A dying father’s final wish brings a mystery to life once again...

In the small town of Legacy, Texas, an old man is dying. At his side is the son determined to clear his name. Mac Morrison knows his father was wrongfully imprisoned for murder, and he’s determined to find the real killer. But not before he reunites with a love from his past...

Hailey Green, who’s still grieving her brutally murdered sister, hasn’t seen Mac since he fled town in disgrace. Forced to raise her siblings, Hailey still relies on no one but herself—until the man who killed her sister returns. Turning to each other while seeking answers, Hailey and Mac find their old desires reignited and realize that the only life worth protecting is one together!

“Why?” Mac finally asked in a soft voice. “I’ve missed you. What would be the harm in reconnecting?”

This question so dumbfounded her that Hailey stared, speechless. And then, while she was still trying to formulate a response, he leaned over and kissed her.

It wasn’t a demanding kiss, or a punishing one. The brush of his lips on hers felt soft, welcoming and familiar. And because of that, sensual as hell. When he finally lifted his mouth away, she couldn’t stop shaking.

Of course he noticed. “Are you cold?” he asked, even though she suspected he knew the truth.

“No.” Right then, right now, she knew she should stand up, move away and demand in a forceful voice that he never do such a thing again. But it had been far too long since she’d been touched, and the cold, empty shell of a person she’d become felt like a flower opening to the sun. She wanted more.

* * *

If you’re on Twitter, tell us what you

think of Harlequin Romantic Suspense!

#harlequinromsuspense

Dear Reader,

Some books are more difficult for me to write than others. This book was one of those. I started working on it while still raw from losing my father just two years after losing my mother. Several times while writing it, I had to force myself to face my pain and dig deep. The story, while alternately painful and uplifting, hit close to my heart, and now that the book is finished, I feel it is among my best work. The love shines through.

Previous loves and second chances are my very favorite to write. Throw in a massive need for forgiveness, for understanding and the fact that a very giving woman needs to finally learn it’s all right to reach for her own happiness, and you have part of the reason why this book was so important to me. Raw and emotional, some of it culled from my own recent experiences, I viewed this story as redemption and the true power of love. There’s beauty in sacrifice and joy in love. This particular couple is special to me. I hope you feel the same. I’d love to hear from you and see what you think.

Karen Whiddon

The Texan’s Return

Karen Whiddon

www.millsandboon.co.uk

KAREN WHIDDON started weaving fanciful tales for her younger brothers at the age of eleven. Amid the gorgeous Catskill Mountains, then the majestic Rocky Mountains, she fueled her imagination with the natural beauty surrounding her. Karen now lives in north Texas, writes full-time and volunteers for a boxer dog rescue. She shares her life with her hero of a husband and four to five dogs, depending on if she is fostering. You can email Karen at kwhiddon1@aol.com. Fans can also check out her website, karenwhiddon.com.

MILLS & BOON

Before you start reading, why not sign up?

Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

SIGN ME UP!

Or simply visit

signup.millsandboon.co.uk

Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

To those who take care of others. The caregivers—of the elderly or of children, of spouses or friends. Know that while an often thankless job might seem unappreciated, in the end it truly is.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Chapter 1

The sharp sound of someone knocking on her front door made Hailey Green narrow her eyes. She’d posted a No Soliciting sign years ago, but every once in a while, a very persistent salesperson would pretend not to see it. She supposed they felt somewhat entitled after walking all the way up her long, winding drive.

Still... She put down the whisk, wiped her hands on the front of her faded jeans, and marched to answer the knock. Prepared speech all ready, she flung the door open. And stared, the words dying on her lips. Her heart flip-flopped in her chest, like a caught catfish on the end of a trotline.

Him. Mac Morrison.

“What...” Stunned, she took a step back, in disbelief, in defense, or a combination of both. Once, her younger self had dreamt of this moment. That dream, like all the others, had faded. Every time his face drifted into her thoughts, she’d chased the image away, telling herself after so many years, she had no idea what kind of man Mac had become.

Now she knew. She let her gaze drink him in, too shocked even to attempt to hide her reaction. After a decade away, he was no longer a boy, but a man. And oh, what a man.

He’d filled out, his body finally catching up to his height. Time had hardened the craggy perfection of his face and given him a masculine virility that his younger self had only had a hint of. He’d gotten muscular, too, his bare arms powerful, his broad shoulders filling out his black T-shirt. He wore his thick, dark hair longer, shaggier, but this also just enhanced his appeal. Only the warmth in his gray eyes as he gazed at her hadn’t changed.

“Hi,” he said, his easy smile and husky voice making her catch her breath. “How’ve you been? It’s been a long time, but you still look the same. Even down to the earrings. I’m glad to see you kept them.”

Purely on reflex, she brought her hand up to her ears. The tiny diamond ear studs he’d given her for her sixteenth birthday were in place, just as they always were. She took them off every night and put them on every single morning. They were the only piece of jewelry she wore.

She could have slammed the door and locked it, turned and run down the hall to the bathroom so she could retch up the remains of breakfast. She could have, probably should have, but instead she couldn’t make herself move. One devilish quirk of a smile and all the memories, wants and desires came rushing back as if they were yesterday rather than almost a decade ago.

Mouth dry, she struggled to find the words to make a response. Instead, to her absolute horror, her eyes filled with tears. She would not cry, not in front of him.

“What...” she tried again. “What are you doing here? After all this time.” The harshness of her tone spoke more of her pain rather than anger.

“What, no friendly welcome?” Mockery and regret combined to darken his eyes to slate. “I thought at least that you’d want to catch up with an old friend.”

Friends. They’d been that, once. And more. Much, much more. Not only best friends, but lovers and soul mates. She’d loved him, with all the fervor of a teenage girl. And he’d loved her back, or so she’d believed. Though when he and his family had moved away, under the cloud of shame caused by what Mac’s father had done, he hadn’t even said goodbye. Hailey had never heard from him again.

Not that she’d wanted to. That was what she’d told herself to mitigate the hurt. After all, there’d only been so many things she could grieve at seventeen. Her sister’s murder had been difficult enough. Once upon a time, Hailey had believed in true love, happily-ever-after and fairy tales. That was Before, with a capital B. Before everything had changed and she’d learned monsters really did exist.

“Hailey?” He cocked his head, clearly waiting for her to respond.

The sound of her name on his lips sent a shiver up her spine. Words. She needed to answer him. So she said the first thing that came to mind. “I thought you moved far away. Another state? Up north somewhere.”

“No. Mother and I settled in Huntsville, to be near my dad.”

She couldn’t suppress a shudder.

He continued on as if he hadn’t noticed. “My mother passed away three years ago.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, meaning it. Then, because she had to ask, she did. “And your father?” Holding herself stiffly, she waited for him to say the words that, even now, might set her free.

Swallowing, Mac looked away for the first time since he’d arrived. “He’s been ill. Pancreatic cancer. It’s terminal.”

Heaven help her, she wouldn’t allow herself to feel pity. His father deserved none, that was for sure. Crossing her arms, she settled for a nod. “What are you doing here, Mac?” This time, she softened her tone. “Nothing good can come of dredging up old memories.”

Finally, he appeared uncomfortable. Shifting his weight from foot to foot—sturdy black motorcycle boots, she noticed—he sighed. “I’m home, Hailey. My father and I both. We’ve moved back into the old place on Front Street.”

“They let him out?” Shocked, she didn’t have time to think of the impact her words might have on him. He winced, and she scaled back her outrage, just a little bit. “I’ve been notified every time he’s come up for parole,” she informed him, her voice firm but softer. “I’d know if they were going to release that man.”

“That man is my father.” He rolled one shoulder in that shrug she remembered. “He’s sick, Hailey. Very ill,” he told her, his tone matter-of-fact since he definitely knew he couldn’t ask for her sympathy. “He’s dying, actually. His one wish was to come home and spend his final days in the house he built with his own hands. He needed someone to take care of him when hospice isn’t there, so I came with him.”

Hailey stared. She’d never been cruel, not to him. Even when the accusations had been flying like mud under a galloping horse’s hooves, she hadn’t blamed him for what his father had done. She wouldn’t be cruel now either.

Lips tight, she nodded. “Good luck.”

Before he had time to muster up a reply, she closed the door in his face and, for good measure, clicked the dead bolt into place.

Breathing as hard as if she’d just completed several runs up and down the stairs, she stared at the back of the closed door and tried to adjust to the sudden shift in her reality. As she trembled, she pressed her hand to her midsection, trying to regain her equilibrium.

She had a sneaking suspicion nothing would ever be the same again. Mac had returned. Despite knowing better, her heart had given a spontaneous leap of joy at the sight of him, proving old habits died hard.

Mac Morrison. The only boy she’d ever loved. He was a man now, devastatingly handsome, and even more ruggedly virile. The sight of him still captivated her. Despite everything. He’d come back. Who would have ever believed such a thing could be possible? Stunned, dismayed and confused, she wasn’t sure of herself anymore. The flare of sudden attraction at the sight of him made her feel as if she’d been catapulted into the past, before her entire life—both of their entire lives—had been irrevocably changed. She’d not only lost her sister, but her mother had descended into the depths of alcoholism, her stepfather had left and Hailey had become caregiver to her three younger siblings. For them, she’d had to be strong. For them, she’d buried her grief and sorrow deep inside and worked hard to make sure they’d have the most stable lives she could give them.

Since then, she’d clawed her way back to a semblance of normalcy. She refused to let that be jeopardized because of his return.

