Читать книгу The Lawman Returns - Lynette Eason - Страница 13

FOUR

Clay recoiled as though his uncle had slugged him. He’d heard the sad story his entire life, but he hadn’t realized Abe still harbored such strong bitterness. He’d been gone too long.

His mother sucked in a deep breath. “Not here, Abe.”

“Then where, Julie?” Abe glared at his sister-in-law.

Tony’s and Maria’s gazes swung from one adult to the next. Sabrina stepped forward and placed a hand on Maria’s head. “I think I’ll go.” She sounded shaky. Unsure. Confused. But Clay knew she wouldn’t say anything or ask questions in front of the children.

He shot a look at his mother, who quickly gathered the two children and two plates of food and ushered them out of the kitchen and down the hall. Thankfully, they went without protest.

Clay stared at his uncle. “This isn’t the time or the place. Let the past stay in the past.”

Abe pointed at Sabrina. “You knew who she was and you brought her here?”

Clay tried to put a lid on his impatience. “Yes, of course. She didn’t have anything to do with what her mother did. It’s time to let it go, Abe.”

Clay thought he detected a bit of steam leaking from his uncle’s ears, but he was sick and tired of the whole “feud,” the animosity and antagonism displayed toward Sabrina and her grandmother—two innocent women.

Clay’s attention circled back to Sabrina.

She stood frozen, lips tight, face pale. She stiffened her spine and squared her shoulders. “I haven’t seen my mother in about twenty years. I don’t know where she is or if she’s even still alive.” She glanced toward the door where the children had disappeared, then looked at his uncle Abe. “I’m sorry for what she put you through.”

“Sorry? Sorry about the fact that your mama and I were engaged to be married and she never showed up?” He snorted and gave a humorless laugh. “Or sorry about the fact that she did show up about two years late?” He slammed a fist into the wall. Clay winced and Sabrina jumped. “It wasn’t enough she left me at the altar, but then she humiliates me by coming back to town with a baby in tow. A baby that’s obviously not mine.”

“Me,” she whispered.

“Yeah. You. So you can see why you’re not welcome in this house.”

“But I’m not my mother.” She straightened her back and met Abe glare for glare.

“Close enough.”

Sabrina flinched. “I’ve worked very hard to prove myself in this town. I’m not her. I’ll never be her.”

Clay stepped in. “That’s enough, Abe. Sabrina’s never done anything to you. Knock it off.”

“You stay out of it if you know what’s good for you, boy.” Abe curled his lip. “Looks like you’re making all kinds of bad decisions these days. You can’t come home to help your brother out, but you can take up with the likes of her? Not while I’ve got breath in my body. You won’t do this to the family.” He shot Sabrina one last bitter look, walked to the kitchen door that led to the outside and slammed it behind him.

Silence reigned in the bright kitchen. Clay looked at his father and his father looked at him.

“What did Abe mean by that?” his dad asked.

“By what?”

“About you not being willing to come home and help Steven with whatever he was working on.”

Clay sighed. “I’ll have to explain that later.” He turned to Sabrina, who stared at the wall. The stunned expression on her face broke his heart. “I didn’t realize he would be here or I wouldn’t have brought you. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for. I messed up. I should have done things different. I should have called.” She looked surprised at her own admission.

He shook his head. “Come on. I’ll see you get home.”

She blinked and pulled in a deep breath. “I want to say good night to the children, if that’s all right. I don’t want to be another adult in their lives who just disappears.”

Clay nodded. “Of course.” He was amazed. His uncle had just been about as rude as a person could be, and she still had the children at the forefront of her mind.

He led her to the back of the house, where he found his mother sitting on the side of the bed with the children tucked into the queen bed in the guest room. She looked up when they peered in. Worry lines creased her forehead and her mouth. Her eyes met his in question. He forced a smile. “How’s everything in here?”

“They each have a room if they want it, but they wanted to stay together tonight.”

Sabrina nodded. “That’s understandable for now.” She hugged the children, promising to visit soon.

Clay gathered the empty dishes. “I’ll put these in the kitchen on the way out.”

His mother’s hand captured Sabrina’s. “You’re welcome here anytime, my dear.”

Sabrina bit her lip and nodded. “Thank you.”

They walked from the room, and Sabrina seemed to be moving on autopilot. He saw his uncle’s rifle still leaning against the wall. He snagged it. Outside, he saw her shiver and tug her heavy coat tighter. She nodded at the weapon. “What are you going to do with that?”

“Give it back to him when I have a serious talk with him.” He touched her arm. “Are you all right?”

“Not really. I knew the story, of course. That she’d left Abe Starke at the altar. But even in a small town, it’s possible to avoid someone. I’ve never spoken to your uncle until tonight. I’ve seen him in town, but not often.”

“He’s pretty much a hermit. His ranch borders my parents’. He and my dad help each other out whenever they need it. Uncle Abe hates going into town and only does so for the occasional doctor’s appointment or to get supplies.”

