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“Yes.” She smoothed the Coke can with her thumb. “I don’t know how Bruce can do this to him.”
There was silence for a moment, then Ethan said, “You’re hurting him, too.”
Molly’s head jerked up. “What!”
“Right now Cole’s resentment at his father’s betrayal is feeding off your anger and pain. He can’t move beyond that.”
“That’s Bruce’s fault, not mine,” Molly put in quickly.
“So instead of helping Cole deal with this, you’d rather see him torn apart?”
Molly jumped to her feet. “I don’t want to talk about this,” she said angrily.
Ethan caught her arm before she could walk away. “Molly, Bruce is Cole’s father. You can’t change that, and you have to realize that Cole’s gonna have a part in his life.”
“No!” Molly shook her head wildly. “I don’t want Cole near that…that woman.”
“Oh, Molly.” Ethan got up and took her in his arms.
“What did I do wrong, Ethan?” she cried. “I tried to be the perfect wife and mother. I was so happy when I could quit work and be at home full-time. I loved the cooking, running the household, entertaining. I had parties for Bruce’s associates, and I made sure our home was a place Bruce and Cole could be proud of, but—”
“Sis, you have to stop looking at the past and start looking toward the future.”
“I wish I could, but I can’t get Bruce and her out of my head. She’s only three years older than Cole and—”
“You’re dwelling on this too much,” Ethan said. The age thing was a big problem for Molly. Bruce falling for a younger woman had somehow reduced her worth as a woman. Her confidence was gone and her personality had changed completely in a few months.
“You’ve always been the rock in our family, and I know you have the strength to survive this,” he said into her hair. “When you found out you were pregnant with Cole, you held up your head and faced everyone. When Mom died, you were the one who kept us all together, even though you were hurting, too. And when I was shot, you helped us all stay sane—including me, and I wasn’t an easy person to deal with at that time.”
She straightened and wiped away tears with the back of her hand. “I can’t seem to stop crying and I don’t even like myself these days.”
“Why don’t you go back to work?” he suggested. She’d been drifting in and out of depression for months, and now was the time to do something about it.
Her face crumpled. “You don’t like having me here?”
“I love it and so does Pop, but you need another interest—something to get your mind off Bruce. And to show Cole that you’re gonna be okay.”
She shrugged. “What would I do? It’s been so long since I’ve worked.”
“You have a friend who’s got a gift shop and another who owns a boutique. Maybe you could help out until you decide what you want to do.”
Molly walked to the sink with a thoughtful expression. She came back with a dishcloth and washed down the table, which it didn’t need. “I’ll think about it,” she finally said.
“Good.” He gave her another hug.
Her arms gripped him so tight he could barely breathe. “What if he marries her, Ethan?”
His heart ached for the sadness in her voice, but she had to face the truth. “Oh, Molly. You have to accept it. It’s going to happen.”
“I know, but—”
“Travis is coming home next Saturday,” he slipped in. He’d wanted Travis to tell her himself, but now he had to use whatever was at his disposal.
She drew back and brushed away a tear. “He is?”
“Yep, so you’d better dry those tears and get a room ready.”
“Oh.” She clapped her hands together. “When’s he coming? I want to fix a big dinner and have the house spic and span. I hope he brings his guitar, because I want to hear his songs. Oh, Ethan, this will be fun! Thank you.”
“What did I do?”
“You made him come home. I know you did, but I don’t care. It’ll be so good to see him. I’ll fix his favorite—chicken and dressing. It won’t be like Mom’s, but I’ll box his ears if he says anything.”
The transformation in Molly was amazing, and that was because she was thinking about something besides Bruce and his new love. He should’ve done this sooner. Molly had to learn that there was life after Bruce.
SERENA AWOKE with a start. She sat up, shook back her hair and turned on the lamp. She’d been dreaming and it was so real. There was a stage and she was standing on it, taking off her clothes. Men were yelling at her, but she continued to undress under their leers and whistles. Her skin still crawled with revulsion and she quickly checked—yes, she had her nightgown on. She wasn’t naked.
“I am not a stripper,” she said out loud. “It’s isn’t me.” Then why did it feel like her? Damn Ethan Ramsey for putting the idea into her head! “I am not a stripper,” she said again, and settled back in bed, trying to calm down. But it wasn’t easy. The feeling of disgust wouldn’t go away.