Why had he come to see her? Just to let her know he was back in town? Along with the monster he called his father. She supposed she should be glad for the warning. That way, she could make sure she avoided them.

Giving herself a mental shake, she straightened her shoulders, exhaled and turned to make her way back to the kitchen. She’d never liked change, but it sure looked like things were changing. She’d do her damnedest to keep any repercussions from touching her or her brothers and sister.

* * *

Mac Morrison had known his stomach shouldn’t have been twisted in knots because he meant to say hello to his old high school flame. Yet it was. The fact that he’d never forgotten her factored in heavily as one reason, but it could also be due to the possibility that she still hated him.

Did she, after ten long years? Wanting to know the answer was part of the reason he made this unannounced visit.

The other part? He simply wanted to see her. To find out if the years had been kind to her. To hear her speak in that slow, sensual Southern drawl he’d never forgotten. Even if she looked at him with her bright blue eyes full of hate, he thought he could take that. Maybe. Maybe now enough years had passed that he’d no longer feel that sharp stab of betrayal.

Foolish, he knew. But in the aftermath of Hailey’s sister’s murder, he and his family had been part of the fallout. The entire town had been in upheaval. He could have taken that; he could have taken anything. But when Hailey turned against him, that had been the final straw of many.

Now looking back, he could see a bit more clearly. They’d all been in agony. The unspeakable had happened right in the middle of their idyllic little town, and the consequences had been enormous. There’d been so much pain on both sides. So much loss. Surely not the worst, but definitely not the least of all had been their breakup.

If he’d wanted a fresh start, he wasn’t sure this town would be the best place to get it. But he owned the house and farm free and clear. This was what his father wanted, so Mac had come home. Because despite everything, no matter where he’d lived since then, he always considered Legacy, Texas, home.

Once he’d arrived back in the place that had haunted him since leaving, the first thing he’d done after getting settled was ask around in town about Hailey. He figured she might have gotten married by now, have a couple kids of her own. He’d been stunned to learn she hadn’t, even more surprised to find out she’d remained living in her childhood home with her mother and three younger siblings.

Of course he knew he had to head out to Hailey’s place. He’d driven there slowly, the winding, tree-lined roads as familiar as if he’d never left. The thick foliage, glowing in various shades of vibrant green, reminded him how beautiful spring could be in this part of Texas. With the backdrop of a cloudless sky in that particular shade of cornflower blue, the natural beauty lightened his heart. He thought it might be the prettiest thing he’d ever seen, except for the sight of Hailey’s gaze softening as she looked at him.

Once, he’d been certain he and Hailey would end up together. Ever since they’d split, he’d felt a yawning ache in his heart, right where she used be.

As he walked up her sidewalk, still edged in what he swore were the same type of colorful flowers from the previous decade, his heart hammered in his chest. He tried to remember the words he’d rehearsed. They’d all flown out the window at his first glimpse of her tidy little white house, unchanged by time.

Unaccountably nervous, he swallowed hard. Then, before he had time to change his mind, he lifted his fist and rapped on her door. Again, he rehearsed his speech, hoping to sound casual, friendly even.

When she opened the door, annoyance in her sky blue eyes, he swallowed back whatever he’d been about to say. Their gazes met, locked and every single word he’d prepared fled again.

Damn it. He could do nothing but drink her in with his gaze. Hailey looked even better than he remembered—gorgeous, stunning and sexy. If anything, the decade since he’d seen her had ripened her lush beauty, maturing a younger prettiness into a sensual sort of beauty. She still wore her blond hair straight and uncut. Now it came nearly to her slender hips. Even in an old T-shirt and well-worn jeans, she outshone any other woman he’d ever known.

A roiling mix of emotions stampeded through him. Longing, joy and lust, of course. And more. All the memories of the time they shared, all the regret at missing the future he’d planned with her.

One thing he knew with absolute certainty. He’d been gone too long. Way too long. Still standing like a tongue-tied fool on her front porch, he realized another utter truth. He should have come back years ago and tried to right things between them. Even if she had believed the son should suffer for the sins of his father, he could have at least tried.

Perceived sins. Despite what she and everyone else believed, his father, Gus, hadn’t killed Hailey’s sister Brenda. Mac knew his dad. The elder Morrison was a kindhearted man, always helping others. He’d been a good father, a great father, and Mac had looked up to him, even after he’d been tried on trumped-up charges and sent off to prison for a crime he hadn’t committed.

When the prison had called with the news of his dad’s impending release—they’d called it Compassionate Release—due to severe and terminal health issues, Mac had been shocked. He’d immediately hightailed it up to the prison to see for himself. The sight of Gus Morrison, a once stout man, with his bones riding too close to the surface of his loose and paper-thin skin, had hurt.

“Pancreatic cancer,” Gus had rasped. “Stage four and inoperable. I don’t want your pity, son. I just want to go home to die.”

By home, he meant the family home in the town that had castigated him. Since they still owned the house free and clear and were current on the property taxes, Mac saw no reason not to give his father his wish.

So for the first time in a decade, Mac had driven back to east Texas, to the little town of Legacy, north of Mineola.

He’d finally gotten his dad settled in the wreck of a building that had once been the family home. Years of abandonment had taken its toll on the place. Mac had gone in and chased out the rodents, patched up the holes and made sure the electrical and plumbing still worked. By some miracle, they did.

Hospice had brought out the hospital bed and a bedpan, though they only checked in a few times a week. If he wanted round-the-clock care for his father, he’d have to hire a private nurse. For right now, Mac figured he’d do the best he could.

Then, with Gus settled and the hospice nurse visiting, Mac had driven out to attempt to make peace with Hailey. Her decisive reaction had put a quick end to that idea.

What had he expected after all?

Had he honestly thought the passage of time would have magically mended the huge rift between them? Closure, that oft-bandied-about term, clearly wasn’t going to be easy in this situation. In fact, he almost felt like he’d never left.

The thought made him feel uneasy. Determined to do the right thing for his father, he hadn’t thought about what going back would actually mean. After all, Gus hadn’t been around town after his arrest. He hadn’t seen the way the townspeople had reacted to the news of Gus Morrison’s indictment. Or how his wife and son were made scapegoats. Shopkeepers had refused to wait on them, waitresses wouldn’t serve them. Things had gotten so bad they’d had to drive to the next town over to buy groceries and gas.

Small towns could be brutal sometimes. But now that a decade had gone by, Mac hoped things would be different. They sure as hell better be. He wasn’t an uncertain teenager anymore.

Taking a deep breath, he shook his head at his own foolishness. Ten years had passed. People had moved on with their lives. He doubted anyone would even remember him, never mind consider holding him accountable for what they believed his father had done.

While the real killer, the monster who’d attacked Brenda Green and strangled her, had gotten away scot-free.

Though beautiful flowers adorned Hailey’s neat home, his place looked old, beat and barren. With all the major repairs he had to make to get the place livable, he knew he wouldn’t get around to doing anything cosmetic for a good while.

Letting himself into the small house, he followed the scent of bleach mixed with medicine. His father sat up in the bed, valiantly trying to eat while Dolores, the hospice nurse, looked on and quietly encouraged him.

Mac had read volumes on pancreatic cancer. He knew the progression of the disease would make it increasingly difficult for his father to eat.

“Son.” Spying Mac, Gus motioned him over.

Mac pulled up a chair next to the bed. “How’re you feeling, Dad?”

“Like hell.” A ghost of a smile flitted over the older man’s face. Since he’d lost weight, his skin hung loose on too-sharp bones.

Mac’s chest squeezed. “I’m sorry.”

Shaking his head, Gus waved away his words. He glanced at Dolores—a curly-haired older woman with thick eyeglasses—and winked. “Dolores, do you mind taking a break? I want a private word with my son.”

“Of course.” Dolores stood. “I need to stretch my legs anyway. I’ll be outside if you need me.”

Gus waited until the front door had closed behind her. “I need one more favor from you, Mac. I’m sorry, because I swore I wouldn’t ask for more than you’ve already given me. But I can’t die with this stain on our good name.” He took a deep breath, then erupted in a short bout of coughing.

Waiting, Mac had a feeling he knew exactly what his father was about to say. He couldn’t say he blamed him; he’d want the same thing if their positions were reversed.

“Find out who really killed that girl,” Gus finally rasped. “You know I didn’t do it. Clear my name before I pass away. Could you do that for me, son?”

How could he not? Slowly, Mac nodded. He’d actually been expecting this request. Of course, his father had no idea that Mac had been trying to find the real killer without success for ten long years. “Sure,” he said, his chest aching. “I’ll get started immediately.”

It was the first time he’d lied to his father since he’d been a teenager.

* * *

Mac’s return was all Hailey could think about. Though he probably didn’t remember, the anniversary of Brenda’s murder was one day away. At first, they’d marked this date with somber visits to the grave, bearing flowers. They’d done a few interviews, skirting the deep emotions, vocalizing how glad they were that the killing hadn’t continued.

After a few years, they’d begun pretending the day didn’t exist. Hailey had tried to keep up the tradition by taking the kids to visit a sister they didn’t even remember, but June had finally told her tiredly to stop.

Now, Hailey would mark the anniversary with a quiet prayer. June would do her best to stay drunk, beginning the moment she opened her eyes until she passed out, oblivious to both pain and memories. This year, her mother had started early.

