All Roads Lead to Texas. Linda Warren
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The kitchen was a big mess. The cabinets were falling apart and all the appliances had been removed, leaving gaping holes. A large butcher block in the center of the room caught her eye. It was old and had been used a great deal, evident by the cuts in the wood.
Adam opened a cabinet door. “Look, Callie. What is this?’
As Adam said her name, a fleeting look of surprise crossed Wade’s face. But he didn’t question why her son had called her by her given name. A man of tact. She liked that. And against every sane thought in her head, she was beginning to like Wade Montgomery.
Focus. Focus. Focus.
She hurriedly inspected the cabinet. Inside was a tray and a rope that hung down.
“That’s kind of like a dumbwaiter,” Wade told them, standing close to her. Tangy aftershave wafted to her nostrils and she stepped back, feeling a little out of breath.
“The rope is on a pulley and when you pull the rope, it takes that tray to the second floor.”
“Cool,” Brit said. “Let’s try it.”
“I’m not sure it still works.” Wade pulled the rope and the tray traveled upward. “Well, I’ll be damned, it does.”
“Let’s go see where it went.” Brit headed for the stairs with Adam behind her.
“Wait,” Wade shouted. “Let me make sure those stairs are safe.” He turned to Callie. “There’s also a staircase off the kitchen.”
The bare wood steps appeared rickety so they took the big staircase. Wade walked up first and they followed. Callie was glad for some distance. What was wrong with her? She was acting as if she’d never been around a man before. She worked with men and had had her share of dates, so what was making her so aware of this man? This Texas sheriff. That was it. Sheriff. Her sensory antenna should read: avoid at all costs. But the woman in her was getting another signal.
The kids darted off to find the tray and Callie took a moment to get her head straight and look around. Everything was coated with dust and there was a musty smell in the air. There were four bedrooms and another parlor that contained bits and pieces of old furniture. A magnificent claw-foot slipper tub occupied the bathroom. Grime and grit coated the surface. It would take a lot of scrubbing to remove, but it would be lovely to lie in and relax, and she intended to scrub until she had it sparkling. The third floor was an open attic cluttered with more old furniture and junk. They slowly made their way back to the main floor.
The house needed a lot of work, especially the kitchen, but Callie was optimistic about the project ahead of her. This was a good place to live.
A good place to hide.
Now it was time to get rid of the friendly sheriff. The signal this time was very clear.
Adam and Brit were trailing each other from room to room, but Mary Beth was attached to her side. They needed some privacy. She wrapped an arm around Mary Beth and looked at Wade.
“Thank you for showing us here. I really appreciate it, but…”
The phone on his belt rang and he reached for it saying, “Excuse me.” Turning away, he spoke into the receiver. In a second, he turned back. “I’ve got to go. Miranda should be here any minute.”
“Of course. Thank you.”
Callie let out a long breath as he walked out of the house.
“I thought he’d never leave.” Adam sighed.
“Is he gonna arrest us, Callie?” Mary Beth looked up at her.
Not if I can help it.
Callie stroked her hair. “No, baby. Now let’s get settled into our new home.”
“Fred doesn’t like it here,” Mary Beth said, leaning against her.
Adam had set the goldfish bowl on the floor and Fred looked content. At least he was still swimming. Mary Beth always used Fred’s name when she was upset.
“I don’t like it either.” Brit pulled off her hat. “It’s spooky.”
“And the house is dirty,” Adam complained.
To Callie, the house was everything she’d been expecting. To the kids, it was just a strange place. They really wanted to be back in the brownstone with John and Glynis. She had to give them a sense of security. A sense of home.
“Time for a meeting.” Callie sat on the floor and the kids flopped down beside her. “When we talked about this, I told you it would be a hardship. Did you not understand what that meant?”
Brit and Mary Beth had blank looks.
“I just didn’t realize it would be like this.” Adam scowled.
Callie decided to try from another angle. “Let’s look at this like camping out. We’ve done that before.”
“Yes,” Adam mumbled.
“We have a roof over our heads, electricity and running water. There’s two bedrooms downstairs with a bathroom. We can sleep there until I can get started on the renovations. And the beds are so beautiful. We’ll feel like Cinderella sleeping in them.”
“I want to be Cinderella.” Mary Beth brightened.
“I don’t,” Brit said. “I want to be a cowgirl.” She reached for her hat.
“You’re so stupid,” Adam taunted. “You’re going to get us in trouble always asking about horses. We don’t have a horse, stupid, so forget about being a cowgirl.”
“You can’t tell me what…”
All of a sudden everything came down on Callie. She buried her face in her hands and the room became very quiet. The kids were tense and fighting. The house needed so much work. Was she crazy for coming to Texas? There were so many other places she could have gone. Had she made the right choice?
“Callie,” Adam whispered.
She raised her head.
“We’re sorry.” His face was lined with worry.
All three threw themselves at her and she held them tight. “I love you guys. That’s why I’m doing this. I know this isn’t the brownstone or the house in the Hamptons, but this is our home for now. So what’s your decision? Stay or leave?” She was giving them a choice when there really wasn’t one, but she could do no less. They had to be united or it wasn’t going to work.
“I’m staying,” Brit said.
“Me, too,” Mary Beth added.
Adam looked around then stuck up his hand for a high five. “I’m in.”
Callie gave him a high five as did Brit and Mary Beth.
“We’re home.”
“Anybody here?” a voice called from the front door.
They scrambled to their feet and met Miranda Wright, the mayor and the driving force behind the Home Free Program, at the door. She was tall and Callie always felt dwarfed by her height, but Miranda’s warm, outgoing personality took away any awkwardness.
They’d met at the University of Texas, both business majors. The moment Miranda had said she was from Homestead, Callie had felt drawn to her, wanting to know all about the town she was born in. But most of all, she wanted to know about her father.
Not once, though, in all the times they’d talked, had Callie mentioned her father. She recognized that for what it was—a defense mechanism. Her father had signed over his rights to Glynis when Callie was five years old. As a child, she didn’t quite understand what that meant, but as an adult