The Texan's Return. Karen Whiddon
Her crossed arms and stern tone left no room for argument. “What on earth are you doing here?”
“Talking to your friend.” The boy stayed put, his expression defiant. “We were just about to practice baseball.”
“You know better,” she said, directing her comment at both of them.
Biting back a smile, Mac nodded. “I promise you, he’s safe. I could have run him home.”
“I have my bike,” Eli pointed out.
“You’re in so much trouble, young man.” Hailey shot Mac a fierce glare. “You still haven’t explained what you’re doing over here, clear across town.”
“I told you, I—”
“Mac?” His father’s voice, both unsteady and querulous. “Who’s here? What’s happening?”
Hailey froze. She looked torn between jumping in her car and driving off at breakneck speed, and standing in between Eli and the house, as if to protect him.
“Just a second, Dad,” Mac called back. “I’ll be there in a minute. Everything is okay.”
Eli looked at his sister, frozen in place, her eyes wide with shock. Then he glanced at Mac, who tried like hell not to relay tension. “Is your father sick?”
“Yes. Yes, he is. Very sick.”
“Let me go say hi to him.” Before Hailey could protest, Eli bounded up the steps and disappeared into the house.
Hailey cursed. “Now look what you’ve done,” she cried out. Casting him a withering look, she sailed up the steps after her brother, hell-bent on protecting him from the perceived menace lurking inside.
* * *
Hailey stopped short at the sight of the hospital bed. The withered man in it wasn’t recognizable as the larger-than-life Gus Morrison she remembered. Eli stood close to him, chattering away. Too close, she thought, her stomach clenching as she wondered if her baby brother was in danger.
“Eli?” She kept her voice calm, not wanting to alarm her brother or Mac’s dad. Mac had come up behind her, standing between her and the doorway. She wanted to ask him to move since she’d need a clear path if she had to flee. Well, she’d just barrel into him if she had to.
“Just a minute, Hailey,” Eli answered. “Me and Mr. Morrison are talking about baseball.”
She remembered Mac’s father had been a baseball fanatic, just like her baby brother.
“Hailey?” Struggling to rise up on his elbows, Gus failed. He settled back into his spot with a grunt. “Come here, baby girl, and let me have a look at you.”
A shudder skittered up her spine. She couldn’t make herself move, not a step toward him or away.
“Please, don’t hurt him,” Mac murmured in her ear. “Just go over and say hello, then I promise I’ll figure out a way for you and your brother to beat a hasty retreat.”
Retreat. Like a coward. Except he was right. Retreating was all she wanted, with every fiber of her body. She wanted to snatch Eli up and run.
Instead, she found herself taking one step, then two. She stopped when a good three feet separated her from the man in the bed.
Gus’s faded gray eyes, so like Mac’s, searched her face. “You came to see my son?” he asked, hope lightening the raspy exhaustion in his voice.
Heaven help her, she didn’t have the heart to disappoint him. Why? Why was that? This man had all but destroyed everything important to her.
Instead of outright denial, she settled on the truth. “I came to get my little brother Eli. His other brother told me where he’d gone.”
“Tom?” Eli squeaked, shocked and hurt all at once. “He promised he wouldn’t tell.”
“Well, maybe he realized he needed to,” she retorted back. She held out her hand for him to take, aware the second their fingers connected, they’d beat a fast track to the door.
Meeting her gaze, Eli slowly shook his head. He cut his eyes toward the man in the bed. “I’m not finished yet.”
“It’s okay.” Gus sighed, clearly exhausted from even this brief interaction. “You go ahead and go. I’m sure I’ll see you again.”
Not if she could help it.
Opening his eyes again, Gus pinned her with his gaze. “But first, I’d like a word with you in private.”
While she searched for a way to decline without alerting Eli to the fact that something was wrong, Mac grabbed Eli’s hand and tugged him toward the door. “We’ll be just outside on the front porch,” he said. “Take all the time you need.” When he caught Hailey’s eye, she saw the entreaty there, the plea to remember this was his father and he was dying.
She knew that. What she couldn’t forget was that this man had murdered her sister and destroyed everything she held dear.
Swallowing hard, she steeled herself to get through the next minute.
“Thank you for coming to see me,” Gus said, once everyone else had gone. “It means a lot to me, considering how you once believed the unthinkable. I hate that this happened again to another girl, but at least that forces people to see the truth. I can at least die happy knowing that you know I didn’t kill your sister.”
Throat tight, she stared. She could picture June’s reaction here, something incoherently vindictive or violent or both. She felt a bit like she was letting her mother down, but for whatever reason she couldn’t bring herself to do anything more than listen.
Apparently taking her silence for acquiescence, Gus continued. “Mac has promised to get the case reopened. Now that the police know someone else killed this latest girl, they should be willing to take a look at Brenda’s murder, too. It’s about time the real murderer is brought to justice. I’m hoping he can clear my name before I die.”
Two things struck her. One, Gus’s father truly believed what he said. And two, was it possible he had a point? All along, he’d maintained his innocence, claiming the police were railroading him into a conviction, with trumped-up evidence and no real proof.
If this was true—and she wasn’t certain it was—Gus Morrison had spent ten years in prison for a crime he hadn’t committed. What a bitter pill to swallow if that was the case. To have been robbed of ten years of your now-too-short life for nothing.
“He missed you, you know,” Gus continued on, the raspy thread of his voice wearing thin.
This comment startled her, making her blink. “Who?” she asked, even though she knew.
“Mac. He never forgot you. I think he might still carry a torch for you.” Gus’s eyes drifted closed again. “If everything works out, please take care of my son after I’m gone. He won’t have anyone else.”
Since she couldn’t in a million years agree to a promise like that, she stood silently, staring down at the man who for the past decade she’d regarded as a monster. What if he was telling the truth? What if—and this might be a huge stretch—he wasn’t actually the one who’d killed Brenda and torn two families and an entire town apart?
Even as she had this thought, she clenched her jaw and shook her head. Enough of this foolishness. Mac and Gus returning to Legacy had done nothing but dredge up the past. Their presence had brought pain and uncertainty right back to the surface.
Gus’s eyes drifted closed. Even though she hadn’t responded, she took this as her cue to exit. Moving noiselessly, she went to the door. Outside, Mac and Eli sat on the top step of the porch. They both looked up as she approached.
“Ready to go?” she asked her brother, keeping her tone light and avoiding Mac’s gaze.
“Can’t I stay a