Hailey did her usual chores while her mother slept off her drinking binge. At least she’d come home this time. Someone had dropped her off, and she’d staggered into the house right before Hailey got up to begin the day. This was infinitely preferable over getting a call in the middle of the night asking Hailey to pick up June at the Legacy police station. As long as she didn’t drive, the officers remained sympathetic toward her. The woman’s daughter had been murdered after all. No one could blame her for turning to alcohol to drown her sorrows.

Except Hailey did. She understood grieving—heck, she’d grieved over her baby sister’s loss, too. But June had other children. Eli had just turned one when Brenda died and the twins were four. June had let her seventeen-year-old daughter shoulder the responsibility for her entire family. Hailey had needed her to be strong, especially after her stepdad-slash-adoptive father, Aaron—the younger kids’ birth father—had taken off. He’d given both Brenda and Hailey his name, but little else. As far as Hailey knew, he and June had never actually divorced, but he certainly didn’t pay child support or make any effort to see his kids.

Or—and she winced at the thought—if he did sporadically, June drank the money away.

Hailey blinked, realizing she’d been standing near the sink staring blindly, the task at hand forgotten. Seeing Mac again had made her lose track of the present and revisit the past. Since the past couldn’t be changed, Hailey believed in moving forward. She tried not to dwell on things that would make her sad. After all, she had her life to live and enough responsibility for two twenty-seven-year-olds.

Speaking of responsibility, right at this moment it meant boiling noodles to mix with tuna and peas for their dinner tonight. She shook her head at her own foolishness and got back to peeling carrots, cutting them before adding them to the broth.

In a few hours, she’d leave to go pick up Eli from elementary school and then Tom and Tara from middle school. Their mother might or might not wake up to eat supper, but Hailey would take her a plate anyway.

After dinner, Hailey would help her younger siblings with their homework, and later they’d all watch some television. She’d monitor their internet usage, a fact of life that totally irked the fourteen-year-old twins, though not nearly as much as the fact that they still had dial-up since they couldn’t afford broadband, and later tuck them into bed with a kiss.

Despite being their older sister, she did everything her mother should have done but wasn’t capable of.

Again she thought of Mac and his father. Mac had never believed in Gus’s guilt, even when a jury had convicted him. Too bad Mac couldn’t have seen what Brenda’s murder had done to her family. Luckily, Hailey had been strong enough to pick up the pieces. She’d been determined to give her brothers and sister the best, most normal life possible, even if doing so meant sacrificing her own.

Now that the kids had gotten older, Hailey had begun taking an occasional class at the junior college the next town over. She paid for this—and for the kids’ essentials—by operating her own resume business, walking the neighbors’ dogs, cleaning houses during school hours, taking in laundry and ironing, running errands for elderly shut-ins, basically picking up any work she could. She also tried to make sure to get her mother’s disability check before the woman could drink it all away. They weren’t rich by any means, but Hailey made sure the children were fed and clean and, most important, loved.

If she sometimes longed for a life of her own outside of tiny Legacy, Texas, she didn’t allow herself to wallow in self-pity for long. She simply had too much to do.

She didn’t date, unwilling and unable to divide her time any further. Plus, she didn’t need the complications having a boyfriend would bring. Her busy life had settled into a sort of static routine that felt normal and safe.

Except today... Seeing Mac on her doorstep made her feel alive in a way she hadn’t for years. Ten, to be exact. She found this both terrifying and exhilarating.

Of course, she wouldn’t be seeing him again. Just because he’d moved back to Legacy didn’t mean they’d be running into each other all the time. Nothing was going to change.

Maybe if she told herself that often enough, she’d come to actually believe it.

Chapter 2

After a restless night, Mac abandoned any attempt at sleeping and got up with the sun. He showered and dressed, then quietly padded into the kitchen to make coffee and a pan of oatmeal. He fixed his breakfast and ate, leaving the rest of the oatmeal for Gus to have when he woke.

The sound of the television coming on alerted Mac that Gus was up. Gus loved to watch the morning news, a habit he’d no doubt developed while in prison as he’d always been an evening news kind of guy before.

“Are you ready for breakfast?” Mac called. He’d nuke the oatmeal, add raisins, a spoonful of protein powder and milk, and carry it in to his father.

“Mac!” Gus tried to shout, but only succeeded in a loud croak. “Come in here. You’ve got to see this.”

Mac hurried in, just in time to hear the news reporter comment on a teenage girl’s murder that had happened a few hours ago in the tiny east Texas town of Legacy. The reporter informed them excitedly that this was the first murder in ten years, the first since Brenda Green’s body was found in this exact same spot.

Stunned, Mac reeled. Glancing at his father, who wore a grim expression of pain mingled with satisfaction on his wasted face, he looked back at the television.

Ten years to the day. And right after Mac and Gus had come back to town. Then, a combination of relief and horror flooded through him. Relief, because anyone looking at his father could tell instantly he wouldn’t have been able to do it—the man could barely even walk, for pity’s sake—and horror because of the killer’s choice of date and place. Ten long years had passed since the first murder. What would make someone do such a thing to celebrate such a gruesome anniversary? It had to be the original killer. Had to be.

“See?” Gus said quietly, switching off the television once the segment had ended. “You know as well as I do that this has to be the same person who killed Brenda Green. Why else would they kill again at the same location, on the same date? More proof I didn’t do it.”

While Mac agreed, he had to wonder about the timing. Ten long years had passed since a killing. If it had been the same person, what had been the reason for the huge gap? Now Gus had returned to Legacy and immediately another girl got murdered? It sure sounded like someone was trying to set Gus up.

But why? For what reason? It might have worked, too, except whoever it was had no idea how fast the illness had marched through Gus’s body.

“Now you have even more incentive to find out who the real killer is,” Gus continued. “Not just to clear my name, but to make sure no other young girl suffers a horrible fate.” The older man’s eyes glistened.

“I’m sure the police will be working hard to solve the case,” Mac said.

“Right. Like they did ten years ago? No. They didn’t find the right man then, and I doubt they will now.”

Gus swiped his hand across his face and shook his head. “The hell I’ve been through. While I know it’s nothing like what the Greens suffered, knowing everyone believes you’re a monster is its own kind of torture. Not to mention rotting in prison for something I didn’t do.”

Not sure what to say, Mac squeezed his father’s shoulder. “Now how about that breakfast? Or do you need to use the restroom first?”

“Already been.” He sounded like a little kid who’d pulled a fast one. Since he wasn’t supposed to try to walk unassisted, in a way he had.

Mac had already lectured him on this the day before, so he decided to let it pass this time. “Then I guess I need to bring you some food.”

“Okay,” Gus said, grimacing. “To be honest with you, I’m not sure how much I can eat.”

“I made oatmeal. Your favorite. At least you can try.”

“That I can do. I sure wish I could have coffee, though.”

“I’ll make you some decaf.”

After putting everything on a tray, Mac carried it in and placed it in front of his dad. He pulled up a chair next to the bed, figuring he could make conversation while getting a look at how much his dad managed to eat.

To his surprise, Gus ate most of the oatmeal. He drank all the juice and took a few sips of the decaf coffee before proclaiming himself done.

“You did great,” Mac said, pleased.

“Thanks. Now, how about you help me make it to the bathroom? I want to take a shower.”

Mac had installed handrails in the master bedroom shower. Luckily, it was a walk-in, so Gus had no problem getting in or out.

After Gus had showered and dried off, Mac helped him dress and took his arm to lead him back to bed. Gus tired easily these days, and they’d discovered early on it was better to let him stay in the bed rather than a chair. One incident of him sliding down the floor and being unable to get up had proved that.

Settled back against his pillow, Gus proclaimed himself comfortable. Mac asked him if he needed anything. He’d planned to do more repair work on the exterior of the house. Checking on Gus every thirty minutes, of course.

“Sit and talk awhile.” Gus jerked his chin to indicate the chair next to the bed. “I won’t take much of your time.” He grinned as he glanced at the clock. “My game show comes on in ten minutes.”

Smiling back, Mac took a seat. He treasured this time with his father and was grateful to have it. It almost made up for the ten years lost—almost, but not really.

“So tell me, have you seen her yet?” Gus asked.

Even though they both knew who he meant, Mac considered feigning ignorance just to tease. But in the end, he simply nodded. “I have.”

“How is she? Still as pretty?”

Mac sighed. “Even more so. She didn’t really want to talk, to put it mildly. I let her know we were back in town, and that was about it.”

“I’m sorry, son.” Gus reached up and squeezed Mac’s arm. “I know how much you loved her.”

Loved. Past tense. Sometimes Mac wished that’s where his feelings could stay. But to hope such a thing was foolish. One glance at Hailey and he’d known that.

“Still do,” he confessed. “I’m hoping to get a second chance with her.”

“Glad to hear it.” Gus studied him, his gaze sharp as ever. “But don’t just hope. Act. Good things only come to those who work hard to get them.”

Hearing his father repeat the old adage Mac had heard growing up made him grin. “Yes, sir,” he said. “Now I’d better get to work. And you’ve got your game show to watch.”

Nodding, Gus clicked on the TV. Even as the opening music came on, his eyes were already drifting closed.

Getting up and moving quietly away, Mac left him alone to rest. He removed and replaced three back window screens before heading inside to check on his father. He found Gus sound asleep, the television still on.

Next up, Mac wanted to fix a leaky pipe under the sink in the guest bathroom. He spent the next several hours repairing small things, checking them off a long list he’d made.

Come lunchtime, Mac made a couple of sandwiches. He fixed both him and his dad identical plates, chips and a large dill pickle for both of them. After pouring two glasses of iced tea, he carried everything into the living room and loudly cleared his throat.