Her usual worry was about money. Now she was also troubled by the thought that there might be a woman who looked like her. A woman who apparently lived nearby—and worked as a stripper. She couldn’t get it out of her head. She studied the picture on her nightstand—a picture of Jasmine. She had red hair and blue eyes, as did Gran. It was a trait in their family, although Gran’s hair had gone completely white. The woman in the picture did look like Serena. Her hair was brighter and her face slimmer, but they definitely resembled each other.
If the stripper was a “dead ringer” for Serena, there had to be some kind of family connection. But what? Deciding to talk to her grandmother, she got up and went into Aurora’s room. Aurora was sitting in a lounge chair drinking coffee.
“Morning, Gran.” Serena kissed her, then sat cross-legged on the bed.
“Good morning, darling. Did you sleep well?”
No, she’d had horrible dreams she wanted to forget, but she replied, “Yes, thank you.”
She wondered how to bring up the subject of her mother. They never talked about Jasmine, and there were no pictures of her in Aurora’s bedroom or anywhere else in the house. Serena had found the photo she had in her own room tucked away in a drawer.
“What was my father’s name?” She thought that was a good place to start.
“What?” Gran frowned at her.
“I don’t even know his name. My name’s Farrell because you and Grandfather put it on my birth certificate for obvious reasons. His name had to be something else.”
She supposed she could have researched this easily enough, but she’d never felt the need before; especially while her grandfather was still alive. And her grandparents’ feelings about her father were all too evident.
“He’s dead and it’s best to leave him there,” Aurora said in a hard tone, but it didn’t stop Serena. Ethan Ramsey had opened a door in her mind, and all she could see were empty places.
“No, Gran,” she said, her voice just as hard. “I want you to tell me about him—all the bad stuff. I need to know.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s my father.”
“That’s doesn’t mean a thing.”
Serena was taken aback by her grandmother’s attitude. She’d known since she was small that her grandparents hated her father. It was one of the reasons she never asked about him, but now she had to have some answers.
“It does to me,” she replied stubbornly.
Aurora took a quick breath. “His name was John Welch. Jasmine called him Johnnie. He worked as a mechanic. What attracted Jasmine to him I don’t know. She was raised to be a lady, not to live in a one-room apartment above a garage. Henry and I laid down the law and forbade her to see him again, but she ran off to be with him. It almost killed us.”
Serena knew this part of the story. It sounded almost rehearsed. She wanted more.
“Where is John Welch’s family?”
Aurora shrugged. “I don’t know and I don’t care.”
“Gran!”
“All right.” Aurora patted her white hair. “He lived with someone in a trailer park. After he was killed, they moved away. That’s the only family I knew about.”
“So my father doesn’t have any relatives around here?”
Aurora eyed her strangely. “Why all the questions, Serena?”
“Someone said he saw a woman who looked like me in Dallas, and it got me thinking.”
“Looks like you,” Aurora laughed nervously. “That’s ridiculous. No one’s as beautiful as you. I thought your mother was beautiful, but you’ve eclipsed her in every way.”
Something in Aurora’s voice alerted Serena. “You have forgiven her, haven’t you, Gran?”
“Forgive? I’m not sure. A mother never gets over that kind of pain.” Her hand shook as she took a sip of coffee.
“Oh, Gran.” Serena rushed over and hugged her. “Jasmine gave me to you. You wouldn’t have raised me if you hadn’t loved her deeply.”
Aurora touched her cheek. “Yes, you’re the one good thing that came out of the tragedy.”
Serena sat on the edge of the chair. “I wish I knew more about my father.”
“He’s not worth knowing. Forget about him.”
Serena frowned. She’d never heard her grandmother talk with such vehemence, and it rattled her. Was there something Gran wasn’t telling her?
THE DREAMS CONTINUED. She was stripping in front of men, but now Ethan was in the dream watching her with an I knew it expression on his face. She couldn’t shake the dream and it was beginning to wear her down. She couldn’t let that happen; there were too many other concerns that needed her attention.
She went to a jeweler to have the earrings appraised before hocking them—and discovered that they were worth far more than she’d ever imagined. The jeweler said the shape of the diamond was very rare, as was the box they were in. He showed her the markings on the bottom of the box and explained their significance. The information made her decision that much more difficult, but she kept reminding herself that she didn’t have a choice. The jeweler made her an offer, and she accepted on condition that he’d hold the earrings for thirty days before selling them. Why, she had no idea. She just wanted an option left open to her. The jeweler also agreed to make a cheap fake pair and a similar box. He said she could pick them up in a couple of days. As she hurried out of the store, she felt as if she’d thrown away part of her heritage. But it was only a thing, she kept telling herself.
