change in T.J. in a little over a week was a welcome surprise. He had clearly bonded not only with Joe, but with Sara. She hoped that friendship would help the young girl come out of her shell and talk about her problems. The Hopechest Ranch policy was not to press for details, but offer refuge. She knew, however, that she did the most good when the children were finally able to talk about their traumas.
Maybe Sara’s friendship with T.J. and Joe would help her trust them enough to share and begin the road to healing.
Much as T.J. seemed to be healing.
In addition to the bonding, T.J. and Joe had completed each and every task that had been asked of them at the ranch and eagerly helped out with the other kids during their free time. Because of his exemplary behavior, when T.J. had asked if he could go to town with Joe and Sara, she had unequivo-cally said “Yes.”
Which meant she had time to just unwind. Rare time in her normally hectic life.
She had filled her big claw-footed tub with steaming hot water and added some fragrant rose oils that Jewel had given her as an engagement gift. She had attempted to return them after she cancelled the wedding, but Jewel had insisted she keep them so she could treat herself.
Treat herself she would, she thought, tying the lush terry cloth robe around herself and pouring a glass of wine to take with her to the bath. On the way, she snagged her brand-new romance novel from the nightstand in her bedroom.
Tim had always teased her about her romances until she had insisted he read them to her at night before bed.
He had never complained again after that, she thought with a smile as she set the book and wine on the painted wrought iron caddy. It perfectly matched the Victorian look of her bathroom, her one touch of fanciful in her otherwise modest and plain home.
She might have taken the Victorian theme further in the house, but realized it might have made it a little too girly for T.J. and had refrained from doing so. But in here and her bedroom—her private domain—she let herself give into her fantasies.
She slipped into the tub and the heat of the water immediately began to soak away some of the aches and tiredness. She loved working at the ranch, but with half a dozen children and the two teen boys, it was always a whirlwind of activities and quite physical.
The activities, however, were clearly making progress with some of the children. In the months she had been at the ranch, she had seen noticeable improvements not only in their academic skills, but their social ones. Kids who had once been loners were finally coming out of their shells.
It was what made her career so rewarding.
Grabbing the book off the caddy, she cracked it open and began to read, only she hadn’t realized it was a book with a hero in the military. It normally didn’t bother her, but her emotions were too unsettled with Fisher in town and so she set the book aside and picked up her wineglass.
As she took a sip, she recalled the sight of him and Jericho standing outside the church. Jericho had been so handsome in his tuxedo, but it had been Fisher standing there in his Army uniform, medals gleaming in the sun, that had caused her heart to skip a beat.
Even if she hadn’t had any doubts about her marriage to Jericho before then, that reaction alone would have made her realize she was making a big mistake.
No matter how much she tried to forget it, her one and only night with Fisher had left an indelible memory. One she had driven deep inside her heart when she had made the decision to marry Tim Ward.
The right decision, she reminded herself as she took a small sip of the wine.
She and Tim had been destined to be together, their short breakup in high school notwithstanding. Tim was kind and patient and honorable. When she had told him she was pregnant just a short time before their wedding, he had been understanding and had even talked to her about telling Fisher.
She had considered it back then and in the many years since. But Jericho had been going on and on about how happy Fisher was in the Army and since their night together, Fisher never approached her again.
Talk had been that Fisher was the kind of man who couldn’t commit and back then she felt he had loved and left her. When she had heard about his enlistment in the Army, it had made no sense to ruin his life by telling him about a child he probably wouldn’t want.
But then she recalled the way he had looked at her on the steps of the church. Imagined she had seen desire in his gaze along with hurt. Not that she could hurt him unless he actually had feelings for her. Something which she didn’t want to consider because it would complicate things.
Forcing her mind from such troubling thoughts, she placed her nearly untouched glass of wine on the caddy and sank farther into the bone-melting heat of the water. The fragrance of roses wafted around her, reminding her of the profusion of wild rose bushes tangled amongst the small stands of trees just outside the Esperanza town limits.
Reminding her of how the night had smelled while she made love with Fisher.
She shot upright in the bath, mumbling a curse, but then the phone rang and she mumbled yet another curse.
She had left the portable phone in her room.
As it continued to ring, demanding her attention, she climbed out of the bath, grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her. She raced to her bedroom to pick up before the answering machine kicked in.
Unfortunately, the answering machine engaged just as she reached it and heard across the speaker, “Mrs. Ward. This is Deputy Rawlings.”
Her stomach dropped at the identity of the caller. At his next words, sadness and disappointment filled her soul. “I’ve got your son down at the station.”
T.J. walked out of the sheriff’s office beside her, his body ramrod straight and stiff with tension. He hadn’t offered up much of an explanation for the speeding which had led to his running into another car just on the outskirts of town.
Luckily the damage to both cars had been minor and no one had been injured. But because of their age and the speeding, the Deputy had decided to take the boys in and call her and Jewel.
She looked over her shoulder at her boss who walked beside Joe. The teen had a hangdog look on his face and clearly seemed to be sorry for what had happened.
Unlike T.J.
As they exited the police station, she spotted Fisher strolling out of Lone Star Square. Judging from the activity in the square, the movie had apparently just let out in the theater on the other side of the plaza. Some of the people headed to the cars parked all along the edges of the central space while Fisher and another couple waited to cross the street. He noticed them leaving the police station and condemnation flashed across his features.
It made her want to go over and wipe that critical look from his face, but she plowed forward. Speaking with T.J. about what had happened tonight needed to be her number one priority right now.
As they approached the parking lot, she inspected yet again the damage to T.J.’s car—a big ugly dent along the front bumper and part of the passenger side panel of the 1974 Pontiac GTO.
The GTO that his dad had bought as a rusty heap and had been restoring for years before his death. The GTO that T.J. had also been, as he called it, “pimping.”
She paused before the car and stared at the damage before she looked up and met Jewel’s concerned gaze, Joe’s sheepish one and T.J.’s stony countenance.
“Luckily no one was hurt and the damage to both cars can be repaired. When we get home, we’ll discuss how you’re going to pay for those repairs and the speeding ticket,” she said. Handing T.J. the keys to the GTO, she finished, “I’ll follow you home.”
Turning to Jewel, she noticed her friend’s concern, but also Jewel’s