Startled, Gus opened his eyes and sat up. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing much. Just brought us a little lunch.”

Side by side, they ate. Once again, Gus pleasantly surprised Mac with his appetite. “You’re really eating well today,” Mac told him. He’d noticed some days were better than others.

Gus shrugged. “I’m hungry for some reason.” He covered his mouth with his hand and yawned. “But all this food makes me sleepy.”

“You go ahead and rest.” Gathering up the plates, Mac carried them to the kitchen. “I’ll check on you later.”

Yawning again, Gus nodded. When Mac glanced back on his way to the kitchen, his father was already asleep.

The rest of the day passed quickly. Mac kept busy, tackling all the smaller jobs first before he attempted the bigger ones. He’d gone inside to check on Gus and to fix himself a drink when Trudy Blevins, the lone reporter for the local radio station, showed up at the front door. She rang the bell, which only made a dry buzzing sound. Of course, this was one of the many things Mac needed to repair but hadn’t gotten around to yet.

When he answered, he stepped out on the porch, unwilling to let her inside. She identified herself, and he nodded, deciding not to tell her he remembered her from the time she’d given a talk on career day during his senior year in high school. She hadn’t aged that much since then.

“I guess you heard,” she began, clearly not wanting to waste any time on small talk. “Since the murder sort of coincides with you and your father’s return, I wanted to see if you had any comments you wanted to make. I work for the newspaper, too, and I’ve been receiving calls from some of the larger TV stations in both Dallas and Houston.”

“Are you kidding?” he asked, more out of shock than any real curiosity.

Trudy didn’t even crack a smile. Chewing gum so violently her dangly earrings swayed, she stared at him hard. “Nope.”

Now he was really glad he hadn’t invited her in. “My father is sick. Actually, he’s dying. While he’s not yet completely bedridden, he’s getting to where he can barely walk. It’s a major effort for him to make it to the bathroom. So if you’re out here fishing for some clue that would make you think he did it, you’re barking up the wrong tree.”

“Oh, it wasn’t him I was curious about,” Trudy said. Something in the caustic tone of her voice should have warned him. “It was you. Like father, like son and all that. Continuing the tradition, are ya?”

If she’d been a man, he would have decked her. Instead, hands clenched into fists, he settled for turning around, stepping inside and closing the door in her smug, supercilious face.

“Who was that, son?” His father’s querulous voice trembled with the effort required to speak.

“Somebody selling magazines,” he lied one more time, since there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d have his dad worrying about this while struggling with the process of dying.

* * *

As usual, Hailey had the early evening news on while cooking dinner. The twins were up in their room, supposedly doing homework but probably using their shared cell phone to text friends. Eli had finished his schoolwork and had gone outside to ride his bike. And her mother had not yet roused herself enough to venture out of her bedroom.

Which meant when the news story came on, Hailey heard it alone.

Shock had her frozen as she listened, unable to move. The reporter’s words echoed inside her head, as if everything had slowed down to a crawl. Another. Murdered. Girl. Anniversary of Brenda’s death.

It had happened that morning. Suddenly, Hailey was fiercely glad she hadn’t watched TV or listened to the radio all day.

They showed the dead girl’s picture, culled from Facebook. Slender, her pert nose covered in freckles. Blond hair, blue eyes. She could have been Brenda’s twin.

Pain slammed into her, followed by disbelief. Not again, not again. How was it possible that such an atrocity had been allowed to reoccur after an entire decade had passed?

Finally she sucked in a gasp of air, then another. And then she remembered. Gus Morrison. Mac had brought him back to town. The killer had been freed, and he’d killed again.

Her surroundings spun as she battled to maintain her bearings. Though Mac had claimed his father was sick, the timing was just too awful to be a coincidence. Gus goes to prison and no more killings. Gus is released and bam. Another young girl loses her life. Another family is torn apart.

Feeling physically ill, she reached for the phone. She needed to alert the police, to let them know a monster had returned to their midst. Though they probably already knew, she’d feel better checking, just in case.

As her fingers connected with the receiver, the phone rang. Though she didn’t recognize the number, she answered anyway. “Hello?”

“Hailey? Have you seen the news?”

She would have recognized the voice anywhere. Ice and heat simultaneously coursed through her veins. “Mac.” Her throat closed, making it impossible to say anything else.

“I take it you’ve heard another girl has been murdered.”

This time, she managed to croak a response. “Yes.”

“It’s horrible. I considered calling you this morning, but I figured you needed time to process it. I wanted to let you know, I’m going to talk to the police. I’m hoping they’ll consider reopening the investigation into your sister’s murder.”

Whatever she might have expected him to say, it hadn’t been this. “I don’t understand. Why would they do that? The case was solved. They got a conviction.”

“Don’t you see? If anything, this proves my father didn’t kill Brenda.”

Stunned, she wasn’t sure how to respond. She’d always known Mac believed his father to be innocent. But this...

She replied the only way she could, letting her own emotions show. “Does it? Does it really? Because from where I sit, it’s the opposite. No one was killed while your dad was in prison. He gets out, and immediately there’s another murder. It doesn’t take a police detective to figure that out.”

Silence. Then, he sighed. “He’s not capable of hurting anyone, Hailey. He’s really ill. I promised him I’d try to clear his name. Now that someone else has been killed, the police might be more inclined to look at Brenda’s murder again.”

She felt like she was living a nightmare. “If you get them to reopen the case, then that will stir everything up again. My brothers and sister don’t remember any of this, and June...” She swallowed hard. “June drinks.”

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“No.” Deep breath. And again. “You aren’t. You couldn’t be, since all of this is your fault. I don’t understand why you brought him back here. How can you be so blind?”

“You need to come over and see him. Come see for yourself.”

Clearly, he hadn’t carefully considered his words or how they’d affect her. Or maybe he’d lost his mind. “No, I don’t. I don’t feel the need to ever lay eyes on that man again.”

“He’s dying, Hailey,” Mac repeated, his voice breaking.

She steeled her heart, quashing the rush of pity she felt at his words. “So you say. But as long as he’s still alive, I can’t feel safe. Nor should any other female in this town.” The harshness of her words made her inwardly wince, but she didn’t call them back or apologize. She only spoke the truth, whether or not Mac wanted to hear it.

“That’s why you need to come. See for yourself. You’ll know he’s not well enough to have done this.” He inhaled sharply, making her remember the old way he’d given her warning that she wasn’t going to like what he was about to say. “I’d never have pegged you for a coward, Hailey. Clearly I was wrong.”

He ended the call before she could respond.

Staring at the phone, she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry and throw the damn thing against the wall. Coward.

She fumed all through dinner, his words echoing over and over in his head. He knew, of course, that she’d taken real pride in her courage, her ability to face the greatest challenges head-on. This belief in her own ability had been necessary to help her get through the dark days after Brenda’s death. She’d had no choice but to pull herself together and step into the shoes her mother had vacated. She’d been the glue that held their small family together, with no real adult guidance.

She’d done the best she could. She still did. Every single day. A coward, she was not.

But for Mac—someone she hadn’t seen or talked to since she’d been seventeen—to blatantly try to use this word to compel her to do what he wanted—struck her as pretty low. Lower than low, actually.

Yet she still hadn’t broached the subject of the most recent murder with the kids. So maybe part of her was a coward. She knew she had to tell them, eventually. But they needed to get to enjoy their meal first.

“Are you all right?” Tara, usually completely absorbed with her phone, eyed her. “You seem... Are you mad about something?”

Her twin, Tom, snorted and kept shoveling macaroni and cheese into his mouth. Ever since the previous year when he’d turned thirteen, he could eat as much as all of them put together. Growing boy.

Eli, the youngest at eleven, continued eating, too, though he paused long enough to frown up at her. “Are you getting sick?” He twisted his mouth at her. “At school Jody Peirce said his mom says your boyfriend was back in town.” He cocked his head, eyeing her with open curiosity. Tara and Tom both swung their gaze to her, waiting for her answer.

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” she countered, even though hearing another child had said this to her brother made her fume. “Ya’ll know that. When would I have time to date anyone?”

Eli shrugged. She thought that might be the end of it, but Eli wasn’t done. “Jody said he was your old boyfriend. From back when you were in high school.”

Tom and Tara exchanged looks at this. “Whoa,” Tara said. “Is this that hot guy who was in all your old photo albums?”

“What were you doing snooping through my things?” Best to counterattack rather than give a direct answer. “Those photo albums were locked up.”

“In that beat-up old hope chest in your room.” Scorn dripped from Tara’s voice. “The lock is so old and rusty, a paper clip opened it.”

“Tara Jean...”

“What? I wanted to see what you looked like back when you were young.”

Ouch. That stung.

“And I saw your old boyfriend. So what? I didn’t hurt anything. I put everything back exactly where you left it.”

“That isn’t the point,” Hailey began. Before she could finish, their mother shuffled into the kitchen and headed for the refrigerator. Opening it, she perused the contents. Finally, she grabbed the orange juice and began drinking it, straight from the carton.

Both Hailey and Tara winced.

“Do you want any dinner, Mom?” Hailey asked. “I made tuna casserole with macaroni and cheese and peas.” She made this often because it was one of the best ways she knew to stretch dollars to feed them for a couple of days. Except with the way Tom ate these days, they’d be lucky to have enough to have again tomorrow.

“Not that.” June viewed the casserole dish with scorn. “I’ll just have some cereal.”

Except if she did, there wouldn’t be enough milk for the kids to have breakfast tomorrow. With the ease of habit, Hailey moved to intercept and redirect her. “You need protein, Mom. Tuna has lots of protein.”

