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She reached the patio moments after Aaron. The young woman stood near the food tables, searching the room. Cupping her hands to her mouth, she shouted, “Where’s Ray Hartman? I need to talk to him.”
For a wild second, Mel thought the young woman was delivering a singing telegram. Except, she didn’t wear a costume. Unless one counted that ratty old ball cap.
“I’m Ray.” Mel’s father, beaming as if he, too, was expecting a birthday surprise, emerged from the crowd, a heaping plate of food in his hands.
“Do you recognize me?”
“’Fraid not.”
“I’m Samantha Egherman.” She glared at him. “Your daughter. I’m here for my share of the lottery money.”
Bursts of laughter vied with gasps of disbelief.
“Who’s that?” someone asked.
“She said she’s Ray’s daughter,” another answered.
“Is this someone’s idea of a joke?”
Mel was convinced she’d misheard the young woman. Then, like everyone else in the room, she looked at her father. His expression wasn’t one of surprise but rather guilt and resignation.
This couldn’t be happening. Samantha Egherman? Mel had never heard the name before.
Her ears started ringing, the sound increasing in volume until it blocked out everything else.
His daughter? That made no sense.
Slowly, Mel’s father set his plate on the nearest table. Facing the young woman, he said, “Samantha,” as if testing her name.
In that instant, Mel knew the outrageous claim was true. She had a half sister. More than that, her father had apparently known and hadn’t told anyone.
Chapter Three (#ud151f536-92ed-5d70-befb-155275bc3c1c)
Aaron and the other partygoers watched the train wreck unfolding before them with a mixture of surprise, embarrassment and sympathy for those involved. And, of course, morbid fascination. Ray repeating the young woman’s name was the equivalent of two locomotives colliding. Mel’s startled cry of distress was the first piece of wreckage flying.
Worried by the unsteady way in which she swayed, Aaron pushed past several people to reach her.
“I got you,” he said, grasping her elbow.
“I don’t believe it.” She lifted her face to his. “I don’t want to believe it.”
Well, who would? Discovering you had an eighteen-year-old sibling wasn’t typically on anyone’s bucket list.
“Are you okay? You’re shaking.”
“Okay? You’ve got to be kidding.” She gave a brittle laugh and then bit back a sob.
“I’m happy to see you, Samantha,” Ray said. “Finally. I’ve been waiting a long time.”
The young woman glared at him. “Look. All I want is my money. Then I’ll get out of here.”
Her money? Aaron thought she had some nerve. Make that a lot of nerve. Ray had bought the winning ticket. The money was his to gift to whomever he chose.
“Is she scamming Dad?” Mel obviously didn’t see the resemblance between her and Samantha that Aaron had noticed yesterday.
“Just wait.” He increased his hold on her. “Give them a minute.”
Mel briefly resisted before relenting, which probably had more to do with Frankie’s warning glance than Aaron’s advice.
“Why don’t you have some supper?” Ray offered Samantha a smile. “You must be hungry. Then we’ll go home. Continue this discussion in private.”
“I don’t want any food,” she said, her voice tight.
“All right then.” He turned and addressed the entire room. “Thank you everyone for coming and making this birthday special. Please stay and enjoy all this great food. My...daughter—” he glanced at Samantha “—and I are leaving.”
After that, Aaron couldn’t stop Mel from rushing to join them. Her sisters, Frankie and Ronnie, beat her there.
“Dad,” Mel said, “you don’t have to do this. You have no proof she’s who she says she is.”
“I’m sorry.”
Aaron wasn’t sure which of his daughters Ray was apologizing to and what for.
“Is it true?” Frankie demanded. “Is she our sister?”
Ray’s smile faltered. “We’ll talk about this at home.”
“Yes, it’s true,” Samantha insisted.
“Oh, God.” Frankie blinked rapidly as if that could halt the tears filling her eyes.
“I know you.” Ronnie nudged Mel aside and pointed at Samantha. “I’ve seen you compete. You’re a barrel racer. A national junior rodeo champion. You turned professional this year.”
Being recognized visibly upset Samantha. She didn’t let it faze her, however, and rallied by raising her chin. “I know you, too.”
From the rodeo circuit or as her long-lost sister?
Ronnie must have wondered the same thing, for she asked, “Why didn’t you say something to me when we met before?”
Samantha’s answer was to raise her chin another notch.
People continued to gawk and whisper behind the shields of their hands. A few respectfully inched away. The gaps they left were instantly filled.
Aaron debated whether to don his deputy hat and clear the room or allow things to play out. He wasn’t on duty, no crime had been committed and no one was in immediate danger. Unless Mel’s fragile state counted.
He took a step forward. The hell with this being the Hartmans’ crisis to handle. Mel needed a friend, and he was that first and foremost.
His next step was blocked by Nancy, who held Kaylee’s hand in a death grip. “Let’s go home, Aaron.”
“Not yet.” He wasn’t leaving without talking to Mel.
“Kaylee’s upset.”