“I’m so sorry she hurt him like that.” She sniffed and swiped a tear. “The kids certainly teased me enough about it when I was younger that I built him up to be a monster. Today I realized he’s not a monster, just a very bitter, angry man.”

“He’s been that way all my life.” He paused, then asked, “Why would the kids tease you about it? How would they even know who your mother was?”

She eyed him as if he’d lost his mind. “You’ve been gone a long time from here, haven’t you?”

Clay shifted, uneasy. “Yeah, a little over ten years.”

“Surely ten years couldn’t wipe out your knowledge of how small towns operate.”

He felt a flush creep into his neck. “I guess the people your mother went to school with kept the stories alive.”

“You got it in one. Nothing else to talk about around here, I guess. They warned their kids about me, told them not to associate with the daughter of a—well, I’ll let you fill in the blank. Needless to say, it wasn’t a good time for me.”

He nodded and scuffed a toe against the ground. “I remember hearing stuff, of course, but you were six years behind me. I really didn’t pay that much attention.” And he’d been dealing with his own problems. “Who’s your father, Sabrina?”

She barked a harsh, short laugh. “Don’t worry—it’s not your uncle.”

He grimaced. That hadn’t been what he meant. At least he didn’t think so. “Then who?”

She sighed, ran her hand down her face, then looked up at the sky. “Someone she met after she was engaged. Apparently, she chickened out of telling your uncle she didn’t want to marry him and chose to leave town the morning of the wedding. She later told my grandmother that she was afraid of Abe, of his hair-trigger temper. She was too scared to tell your uncle she didn’t want to get married, so she just ran. I guess she met my father shortly after that and got pregnant with me. My grandmother won’t talk about my father much, just that he died in a car wreck when I was about a year old. My mother tried to make it on her own, but she couldn’t, so she came back to Wrangler’s Corner. With me in tow.”

“Where she became the talk of the town.”

“Well, she didn’t exactly have a sterling reputation before she pulled the leaving-your-uncle-at-the-altar stunt. But she didn’t help things when she came back. She got into drugs, attached herself to any man who would spend money on her and landed in jail more times than I can remember.” She swallowed hard. “And she ruined any chance of a happy childhood for me.”

* * *

Sabrina clenched her jaw against the flood of memories. The bullying, the cruel teasing by the other children. She knew they were simply mimicking their parents, but it still hurt. Her grandmother had done her best to shelter her, but she’d never lived down her mother’s reputation Not everyone had been so awful, of course, but there had been enough of them to leave permanent scars.

And now she knew why her grandmother had been as antsy as a cat in a roomful of rocking chairs whenever Sabrina mentioned spending time with Steven Starke. She was afraid people would talk and all the gossip would rev up again. Sabrina found herself cringing at the thought. “I want to go home.” She climbed in her car and started the engine.

Clay tapped on her window and with a sigh, she pressed the button to lower it.

He leaned toward her. “I’m going to follow you, make sure you get there safely.”

“That’s not necessary. It’s a fifteen-minute ride into town, and then you’ll just have to come back.”

“I’m following you.”

She studied the determination in his eyes, the stubborn set to his jaw. She warmed under his gaze. He cared. Or at least she thought he did. “Fine.”

He hefted the rifle. “Just let me walk over to my house and lock this up. Then we can go.” He started to walk away, then turned back. “One more question.”

She lifted an eyebrow.

“Will you get something to eat with me?”

Sabrina blew out a small breath that was a cross between a sigh and a tired laugh. His uncle’s ugly words were still there, but they didn’t sting as much right now. “Sure.” Why not? She was hungry.

He looked around. “I’d say let’s just eat here, but I don’t know where my uncle went or if he’s coming back, and I’d just as soon not be here if he does.”

“I get it.” Sabrina backed out and waited for Clay to put the rifle away, climb into his cruiser and pull in behind her. She led the way from the ranch, out of the valley and onto the road that would take them into town. As she drove, her mind spun.

Abe Starke had been the man her mother had left at the altar. Of course she knew that. It was one reason she avoided the man if at all possible, making sure their paths never crossed. If she saw him in town, she went the other way. Tonight had been the first time she and Abe had ever exchanged words. She sighed.

For the most part, all Sabrina had ever cared about was staying out of the way of the bullies and the gossips, doing her best to close her ears—and her heart—to what people said. And her grandmother never talked about it.

She pushed the topic from her mind to think about another subject that was almost just as painful. Steven Starke.

She pulled into the parking lot of the bed-and-breakfast, the home she shared with her grandmother. Clay drove three doors down across the street to park in front of the diner. She smiled at his good fortune. Parking was often hard to find on Main Street, so she didn’t bother to try. She had to come back to the bed-and-breakfast after she was finished eating anyway. Sabrina crossed the street and hit the sidewalk that led down to the front of the diner.

Clay got out of his car as she approached. “I want to talk to you about Steven,” he said. “I didn’t realize you two knew each other.”