Steering June to the empty chair across from Eli, Hailey helped her get settled. Eli shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable. Tom continued devouring his meal, while Tara pretended a sudden interest in her fingernails.

June didn’t appear to notice the silence. She took a second swig of her orange juice. “This would go great with some champagne,” she muttered.

Hailey hurriedly fixed a plate, careful not to put too much food on it. June rarely ate while nursing a hangover. For whatever reason, food seemed to appeal to her only when she’d started drinking. When she had a buzz, as she called it. The kids were used to it; over the years this had become their normal.

Able to remember a time—Before—when her mother hadn’t been like this, Hailey had never grown accustomed to her mother slurping down wine or bourbon or beer—whatever she could get—her eyes growing shiny, her words slurring as she took staggering steps toward the fridge or television, holding on to the wall.

She used to say she drank to dull her agony. These days, she drank because she was addicted, an alcoholic. Hailey wanted to get her help, but she didn’t know how. She also knew her mother had to want help before she could begin the process of changing. June wasn’t there yet. Hailey didn’t know if she’d ever be.

“What’s this about a boyfriend?” June’s gaze sharpened, as she picked the peas out of her casserole. “Hallelujah, if you finally got one. It’s got to have been forever since you got la—”

“Mother.” Firmly, Hailey interrupted. She knew what June had been about to say, but there was no way she wanted any of the kids to hear it. “I don’t have a boyfriend. Not at all.”

Frowning in confusion, June looked from Hailey to Tara and back again. “But I thought I heard...”

“He’s from the past,” Eli put in, no doubt trying to be helpful and completely unaware he was making things worse. “An old high school boyfriend.”

Hearing this, June dropped her fork with a clatter. “What?” Eyes narrowed to slits, she glared at Eli before transferring her focus to Hailey. “You only had one boyfriend in high school that I know of. What are you doing talking to Mac Morrison after what he did to our family?”

Great. Now Hailey felt obligated to defend him. “First up, Mac didn’t do anything to anyone. And second...” Then she closed her mouth, not sure exactly what she could say that wouldn’t cause her mom to vent an explosion of rage or descend into a black hole of self-pity. Either one would be considered a good enough reason to get drunk, as if June needed a reason.

“You were saying?” Arms crossed, chin up and dinner forgotten, June appeared spoiling for a fight. Hailey’s heart ached as she remembered the woman her mother used to be. Though it had been a long time, Hailey had never lost hope of someday getting that woman back.

“Nothing.” Ducking her head, Hailey resorted to a ploy from childhood. “Aren’t you going to eat? You need to get something in your stomach if you want to feel better.”

June glared. Then she shoved her plate away so hard she jostled Eli’s glass, spilling milk all over the table. Eli jumped up and grabbed a paper towel to try to mop it up. “I ain’t eating this slop,” she declared. “And don’t try to change the subject.”

Tom scraped the last bit of macaroni off his plate and mumbled an excuse before fleeing the room. Eli shot Hailey a panicked look. Shifting side to side, he appeared torn between following his brother or staying to support his oldest sister. Meanwhile, Tara made it plain she wasn’t going anywhere. She kicked back in her chair and watched the verbal exchange with interest.

Hailey knew this was her mother’s disease, not hers. At least not the mother she used to be. “I really think you should—”

“No.” June’s tone had the petulance of a small child. Eli finally decided he’d had enough and rushed out of the kitchen without a word.

Watching him go, Hailey sighed. Her mother’s lips tightened, which meant she’d noticed.

“Mother, please.” Trying again, Hailey gingerly moved June’s plate closer to her. “At least try to eat a little.”

“Not until you promise me you won’t go see that Mac Morrison.”

Though Hailey had already decided she wouldn’t, for whatever reason her mother’s dictate made her want to jump in the car and drive over there. He’d called her a coward. She wasn’t. There was no way she could manage all she did and let fear rule her life.

Yet the possibility of seeing Mac’s father terrified her. Because she wasn’t sure what she might do. What if she lost control and let out the primal, long-buried part of her that thirsted for vengeance? She didn’t think she would, but the sad truth was that the possibility would always be there, lurking underneath the polite veneer of manners.

Gus Morrison had not only taken her sister’s life, he’d destroyed Hailey’s, too.

“That man ruined my life,” June continued. “There’s no way I want any daughter of mine hanging around someone like that. Consider our family’s reputation.”

Since this statement so boggled the mind, Hailey wasn’t sure how to respond. Did June not think staggering around town, slurring her words and passing out in bars had any bearing on what people thought of their family?

Once again, Hailey knew better than to comment. She had no plans to escalate anything. Her first consideration always had to be of her brothers and sister.

Her lack of response seemed to have caused June to lose interest—or her train of thought. She dropped back into her chair with a thud, slid her plate over in front of her and took a couple of rapid bites. “You really believed you loved that boy,” she commented, not raising her eyes from her food. “Head over heels. Aaron and I were sure the two of you would be married someday.”

Surprising how that truth could still hurt. Rather than talk about Mac, Hailey changed the subject to her stepfather, Aaron. He’d taken off in the middle of the fallout and chaos after Brenda’s death.

“Do you ever hear from him, Mom?” Hailey asked in a conversational tone. “I know you two never finalized a divorce or anything.”

“Why would we do that?” June’s tone regained its former sharpness. “Someday we might get back together. Stranger things have happened.”

And there you had it. June alternated between a dark sort of reality and some bizarre fantasyland. If Aaron hadn’t reappeared after ten years, Hailey sort of doubted he would.

Of course, Mac had returned. Who knew, maybe her mother was on to something. Now Hailey just had to figure out whether or not to tell her about the most recent murder.

In the end, she decided to stay quiet. The way June carried on, Hailey figured it’d be better if she didn’t know, at least for now. She’d gather the kids upstairs and fill them all in. After they were aware, then and only then would Hailey discuss it with her mother. That way, everyone would be prepared to deal with June’s reaction, whatever that may be.

Chapter 3

Mac hadn’t gotten much sleep the first few nights after bringing his father home. Though his bedroom was down the hall from the living room where they’d placed the hospital bed, every little sound had him getting up to check and make sure his dad was okay. Paranoid, true. But he couldn’t seem to help himself.

While he knew intellectually his father had come home to die, part of him felt as if by being vigilant, he could somehow prevent it. Indefinitely, even.

But after the first week, Mac had relaxed somewhat. Gus seemed stronger, he was eating well and despite his marked lack of energy, he appeared happy. Things seemed to be looking up.

Then another young girl had been murdered. Mac wondered if he’d ever sleep again. In all his life, Gus had only asked two things of him. One, that they come back to Legacy and, two, to find out who’d really killed Brenda Green and by doing so, clear his name. Not only his, but the reputation of their entire family.

Now that another killing had occurred with obvious ties to the first one a decade earlier, Mac imagined the police were in an uproar. They needed to find the killer before anyone else got hurt. In fact, he’d only just had the thought when a police cruiser pulled up in front of the house and stopped. Mac felt his entire body tense.

One day. One day since the murder. He actually was surprised it had taken them this long. Since he’d been expecting this once he’d learned the news, he simply waited on the front porch. Two uniformed cops exited the car and came up the walk toward him.

“Afternoon,” the officer who’d been driving, wearing a dark blue uniform and mirrored sunglasses, greeted him. “Are you Mr. Mac Morrison?”

“I am.” Mac kept his tone cordial. “What can I do for you?”

“We’d like a word with your father, Gus. We understand he received early parole. Is he home?”

“He is. I believe he’s asleep. He’s basically confined to a hospital bed, you know.” Imparting this information as casually as if chatting about the weather, Mac forced a smile. “Come on in. We’ll wake him if we have to.”

Both officers’ boots clomped heavily on the creaky wooden porch as they followed him inside.

In the living room, Mac stepped aside so they could see. The room smelled of medicine and disease. His father slept, a shrunken version of his former hearty self, with his mouth open, and slight gurgling sounds escaped him.

The two policemen exchanged glances. “This is Gus Morrison?”

“Yes. His illness is the reason he was released from prison early.” A rare exception had been made. Timed with the fact that he’d be up for parole, and someone in the prison hierarchy had given Gus his first—and only—break in ten long years.

Officer Number One nodded. “Mr. Morrison?” he said, looking at Gus. “Sir, we’d like to ask you a few questions.”

When Gus continued sleeping, the second officer stepped forward. Loudly clearing his throat, he leaned in. “Sir?”

Startled, Gus jumped and opened his eyes. “Who, what?” When he caught sight of the uniformed policemen, distrust flashed across his face. Mac couldn’t actually blame him. He hadn’t been treated fairly since the day he’d been arrested and charged with a murder he didn’t commit.

Still, a second later Gus regained his composure. “How can I help you fellas?” he asked, his tone cordial.

“We’d like to ask you a few questions. Starting with, can you tell us your whereabouts the night before last?”

Shaking his head, Gus exchanged a glance with Mac before giving the officer a wry smile. “Here. I was right here in this bed. It may have somehow escaped your notice, but I’m terminally ill.”

The two cops looked to Mac for confirmation. “He’s not very mobile at all,” Mac said.

“No disrespect intended, sir, but do you have proof of that?”

Mac crossed to the side table and picked up the thick manila folder containing all of Gus’s medical diagnosis records. Another folder, marked in red, came from the hospice provider. Silently, he passed these over to the first policeman and waited while the other man skimmed the paperwork.

