not Gretchen?” she asked.
Phoebe laughed. “You’ll meet her soon. She’s Ethel’s age. Besides, she’s like a mother to Scott and Eric Knight, and is acting grandmother to their new baby girl. I better say good-bye for now, Carrie, because I may have to shoot you.”
“If I don’t shoot you first.”
Phoebe grinned. “This round is one on one. We’re foes until the buzzer sounds. See you on the battlefield.”
She watched Phoebe run past one of the dragon statues, and then she rushed to the same park bench where she’d seen Ethel earlier.
Smiling, she stretched out on the ground and waited.
* * * *
Willie looked down at his cell’s screen. Trollinger.
He let the call go to voicemail. Again.
Trollinger had called eleven times in the last few hours. He had more important things to do than to explain to her why he hadn’t killed Simmons yet. The fact was, the two men he’d seen with Carrie the day before had been on night watch for the paintball event, not Simmons and his blind sidekick. His information had been wrong about who would be working the shift. No worries. One thing he’d learned a very long time ago, flexibility was crucial to his survival.
He got out of his car and walked to the door of his target’s house. The Simmons business would have to come later.
The old lady and little girl were alone inside. Perfect.
Chapter Nineteen
Standing by the shoreline with all the supplies, Josh helped five-year-old Jake reload his wat
er pistol. “Which color do you want now?” The kids were allowed to use water that was tinted with food coloring, with a warning to their parents that it might stain their clothes.
“Red, please,” the little cowboy said politely. Belle, Sean, and Corey Blue had adopted Jake, as well as Juan. The three of them were doing a wonderful job bringing up the two boys. He was sure they would do the same with their little girl that was on the way.
Jake ran off into the crowd looking like a clown from all the bright spots of food coloring on his white T-shirt, laughing the whole way.
A few feet to his left, Jacob was bent down talking to Daniel, one of the orphan kids from the Boys Ranch.
“You’re leading the games, Daniel. Hurry up and get your gun refilled.”
“I want blue this time, Mr. Jacob. It shows up better.”
Jacob handed the plastic pistol back to the boy. “Here you go. Go get ’em.”
Daniel joined the other drenched children on the beach.
“You tired?” he asked Jacob.
“Some, but I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”