She’d figured that might be something he’d bring up. So the topic of her mother and his uncle was shelved for now. She was glad about that. Not so glad that he was asking about Steven. “He was a good cop and a good friend. He talked about you a lot.” She smiled. “He was proud of you and your big detective job in Nashville.”

He flushed, and his eyes turned red. He blinked. “Were you at his funeral?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“I didn’t see you.”

“And I didn’t see you.” The church had been packed. She felt her own tears try to surface and fought them as she did every time she thought about Steven. “I was at the back, near the door.” She walked to the glass door of the diner, trying to get her emotions under control. Clay came up behind her to open the door for her. She stepped into the warmth and pulled her hands from her coat pocket.

“Sabrina, honey, how are you?”

Sabrina had to smile. “I’m fine, Daisy Ann.” Daisy Ann Anderson was one of Sabrina’s favorite people. Married to Sheriff Ned Anderson and mother to Lily, Daisy Ann had been running the diner since before Sabrina had been born. In her mid-fifties, she was slim and trim and carried herself with the poise of a model. She was also one who didn’t judge Sabrina based on her mother’s past. “I just saw Lily at the hospital.”

Daisy Ann’s lips tightened. “She’s had some horrific hours lately. Girl is working too much.”

“And with her back bothering her so much. Poor thing. I’ll be praying for her.”

“You do that, honey. Lord knows she needs the prayers.” Sorrow glinted. Then her eyes widened when they landed on Clay. “Well, I heard you’d come back to town. I wondered when you’d find your way in here.”

Clay gave the woman a hug. “Hi, Mrs. J.” He looked around. “Kinda slow tonight?”

Daisy Ann’s face shuttered. “It’s slow most nights these days.” Sabrina winced. She knew the diner had taken a hit with the recent loss of jobs when the textile plant two towns over closed. People weren’t eating out so much in Wrangler’s Corner. “Y’all just take a seat. I’ll bring coffee.”

Sabrina led Clay to a corner booth where she could see the door. The diner wasn’t completely empty, but it was far from booming. “I don’t know how she stays open, Clay.”

“It’s a shame. This place is a landmark.”

“I know. I eat here every chance I get.”

Daisy Ann had only one other waitress working and soon Sabrina and Clay clasped two mugs of decaf coffee, his with cream and sugar and hers black. “I heard your parents are still doing the barbecue,” Daisy Ann said.

“Yes, there wasn’t any question in their minds. They do it every year and figured Steven would insist on it,” Clay said.

Grief flickered in her eyes and she blinked back tears. “He did like his barbecue.”

“This year will be a hard one. I expect Mom to cry through the whole thing, but she’ll do it.” He studied her. “All the guys at the station are talking about turning it into a memorial to Steven. There’s even talk about some of the wives putting together an auction to raise money for families of officers killed in the line of duty.”

“That would be wonderful. Steven would be proud.” Daisy Ann patted his shoulder and headed back toward the kitchen.

Clay looked at Sabrina. “What are you thinking?”

“That I messed up and I don’t know what to do about it. I don’t make mistakes like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like not calling ahead and telling your parents who I was. Like not waiting on the police to arrive before I decided to go in the trailer. Like—”

“You weren’t thinking of yourself when you did those things. That’s not messing up—that’s putting others first.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it. Opened it again. And shut it again.

“What? I’ve rendered you speechless?”

“Yes. A bit.” She relaxed a fraction. “But you’ve definitely given me something to think about. I’ve worked so hard to have a good reputation in this town. I don’t want to do anything to blow it.”

“Your reputation matters so much?”

She frowned. “Of course.”

“As long as you’re doing the right thing, what does it matter what other people think?”

She cleared her throat. “I know that’s the way it should work, but with my mother’s past and the way people still look at me sometimes—as though just waiting for me to prove I’m like her...” She lifted a shoulder in a slight shrug. “It just matters, okay?”

“Fair enough.” Clay fingered the saltshaker, then set it down with a thump. “Do you have any idea at all who killed Steven?”

She leaned back, and her frown deepened. She felt the tension returning to her shoulders. “No. Don’t you think if I knew something I would have told someone by now?”

“Of course. Of course.” He raked a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. It was a dumb question.”

“Yes. It was.” Sabrina paused. She stared at her coffee. “Steven was my friend, too.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

She waved a hand. “I’m tired and feeling a little defensive tonight. I don’t know who killed him. I truly don’t have any idea. His death stunned me. I will say I think your first place to start is with Stan Prescott and Steven’s wallet, but...”

“But what?”

“There may be something else.” She sighed. “I spoke to Steven the day before he died.”

Clay tensed and leaned forward, his gaze boring into her as though he could see inside her head to grab her thoughts. “What did he say?”

“It wasn’t really what he said—it was more what I told him.”

“Which was?”

She stared at him. Did she dare tell him one of her deepest fears?

Clay leaned in. “Just say it, Sabrina.”

“I think—” She paused. “I think I may have sent your brother to his death.”