When that man had finished, instead of giving them to his partner, he handed them back to Mac. “My mother died of pancreatic cancer,” he said, his mouth turning down at the corners. “I’m sorry. We didn’t know.”

This despite the fact that any good investigator would have checked the prison records. Everything, from what time Gus got up in the morning, to when he used the bathroom, was detailed there.

“I understand,” Mac lied. “There’s a lot to deal with. May I ask, since you have a new murder to investigate, if anyone is considering reopening the old Brenda Green case?”

At the question, Gus’s tired eyes brightened. Again he tried to sit up as he waited to hear the answer.

“I...um... I’m not sure,” the officer stammered.

“Who’s in charge of this investigation?” Mac pressed. “I want to give him a call and set up a meeting.”

From the perplexed expression on the two men’s faces, clearly they hadn’t been expecting this. “We’re not sure, actually,” the first guy said. “I think the FBI might be helping us out with this one.”

“Good, but someone in your office is running point. I need to know who.”

“Detective Logan,” Officer Number Two finally answered. “And he reports to Lieutenant Gage. Either one of them would be able to help you, though it’d be easier to get an appointment with Logan.”

“Thank you.” Mac looked from one to the other. “Do either of you happen to have a card?”

“No,” Officer Number One muttered. “We don’t. Sorry.”

Mac decided to let it go. “All right then. Is there anything else we can do for you?”

A quick glance at his father showed the elder Morrison struggled to stay awake.

After the two policemen had left, Mac headed off to take a shower. He’d give Detective Logan a call first thing in the morning and check on the possibility of reopening his father’s old case.

The next morning, after showering and preparing breakfast, Mac watched the clock, wondering when would be the best time to call. He and Gus had settled into a comfortable routine.

At nine sharp, Mac made the call while Gus listened. When he asked for Detective Logan, he got voice mail. After leaving his name and number, he pocketed his phone. “Don’t worry, Dad. I’ll keep after them. If I have to go down there, I will.”

The rest of the day, Mac kept himself busy. The old house needed constant repairs, springing a leak here or there, and it seemed he’d no sooner fixed one thing when another needed his attention. Since the work required his hands rather than his mind, he couldn’t help but think of Hailey. He’d let her get away once. Not this time. Somehow, someway, he had to persuade her to give him a second chance. To give them a second chance.

He just didn’t know how. After a lunch break during which he also fixed his father some soup, since the elusive Detective Logan still hadn’t called, Mac phoned again. Once more he got voice mail. He resigned himself to having to make a trip to the police station in the morning. For now, he needed to complete his rewiring of the doorbell. Once he’d finished that, he made a glass of iced tea and planned to sit on the front porch and drink it. He carried it there and grasped the handle to go outside.

The little kid standing on his front porch stepped back in surprise when Mac opened the front door. Towheaded, with freckles and bright blue eyes, he couldn’t have been much older than ten or eleven. A battered blue bicycle leaned against the porch railing.

“Can I help you?” Mac asked, keeping his tone kind.

Nodding, the boy swallowed hard, before meeting Mac’s gaze. “I’m Eli,” he said, holding out his hand. “Eli Green.”

Stunned, Mac shook Eli’s hand. “Hailey’s brother? You were barely walking when I saw you last.”

With more dignity than his age warranted, Eli nodded. “So you are the right guy.”

“The right guy? For what?”

The little guy lifted his chin. “My sister Hailey’s old boyfriend from high school.”

For whatever reason, Eli’s choice of words made Mac smile. “I’m not all that old,” he teased. “But, yes, I was Hailey’s boyfriend back in school.”

Eli nodded solemnly. He eyed Mac, looking him over as if inspecting him. “I need to know what’s wrong with you.”

“Wrong with me?”

“Yes. Our mother doesn’t want Hailey to go anywhere near you.”

That didn’t surprise him. Mac hadn’t been in town long enough to find out the Green family dynamic, but the family had been heavily fractured by Brenda’s murder. The loss of her daughter had damn near destroyed Hailey’s mother, June. She’d turned to solace in the bottle. Mac wondered if she’d managed to make her way out of the depths of despair.

He thought not, since Hailey still lived at her childhood home.

Shaking his head to clear the cobwebs off his thoughts, Mac squatted down in front to Eli. “What’d you come here for, little man?”

“I wanted to check you out for myself.” Again, the kid’s quiet dignity made him seem older than his what—ten? eleven?—years. “Hailey deserves to be happy. She does everything for us and hardly anything for herself.”

Still not sure where Eli was going with this, Mac nodded. “She’s a good person.”

“My other sister Tara showed me and Tom the photo albums. The ones from when Hailey and you were boyfriend and girlfriend. She looked like a different person.”

“Well, it’s been ten years,” Mac pointed out. “We’re all older now.” His legs had started to ache from crouching down, so he stood and walked over to the porch steps and took a seat. Patting a spot next to him, he motioned for Eli to join him.

After the boy had gotten settled, he sighed heavily, sounding more like a middle-aged man than a young kid. “I’m not talking about being older. She looked different because she was happy.” His solemn expression matched his tone. “Poor Hailey. I can’t even think of the last time I saw her laugh like that.”

Concerned, Mac couldn’t help but ask. “She’s not happy now?”

“No.” Sadness colored his young/old voice. “She tries, but she’s not happy. Not like that.”

“What do you mean?” He felt kind of bad, pumping a kid for information about Hailey, but Eli had come to him, not the other way around.

Eli shrugged. “She’s tired a lot. Whenever she’s not taking care of us—and Mom—she works. We’re really poor. She thinks I don’t know, but it’s hard not to, you know? Our mom is an alcoholic.”

Stunned that a kid this young knew such a word so intimately, Mac realized he might not really know Hailey anymore. Not now.

“How old are you?” Mac had to ask, since he couldn’t remember exactly how old Eli had been ten years ago.

The kid’s chin came up, the gesture so like Hailey’s, Mac caught his breath. “I’m eleven. But I see things, too, you know. I might only be eleven, but even I can tell that Hailey needs more.”

“More what?”

When Eli met his gaze, Mac saw wisdom far beyond the boy’s years. “More smiles. More happy times. Tara—that’s my other sister—says after high school, and our other sister’s death, Hailey never got to be young again.”

Mac felt a sharp stab of pain. This kid wasn’t old enough to remember. He didn’t understand the chain of events that had pulled the rug out from under them all. So much pain. The town had become a cesspool. People had taken sides, drawn lines, made enemies. Even time hadn’t been able to heal the old wounds. Coming here made them all fresh and new again. He could only imagine how Hailey felt, still living here, reminded constantly.

“Do you like baseball?” Eli asked, apparently ready to change the subject.

“Sure. What about you?”

“It’s my favorite sport. I’m hoping to get to play Little League someday.”

This seemed slightly odd. From what Mac could remember, T-ball started really young, like four or five years old. From there, the kids played in leagues, all the way up to Little League baseball.

“Where do you play if you’re not in a league?” he asked.

Eli looked down. “Sometimes my brother and I play catch. And in school, we have games. But no one will pick me for their team because I haven’t played Little League.” He shuffled his feet. “I’m not really very good.”

“That stinks,” Mac said, meaning it. “But I bet all you need is some practice. How about you and I hit the ball around? I’ve got time.”

The kid’s head snapped up so fast it’s a wonder he didn’t pop his neck. “When?”

“How about now?”

As he turned to go rummage around for his old baseball equipment, he heard a screech of tires as a car came around the corner. It barreled down his street, a little too fast. He recognized the car. Hailey’s, the same jalopy she’d been driving back in high school.

Eyeing it, he was surprised it still ran. Various creases and dents marred the shape of the body. In the not crumpled areas, the red paint had faded and chipped, and the tires didn’t match. It slowed as it pulled up in front of Mac’s house and slammed on the brakes.

Eli groaned. “Great. I won’t get to play catch.” He swallowed hard. “And I’m also in big trouble.”

Mac didn’t have time to ask him what he meant. The door creaked open, and Hailey burst from the driver’s seat. She hurried up the path, her expression grim and furious. Of course the second Mac saw her, he felt that same instant zing of attraction.

“Eli Green.” 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 little longer?” Eli pleaded. “Mac’s promised to teach me how to hit a baseball. You know I’ve always wanted to play in Little League. If he helps me practice, I might get better at it.”

She swallowed, trying not to let herself feel guilty. Every single year since Eli had been old enough, he’d begged to join Little League. Unfortunately, they barely had enough money to buy food to feed the family. They simply couldn’t afford it, so every year she’d had to tell him no. Undeterred, he’d ask the next year. As if things had changed. She guessed since he was so young, he didn’t understand.

“I can drive him home after,” Mac added quietly. The afternoon sun lit up his dark hair with gold, shadowing his craggy face and reminding her how she’d used to find his raw masculinity beautiful. Despite the tingle in her veins every time she got near him, she needed to make sure all that stayed in the past.

Tears stinging the back of her eyes, she shook her head, steeling herself at Eli’s disappointed look. “Not today. Come on, Eli, let’s get going. I’m sure you have homework you need to do.”

Right about now, June would be staggering into the kitchen, rummaging around for something to eat. Their mother would go on a major binge if she found out about today. Of course, as her addiction to alcohol got steadily worse, June seized the slightest excuse to lose herself in drink.

Eli hesitated, disappointment and resignation plain on his young, freckled face. But he finally got up and went to get his bike.

“Let me help put that in your backseat,” Mac said.

