The Texan's Return. Karen Whiddon

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The Texan's Return - Karen Whiddon


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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


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