Texas Tall (The Tylers of Texas 3)

“It’s all right, honey.” Bethel leaned over the bed to gather her daughter in her arms. “It was God’s will, to pay for your sin and bring you back to us. We’re here now. We’ll take care of you.”

* * *

Abner and Bethel had agreed it would be wise to take Vonda and the baby to the hospital. While Bethel got her ready to go, Abner stepped out onto the stoop and called in a pair of his deputies to investigate the fire. He would follow up on his own, later in the day. The blaze at the Tyler place was too well-timed to be an accident. He would bet money there was arson involved, maybe murder as well. And the key to it all could be his late son-in-law.

Abner had never thought much of Ralph Jackson. The boy was short on brains and ambition, and he hadn’t made much effort to keep Vonda happy. But at least, with the Tylers, he’d had a secure job and a place to live. It didn’t make sense that he’d

risk it all by setting fire to the barn.

Maybe somebody else had set the fire and Ralph had caught them in the act. That could be reason enough to get him killed—but that theory would have to wait for the coroner’s report. Abner was no Sherlock Holmes. But along with his experience and the reading he’d done, he knew how crime solving worked. If he could put this case to bed, it would raise his standing with the county government and the voters. Maybe, then, Clay Drummond would stop treating him like a damned stooge.

Bethel was taking her time getting Vonda ready for the hospital trip. Probably a lot of emotion going on. Abner was getting restless, when his gaze fell on Ralph’s old truck. As long as he was here, just standing around, it wouldn’t hurt to check it out.

He pulled a pair of latex gloves from the box he kept in his SUV, tugged them on, and walked over to the truck.

The driver’s-side door was unlocked. No sign of the keys, but Ralph could’ve had them in his pocket. The floor was littered with empty Dos Equis beer cans and Snickers wrappers. Mummified French fries, cookie crumbs, and empty ketchup packets were lodged in the crease below the seat backs.

In the unlocked glove box, Abner found some gas receipts and a yellowed copy of the truck registration. Underneath these was a half-empty pack of condoms. No surprise there. Vonda’s better off without the cheating bastard. But there was nothing here that might link Ralph to the fire in the barn.

Abner was about to climb out of the truck, when he saw that his shoelace was undone. Bending down to tie it, he noticed a crumpled plastic Shop Mart bag stuffed way back under the driver’s seat. It was probably just more trash, but he’d be remiss to leave it.

With some stretching and grunting, he reached it, caught the corner, and gave a pull. He’d expected it to be empty, but the bag had a surprising heft to it. After dragging it free of the seat, he sat up, took a breath, and untied the knotted handles to look inside.

Abner’s stomach lurched. Cold sweat beaded under his uniform. The bag was stuffed with cash—lots of cash, most of it in hundred-dollar bills.

* * *

Lauren sat on a folding chair next to Sky’s hospital bed, listening to the labored sound of his breathing. Lightly sedated, Sky was veiled by a misted oxygen tent. Fluid dripped into an IV tube connected to his wrist. A beeping monitor above the bed tracked his pulse and blood pressure, as well as his oxygen level, which had been fearfully low at first, but was beginning to rise.

She yearned to put her arms around him, or at least hold his gel-bandaged hands. But that, she knew, would only cause him more pain. The doctor had said he would live. Sky was young and strong, he’d told her. His vitals were good, considering what he’d been through. His second-degree burns should heal in a few weeks. But he’d inhaled enough smoke to damage his lungs—that was the real worry. Another minute in that burning barn would have killed him.

She gazed down at the modest diamond engagement ring on her finger—the ring she hadn’t taken off in the three months since Sky had placed it there. She’d accepted his proposal without a moment’s hesitation. But now she had to face reality and ask herself the hard question. Could she really do this—open herself to heartbreak again?

Mike, her first fiancé, had jumped off a bridge and drowned. Her father had died of a heart attack after shooting himself. Now she’d fallen in love with a man who took reckless chances for others, heedless of his own safety.

Lauren had heard how, last spring, Sky had been shot trying to save his worthless young cousin Lute. And in last summer’s wildfire, he’d risked death, refusing to leave the ranch until every last animal was evacuated. This was Sky’s way, throwing himself in the path of deadly danger for the sake of any living creature that needed him.

She needed him, damn it, especially now. But today in that blazing barn, his mind wouldn’t have been on their losing each other. And even if he’d known about the baby, he wouldn’t have been thinking about their unborn child. All his intent had been focused on rescuing his beloved horses.

What would she do the next time something happened? And, ranch life being what it was, there would no doubt be a next time. How could she go on living if she lost him?

Lauren’s agitated fingers toyed with her ring, twisting it, sliding it up past her knuckle, then back into place. I can take it off right now, she told herself. She could leave it on the side table and walk out of his life—move far away from here and never tell him about the baby. She had enough money to go anywhere she wanted. How hard could it be? Sky was the center of her world—but did she love him enough to face the prospect of losing him?

Settling back against the hard chair, she thought about Tori and Will and the forces that had driven them apart. Their divorce had been a bitter one. But Lauren could sense the fierce undercurrent of love that still flowed between them. How would things be different if, that one last time, they’d swallowed their pride and forgiven each other? Would they and their daughter be a happy family now?

What if she couldn’t forgive Sky for the terrible risk he’d taken? What if she were to give up and walk away? Could she live with that decision for the rest of her life?

Rising, she gazed down at the man she loved to the roots of her soul. Sky Fletcher was who he was, and she knew better than to believe he would change, even for her.

Knowing what she knew, could she find the courage to build a future with this man?

With effort he opened his eyes, gazing up at her through the transparent oxygen tent. His cracked lips moved, forming her name.

“Lauren . . .”

She couldn’t hear his voice, but it was enough. Her hand reached out to press his shoulder. “I’m here,” she whispered, knowing it was true. She was his, and she was here to stay.

* * *