Refusing to look at him, she nodded. Once the bike had been secured and Eli buckled in, she started the car and drove off without even saying goodbye to the man standing on the porch, watching them go.

Chapter 4

What had he expected, a miracle? Mac knew better, but when his father had asked to talk to Hailey, hope had risen in him so fast he nearly drowned in it.

But Hailey had emerged unchanged, at least as far as he could tell. She’d always been stubborn; in the old days he’d found it charming and amusing and often teased her about it.

Bless Eli for giving them this opportunity. Mac had been wracking his brain trying to figure out a way to get Hailey over here to talk to his dad. Now, thanks to one headstrong eleven-year-old, the chance had fallen into his lap. And while he wasn’t sure what his father had said to Hailey, at least he’d gotten the opportunity to say it.

He glanced at his watch. He might as well shower and call it a day. Too late to do much more. This morning he’d gotten started on repairing the roof. Luckily, in the ten years since graduating high school, he’d become a jack-of-all-trades. He’d gone to work for a local custom home builder in Huntsville and had learned a myriad of skills. Everything from carpentry to tile to roofing. In a pinch, he could also do basic electrical and plumbing, too, though he wasn’t licensed or certified. The skills would serve him well while he worked to fix up the old family house.

Since right now, with the need to look after his father, he wasn’t able to work, he knew he’d have to be thrifty. Luckily, he’d been socking away most of his money in the hopes of starting his own construction company. While he still wanted to do this someday, for now it was good to have a backup in a pinch. Most important, he would be there for his father. No amount of money could ever make him regret that. He’d missed out on ten years while his dad was in prison. Damned if he’d miss out on this.

While he took his second shower of the day, he replayed Eli’s words over and over in his mind. Hailey wasn’t happy. The family needed money.

And Mac needed help with his father.

It would be a win-win. He’d get to spend more time with Hailey, she’d get some financial assistance, and maybe she’d even come to accept the truth of his father’s innocence. Especially if he could help the police find the real killer.

And if he was hoping for the moon and the sun and the stars, maybe Hailey could find her way back to loving Mac again.

Feeling more positive than he had in days, he grabbed his phone and made the call. He couldn’t ask her on the phone—this was something he wanted to do in person. But he didn’t want to show up at her house unannounced either.

* * *

“I liked Mac. He was really nice,” Eli enthused on the way home from Mac’s. Either he didn’t understand he shouldn’t have done what he had, or his gushing was meant to hide it.

She shot him a quelling look, but since he bounced up and down in his seat, she doubted he saw it. “Eli, you know you aren’t supposed to go anywhere after school without discussing it with me first.”

His restless movements stilled. “I know,” he said quietly. Then he lifted his chin and met her gaze. “I had to, though. We talked about it, all three of us. I wanted to meet him.”

“Why?”

He looked down, then out the window, anywhere but directly at her. When he spoke again, he spoke in a voice so small she could barely hear him. “I wanted to see if he’d be your boyfriend again. We—Tom, Tara and me—decided that would be a good thing.”

Dumbfounded, she couldn’t figure out their logic. “And why would that be?” she asked.

His sigh sounded much too old for his eleven years. “Because we want you to be happy again. You know, like you were in those pictures from when you were young.”

Any other time, his choice of phrase would have made her smile. She guessed at his age, twenty-seven must seem old. “I am happy,” she told him. “I don’t understand why you’d think I’m not.”

He shrugged. “I dunno.” Which meant he was done trying to explain himself. Either way, she knew just how to fix this mess. She couldn’t have Eli going off to the other side of town and visiting with strangers.

When they pulled into her long drive and parked in front of the garage, she took a deep breath. “Don’t go far,” she ordered, the instant they stopped. With his hand already on the door handle, Eli froze.

“In fact, I want you to go and find your brother and sister. I need to see all three of you in the kitchen. It’s family meeting time.”

Waiting in the kitchen, Hailey saw no sign of her mother. If June had already made her normal afternoon raid for snacks, she saw no sign of it. Usually June would leave open cookie or chip bags scattered around on the counter and table. Despite Hailey’s attempts to get her to eat healthy, they could barely afford junk food. Healthy food was, unfortunately, often way too expensive for their meager budget.

As the kids shuffled in, she noticed them all looking around for signs of June. The relief she saw in their faces mirrored her own, which made her feel sad.

“Sit,” she ordered, pointing at the kitchen table. “We need to talk.”

Eli sat. A moment later the twins did the same.

“Now tell me who thought it would be a good idea to send an eleven-year-old over to a stranger’s house. Especially with everything that’s been going on.”

“I didn’t think he’d really do it,” Tara protested. “It was a dumb idea, and I thought we were all just talking.”

“Uh-huh. But you, Tom.” She speared him with a glance. “You knew, right?”

“No. Not really,” he protested. Then, as she continued to eye him, he swallowed and finally nodded. “As soon as he rode off on his bike, I knew it was the wrong thing to do. That’s why I told you.”

Eli crossed his eyes and stuck his tongue out at his brother. “Tattletale.”

“Enough of that.” Hailey kept her voice sharp, though she wanted to smile. Including Tara in a look, she pulled out a chair. “Now I want to know where you got the idea that I’m not happy.”

Still silent, Tara began studying her hands, ignoring the way both her brothers looked in her direction.

“Tara?” Softening her voice, Hailey reached out and cupped her younger sister’s chin. “Honey? Why do you think I’m unhappy?”

Tara bit her lip as she raised her gaze. “Not unhappy, not really. It’s just...”

“You looked different then,” Eli put in.

“Yeah.” Even Tom had a comment.

“Different how?” Hailey looked from one to the other.

“I don’t know. Just...happier. Brighter, even. Like you glowed.” Having said that, Tara returned her attention back to her fingernails.

Brighter. Happier. In love. Hailey blinked. “I’m fine,” she said firmly. “And while I really appreciate everyone thinking of me, in the future, please, discuss with me any other schemes you might come up with, okay?”

All three of them nodded.

“Good. Now that you understand, wash up and get ready for dinner. After we eat, I want everyone to make sure their homework is done, okay?”

Again, the kids nodded in unison.

For the evening meal she made hamburger meat and pasta again. Not the healthiest choice, but an inexpensive one that all the kids liked. June didn’t put in an appearance at all, so they ate without her. Hailey resisted the urge to go check on her, aware that right now she couldn’t handle finding her mother passed out, drunk.

As a treat, she’d bought ice cream. Once they’d finished, she got each of them a single scoop and watched their young faces light up.

After, everyone brought their homework out to work on at the kitchen table, at Hailey’s insistence. Truth be told, she enjoyed this feeling of togetherness, of family. She only hoped their mother didn’t do something to ruin it.

Her cell phone rang. As she glanced at the number, her heart skipped a beat. Mac. She actually considered not answering, or sending the call to voice mail, but in the end she said hello.

“Would it be all right if I came over?” Mac asked. “I have something important I need to discuss with you.”

Nonplussed, she swallowed. Suddenly, she realized she badly wanted to see him. Not good. “When?”

“Now.”

She glanced over her shoulder at the three avid faces shamelessly attempting to eavesdrop. “Now isn’t a good time.”

“Then how about later? In an hour? I just need a few minutes of your time.”

There were several ways she could answer that. If June saw him, that alone might be enough to set her off and on a two-day bender. And of course the kids, playing at matchmaking, would have reason to think they’d been successful.

Yet despite all this, she realized she craved him, with an intensity so powerful, it hurt.

She had to be strong. Too much was at stake. “I don’t think today is good at all.”

Silence. Then he sighed. “I just need five minutes, Hailey. Five quick minutes. I can meet you somewhere, or come there, or you can stop by here. Please. This is important.”

It must be, for him to push so hard. “Fine,” she said, relenting. “Five minutes. Now. I’ll meet you at the end of my driveway.” That way there was zero chance that June would see him. And the kids, despite their attempts to listen in, wouldn’t be able to watch.

“Give me fifteen minutes to get there,” he said. “And, Hailey?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.” He ended the call.

Dropping her phone into her back pocket, Hailey looked up to find all three of her siblings openly staring at her.

“Well?” Tara demanded, barely able to contain her excitement. “Was that Mac? Do you have a date?”

The quelling look Hailey shot her should have been intimidating. Instead, Tara grinned. “You do, don’t you?”

“Not a date,” she clarified. “A meeting. He says it will take five minutes. He wants to talk to me about something. Probably about Eli showing up over there uninvited and unannounced.”

Eli shook his head. “No, I doubt it’s about me. If he wanted to say something about my visit, he could have done it over the phone. It’s got to be more personal than that if he needs to say it to your face.”

What? Now Hailey stared. How had Eli gotten to be eleven going on thirty? Sometimes he acted older and wiser than both of the fourteen-year-old twins combined.

“You’re right!” Tara jumped up. “He probably wants to ask you out on a date.”

“I doubt that.” Hailey was quick to respond. “And once again, that’s also something he could do over the phone.” She made a show out of checking her watch. “I’d better get going. He’s on his way over here right now.”

“Here?” Tara squeaked. “We get to actually see him, in person?”

Oh, geez. “No. Settle down. I’m meeting him at the end of the driveway. To talk. Alone.” She met each of their gazes. “Got that?”

One by one, each kid slowly nodded. Satisfied, Hailey headed to the bathroom to check her reflection in the mirror. She excused this little bit of vanity, refusing to think about it. Then, with one last warning glare at Tom, Tara and Eli, she headed out to walk down the driveway and meet Mac.