He glanced down at his daughter, who stared over her shoulder at Mel’s nieces, a forlorn expression on her face. If she was upset, it was at having to abandon her friends.
It was on the tip of his tongue to chide Nancy for overdramatizing things. Instead, he nodded at their neighbors who were gathering their things.
“There’s Geo and Leslie,” he said. “Why don’t you ask them for a ride home?”
Nancy frowned, not liking the idea. “What about you?”
“I’ll be home soon.” Aaron bent and gathered Kaylee close. “I love you, jelly bean.”
“I wanna stay, Daddy.”
“You’ll see your friends at preschool on Monday.”
Kaylee pouted. In another minute, she’d be whining. In two minutes, she’d be crying.
“I’ll be home in time to tuck you in.” Aaron straightened. He’d been ready to promise, then stopped himself. With the demands of his job, he couldn’t always be where he wanted, when he wanted, and he hated disappointing Kaylee.
Except, this was personal and not work related. He didn’t have to stay.
“Will you tell me a story about Mommy?” she pleaded.
Guilt pricked at him. “Of course.”
Nancy wasn’t the sole keeper of Robin’s memories. Aaron’s stories tended to be less eloquently spun than Nancy’s, but they were told from the heart. He made sure Kaylee knew how much she’d been adored by Robin and how much Robin had been adored by him.
“Bye, Daddy.”
Aaron watched his daughter and Nancy until the patio door closed behind them. By then, thankfully, more guests had left, their tongues wagging, Aaron was sure. A few kindly individuals began clearing tables and packing food. No one had heeded Ray’s invitation to stay.
Mel, her sisters and Ray stood shoulder to shoulder, presenting a united front. Samantha, for her part, didn’t flinch. She either had a lot of nerve or was desperate.
Because he couldn’t just stand around doing nothing, he grabbed a heavy-duty plastic bag and began collecting trash. When Mel noticed him, he mouthed, You okay?
She shrugged limply. Her red-rimmed eyes indicated she’d been crying or trying hard not to.
He wished he could comfort her. Wrap his arms around her. Without conscious effort, he pictured them lying nestled softly together in the aftermath of making love. In those moments, he let himself imagine a life beyond stolen evenings here and there. Unfortunately, the fantasy always vanished the instant he set foot inside his house.
It did now, too, as Samantha continued causing a scene.
“Fine,” she spat out. “I’ll follow you in my truck.” She made for the door, her boots clomping on the concrete floor.
A chagrined Ray hurried after her. He was either escaping the wrath of his wife and daughters or attempting to head off disaster. Perhaps a little of both.
“Are we just going to let them leave?” Mel demanded of her sisters.
“Hell, no,” Ronnie and Frankie chorused.
“Maybe you should give them some time alone,” Dolores said.
The three sisters blinked at her in disbelief.
She crossed her arms. “I’m serious. And you know I don’t usually put my foot down. Ten minutes, then you can go. For now, let’s finish cleaning up.”
“What about the girls?” Frankie asked, more to herself than anyone else. “I can’t just leave them, and I don’t want to take them. For obvious reasons.”
All eyes fell to Dolores, who gave an expansive huff.
“Thank you,” Frankie said, taking the huff as agreement to help.
“We’re not excluding you.” Mel at least sounded apologetic for all of them taking terrible advantage of Dolores.
“Meet you at the house,” Dolores said. “And tell your father to leave me the car. He can catch a ride with one of you three.”
Frankie called after her. “Bring the leftover barbecued beef home. Everything else can be stored in the restaurant cooler.”
Dolores stopped midstep. “Anything else?”
“Um...no.”
Aaron gave Dolores a lot of credit. She was coping very well with a difficult and awkward turn of events no one had seen coming. She also wasn’t protesting when Mel and her sisters took advantage of her generosity. He hoped they let Dolores know how much they appreciated her.
One by one, people were leaving. He supposed he should hit the road as well−−except his legs disobeyed his brain and took him in the direction of Mel. She’d already had a rough time tonight and appeared to have a rougher time in store.
When he neared, she actually brightened as if glad to see him.
“Call me if you need anything,” he said in a low voice. “I don’t care how late it is.”
“Thanks for staying. You didn’t have to.”
“I wanted to.” Glancing around first to make sure they weren’t being watched—everyone’s attention remained elsewhere—he brushed her hand. “I’m here for you, Mel.”
When he would have walked away, she quickly touched his arm. “That means a lot to me.”
More stolen moments. They were fast becoming not enough.
Outside, the parking lot was considerably less full than earlier. As Aaron crossed it, raised voices drew his attention. In the back row, Samantha stood beside her junkyard truck, its hood raised. Ray was with her, and the two of them argued bitterly.
Aaron hesitated, reminding himself yet again that this was none of his business. If only the law-enforcement officer in him didn’t view the situation differently.
Uttering a low groan of frustration, he changed direction. Mel would probably be mad at him for interfering, but Aaron didn’t feel he had any other choice. Here was a powder keg on the verge of exploding if ever he saw one.
* * *
“IS THERE A PROBLEM?” Aaron asked.