The next day she went to the bank and made the payment. Mr. Wylie was surprised but pleased, and she could see he was curious about where she’d gotten the money. She didn’t tell him it came from the past—a past she’d probably never see again. But right now, her only feeling was relief that she wouldn’t have to worry about another payment for three months.
THAT NIGHT Serena fought sleep. She couldn’t tolerate another one of those nights. She had to teach in the morning. She groaned at the prospect, almost giving in to a wave of exhaustion. Why couldn’t she stop thinking about the other woman? Maybe because she felt Gran wasn’t telling her the whole story about her father. But what did it matter? Serena got her features from her mother’s side of the family. Her father’s family had nothing to do with that. Still…she’d like to know something about them.
Ethan Ramsey could help her. No, no, she was taking this too far. Gran wouldn’t lie to her. But…she flipped on the light and went over to the trash can. His business card was still inside. She retrieved it and placed it on her nightstand. Now what? Ethan could find out about the other woman; that was the only way she was going to have any peace. Private investigators cost money, though, and she wondered how much he charged. Since she was struggling to stay afloat, hiring him was crazy to even contemplate. Absolutely crazy. She opened the drawer and dropped the card in. She had to pull herself together and stop thinking about the stripper…and Ethan Ramsey.
THINGS WERE CHANGING around the Ramsey house. Molly cleaned and cooked all week, getting ready for Travis’s homecoming. Ethan even heard her singing a few times, and it did his heart good. Bruce had called Cole and Cole had talked to him, in one-word answers, but it was a start. Even though Molly was still hurting, at least she was making an effort to control her reactions. She didn’t say anything when Bruce called, and that was a big improvement. She didn’t even ask Cole what Bruce wanted, which Ethan considered the biggest step of all. She was letting Cole form his own opinions of his father.
Ethan was busy on the ranch, baling hay, fixing fence and clearing brush to rid his pasture of mesquite. It was a never-ending job. He’d bought a spirited horse that needed breaking. Cole was eager for the job, and Ethan figured it was a way for him to get rid of some of the tension he was carrying around. So Saturday morning, Ethan let him try his hand.
He held the horse while his nephew climbed on, then he ran to the fence as the horse started to buck. “Ride ’em, boy. Ride ’em…”
His voice stilled when the horse managed to send Cole flying through the air. The boy hit the ground, spitting out dirt, then rolled onto his back. “What am I doing wrong, Uncle Ethan?”
Ethan shook his head. “You’re not concentrating,” he said from his perch on the fence.
Cole got to his feet and dusted off his jeans. “I’ve concentrated so hard my head’s about to explode.”
“Want to try again?” Pop called, capturing the animal’s reins.
Cole didn’t answer as he stared off toward the road.
Ethan followed his gaze. A truck was coming, stirring up dust like a thundercloud.
Pop put the horse in the bigger corral and walked over to Ethan. Cole followed. “It’s Uncle Travis, isn’t it?” Cole asked excitedly.
Ethan squinted against the morning sun. “Yep, sure looks like it.”
“Yea doggie!” Cole shouted, then leaped over the fence and ran for the house.
Ethan jumped to the ground and winced as pain shot up his leg. Damn, he hated that weakness. But the pain in his hip was his own battle and he dealt with it privately, without complaining, without excuses.
Pop headed for his horse, tethered to the fence. “Think I’ll check on those heifers in the north pasture.”
“Pop,” Ethan called.
His father turned to look at him.
“Thought you were going to make an effort—for Molly.”
“Son—”
“Let’s go, Pop. It’s time to say hello to your youngest son.”
When they reached the house, Travis and Cole were horsing around, throwing punches at each other. With an arm around Cole, Travis said, “Hi, Ethan. Pop.”
“Son,” Pop replied in a solemn voice. “You finally found your way home.”
Ethan took a long breath and embraced Travis, not wanting to give Pop any opportunity to get more zingers in. Pop’s attitude did not bode well for the weekend.
“Good to have you here,” Ethan said as the front door flew open and Molly burst out.
“Travis, Travis!” she cried, and ran into his arms. He swung her round and round until all they heard was the sound of laughter.
Finally Travis set her on her feet. “You’ll never believe what I have cooking in the house!” Molly paused to catch her breath. “Chicken and dressing and apple pie,” she said before Travis could speak.
Travis looped an arm around her waist as they made their way into the house. “You always were my favorite sister.”