* * *

Unaccountably nervous, Mac made it to her place in record time. He considered himself lucky he hadn’t received a speeding ticket. She wasn’t there yet, which was good. Parking at the end of her driveway, he got out and sat on the tailgate of his truck. Though it had been a different pickup, he and Hailey had spent a lot of time sitting on tailgates. Football parties at school, summer bonfires out near the lake. Then, she’d nestled close to him, fitting so perfectly under his arm. He wished he’d been able to capture those moments somewhere other than his memory.

They’d been perfect for each other. He couldn’t help but believe they were meant to be together. All he needed to do was help Hailey see that.

Waiting, his heartbeat slowed, resuming its normal steady rhythm. The pine trees lining the curving drive formed a picturesque canopy while the setting sun sent golden fingers of light through their branches, dappling the pavement with flecks of gilt.

A moment later, he saw her, strolling down her driveway toward him, and his pulse picked up again. Hailey. Everything else ceased to exist as he focused on her.

She still walked with the loose-limbed saunter, her quiet confidence sexy, though she didn’t realize it. She wore her long blond hair in a ponytail, which swung jauntily with every step she took.

Longing had his entire body clenching. Breathing deeply, he forced himself to relax again, to appear expressionless. Because he knew if he gave away the depths of his need and longing, she’d be frightened.

“All right,” she drawled, by way of greeting. “What was so important that it couldn’t wait for another day?”

He cleared his throat, and then dove right in.

“I need to hire someone to help out with my dad.” His tone matter-of-fact, he held her gaze. “I need to work, at least part-time, and I can’t leave him alone. I was hoping you’d consider it.”

At first she didn’t respond, didn’t say anything, only continued to watch him from those bright blue eyes of hers.

“It’s a paying job,” he offered, deciding not to bother trying to pretend he wanted someone else to do it. “I thought I’d ask you first, since I know you could use the income.”

She looked down and heaved a sigh. “I do need the money, but I don’t think I’d be the right person for the job.”

He hadn’t expected her to decline. “Why not?” he pressed. “You used to want to become a nurse. You might still go to nursing school one day. This would be good practice.”

Hurt and disbelief flashed across her face. “That’s not likely to happen.”

“You’re not too old,” he argued. “In four years you’ll only be thirty-one. That’s not too old.”

“No, it’s not. But you’re forgetting a few things. Eli is only eleven. I can’t leave him alone with Mom. It’ll be a long while before I’d be able to go to school. Assuming I could even afford it, which I can’t.”

His heart hurt for her. All her dreams had been put on hold, her entire life shattered, because some murderous SOB had taken her sister’s life a decade ago.

His dad had paid, too. Paid for something he hadn’t done. So help him, the police had better catch the right person this time.

“I really need the help,” he reiterated. “I can’t be with him twenty-four hours a day.” He was telling the truth. If Hailey wouldn’t do it—and he prayed she would—he’d have to hire a stranger.

“What about hospice?” Hailey asked. “I thought they came out periodically and relieved you.”

“Two or three times a week. That’s not nearly enough.”

She wanted to say no, he could tell. But he knew how badly she needed money. “I’m willing to pay fifteen dollars an hour.” He threw that out there, hoping it would help her make up her mind.

Her sigh told him how much it cost her not to say yes. She tilted her head, considering, which sent a quick flare of hope through him.

“What are the hours? Because I have to take the kids to school in the morning, and pick them up after.”

“We can work around that.” He thought for a second. “Nine to two? That’s five hours a day. Would that be good for you?”

Still considering, she frowned. He could see her doing the math in her head. “That’s seventy-five dollars a day.” Shock rang in her voice. “And if I worked five days a week, that’d be three-hundred seventy-five a week. How could you afford that?”

“If it makes my father’s life easier, it’s worth it.” He meant his words. “And I make much more than that doing my work. But I should warn you, if you’re considering doing it, that it won’t be easy. My father is already very sick. Right now, his pain level is manageable. I’m not sure how long that will be the case.”

Clearly torn, she swallowed hard. “I can’t do any heavy lifting. You’d have to help me with that.”

“I would, of course.”

Again she went silent. He knew that kind of money would go a long way toward putting food on her table. And possibly more.

“Maybe Eli could finally join Little League,” he said. “That extra money might enable you to pay for that.”

“No.” Mouth set in a grim line, her chin came up. “Don’t you bring him into this. I don’t want him getting his hopes up. If I let him do Little League, Tara will want to be a cheerleader. And Tom’s been wanting to join the band and play trumpet. It wouldn’t be fair to give to one and not the others. So, no, the extra money will go to pay the bills and buy groceries.”

Stunned, he nodded, well aware he couldn’t let her see how badly he wanted to offer to pay for them all to do those things. “Sorry. I didn’t think.”

Her shrug was meant to make him feel better. “You’ve never had three kids. I think you learn this kind of stuff through experience.”

It obviously escaped her that she didn’t actually have three kids either. But he supposed in her mind, it was sort of the same thing. She also took care of her mother. Now he was asking her to add one more person.

Still, it was better than scrambling around town looking for odd jobs and part-time work, he thought.

“I’m going to have to refuse. I just don’t think it would work.”

Shocked, he swallowed hard, trying like hell not to let his disappointment show on his face. He hadn’t expected an outright refusal. “Do you mind telling me why?”

Her sideways look told him she thought he shouldn’t have to ask. “Because it’s your father. Because of what he did.”

Her words brought a wave of pain so intense he had to briefly close his eyes. “I could swear to you on a stack of bibles that he’s innocent, and you still wouldn’t believe him, would you?”

“I...I don’t know.” She hesitated. Once, she would have offered an instant confirmation. “But as long as I don’t know for sure, I don’t think I can be around him.”

Damn. “He’s dying, Hailey.” His voice broke. “He’s dying and I love him. That ought to be enough.” He wanted it to be. Oh, how he wanted it to be.

“I don’t know that I can care for the man who killed my sister.” She swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

“He didn’t.” Though he knew his defense would fall on deaf ears, he had to give it a shot. “There was no real evidence. He had an indifferent attorney, and the police just wanted to close the case.”

“Maybe so, but unless reopening the case shows me otherwise, I have no proof he didn’t do it.” She came closer, her earnest expression breaking his heart. “I’m sorry, Mac. If I think of anyone who could do the job, I’ll have them call you.”

He shouldn’t have been so shattered, but he was. And even so, as she turned and walked back the way she’d come, he struggled with the urge to call her back, to ask her to take the weekend and think it over.

Had the rift between them grown so deep that there would never be a way to bridge it?

Once she’d gone out of sight, he climbed into his truck and started the engine. He still needed help. He’d wanted it to be her, but if she wouldn’t do it, he’d have to find somebody else.

And figure out another way to get Hailey to give him a chance.

* * *

All the way back up her long, winding drive, Hailey berated herself. She didn’t have the luxury of turning down work, especially work that paid so much. And this was Mac, who’d once been her everything, asking for her help.

Yet Gus... She considered Mac’s words. What if the truth she’d believed for ten years wasn’t really factual? What if Mac was right, and Gus hadn’t committed the awful murder? Was there any sliver of reality in what Mac said, or had this just been a desperate attempt of a man to reconcile his love for his father with the possibility that Gus might be a monster?

She didn’t know. She wasn’t sure she’d ever know.

As she rounded the last corner and the house came into sight, her heart sank. June sat in the driver’s seat of their one car, vainly trying to start the engine. Instead of a motor coming to life, every time she turned the key there was a clicking sound.

“Hey.” June looked up as Hailey approached. “It’s Friday night and I’m ready to party. But the car won’t start. We either need a new battery or the alternator is gone.”

Hailey winced. She’d just bought groceries and paid the electric bill. She had maybe five dollars left to her name, at least until she found some other work. Maybe she could pick up a shift waitressing in the café. Sometimes Jed Rogers would take pity on her and let her fill in when one of his waitresses called in sick.

Except without a car, how would she get into town to work?

She eyed her mother. “I don’t suppose you have money to get that fixed?”

June started shaking her head before Hailey had even finished speaking. “My check doesn’t come until next week,” she drawled, not sounding the least bit concerned. “I don’t have a dime.”

Except somehow, from somewhere, she managed to come up with enough cash to buy a bottle or two. Hailey had searched numerous times, trying to find out where her mom hid her stash of cash, but so far the location eluded her.

“I don’t either.” Throat tight, Hailey refused to cry. This was the last straw. “I guess we’re going to have to do without a car until we can come up with some money.” Except she knew they couldn’t, not past the weekend. Not only did she take the kids to school, but she picked them up. Eli’s elementary school was close enough that he could ride his bike, but the twins’ middle school was several miles away. She dreaded informing them that they’d need to ride the bus. They’d steadfastly refused every time she’d tried to suggest it, hinting how much money they could save on gas. Apparently to a fourteen-year-old, riding the school bus was the height of dorkiness.

Ah, well. They wouldn’t have a choice if she didn’t have a vehicle.

For the first time, June appeared slightly concerned. After all, how could she hang out at her bar without a way to get there? Then, staring at Hailey, her expression smoothed out, and her frown disappeared. “You’ll figure something out,” she said. “You always do.”

Hailey shook her head and turned to go inside. Even though she was the daughter, she and her mother’s roles had become reversed. Hailey was the one who worried if they had enough food, if she’d be able to clothe the children and keep the electricity and water turned on.

Now this.

There was no way she could turn down Mac’s job offer now. More evidence of a hard truth she’d come to learn at an early age. Sometimes one had to swallow their pride in order to survive.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.