A Texas Ranger's Family. Mae Nunn

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      The three people Erin saw standing beside her bed were linked in a typical Christmas card pose. Artificial and forced. Family in its “natural” state. She sent up a prayer.

      Lord, I put this all behind me years ago. What is Your purpose in dragging me back? I lost consciousness in one battle zone and regained it in another. I hope You know what You’re doing here.

      “Hey, you’re awake.” Dana was the first to notice.

      “And hungry,” Erin replied. She hated dropping such an obvious hint but the flow of conditioned air from the kitchen, positioned next to the solarium, was pulling a mouthwatering aroma right beneath her nose.

      “Well, it’s probably not as exotic as what you’re used to, but it’s one of Daniel’s favorite meals. Round steak, corn, mashed potatoes and gravy.” There was pride in LaVerne’s voice. The woman was crazy about her son.

      “If by exotic you mean an MRE, I’ll stand in your chow line any day.”

      “MRE?”

      “Meals Ready to Eat. ‘Yummy’ freeze-dried military rations,” Erin explained to Dana, glad for a safe subject. “Believe it or not, they’re pretty decent but I prefer a camel kabob when I can get one.”

      “Eeeeeuuuuuuuuu!” Dana’s face squinted in disgust. “You’ve eaten camel?”

      “Does it taste like chicken?” Daniel asked.

      “Not even close,” she answered. “It tastes like…camel. Really tough and gamy unless you can get a cut from the hump where the meat is less sinewy.”

      “I don’t know about any camel’s hump but I’ve got supper in the kitchen from a cow’s rump, so let’s eat.” LaVerne headed toward the door. “Dana, I need you to set the table pronto, and no back talk.”

      Dana noted her father’s better-do-as-she-says shrug and left the room.

      “Would you like a tray in here?” he offered. “It might be too much for you to come to the table tonight, but it’s your call.”

      Hmm…Stay in here alone while they talk about me or join them in the dining room while they watch my every move. Either way, I’m a big loser who needs somebody to cut my meat.

      As tempting as it sounded to hide out on the lovely glass-enclosed porch, it was time to get started. Erin justified her agreement to join them in Houston as part of her rehab strategy. She’d made up her mind to look at every task as therapy. The sooner she could function on her own, the sooner she could get back to active duty. Behind the camera lens where she could record the lives of others. It was so much safer than engaging in the messy stuff herself.

      “I’d like to eat with the rest of you, if it’s all right.”

      “Yeah, sure. Just let me get the wheelchair ready.” He started to turn away, too much of a gentleman to answer any differently.

      “Daniel.” Erin lowered her voice so the others wouldn’t hear. “Thank you for allowing me into your home. I know this is as difficult for you as it is for me, and I promise as soon as I can physically manage on my own, I’ll get out of your life.”

      “It’s Dana’s life I’m worried about, not mine and not yours. I agreed to have you here for her benefit. Stay as long as you need to and don’t leave before you’re ready.” He glanced toward the door, took a step closer and lowered his voice, as well. “But when you’re ready, you’re leaving alone. Understand?”

      “Perfectly.”

      His narrowed eyes said he meant business. And who could blame him.

      “Dad, if we have leftovers, will you make potato pancakes for breakfast before church?” Dana pleaded from the other room where she plunked dishes and flatware on a tabletop.

      “Church?”

      Dana had talked a lot about their church home. They knew everybody and attending a service would put Erin on display. She was going to have to pass on the very first opportunity to work on mobility.

      “Of course,” Daniel answered. He leaned close but waited for her nod to signal permission before sliding supportive arms beneath her knees and the small of her back and lifting without effort. As he settled her into the chair and folded a gosh-awful-looking crocheted thing over her lap, his moss-green eyes locked with hers.

      “And don’t even think about beggin’ off. This family worships together. And whether either one of us likes it or not, Erin, for a little while anyway you’re part of this family.”

      Chapter Three

      Sunday morning in Texas was nothing like Erin remembered and everything she’d once imagined it could be.

      The chatter that echoed in the kitchen was contentious but good-natured. The dialogue between grandparent and grandchild was one disagreement after another with Daniel acting as mediator. But the dichotomy in the conversation never once escalated into the bitter shouts or harsh threats that accompanied dissent in her family experiences.

      As with the meal the night before, breakfast around the pedestal-style oak table was a learning experience for Erin while it seemed like a social event for the others. Conversation stayed clear of the elephant in the room. She blessed Daniel, yet again, for obviously having reminded LaVerne and Dana against pressing for details that weren’t offered voluntarily.

      But Dana deserved to know something, didn’t she? Where to start?

      “These potato pancakes are a first for me,” Erin mumbled over a mouthful of the tasty breakfast.

      Dana’s fork hovered between her plate and her mouth.

      “Nobody ever fixed this at your house?”

      Erin busied herself managing a fork in her left fist while she considered how much Dana could handle. There was no doubt the girl had been shortchanged without a mother, but on the other hand, Daniel had provided a pretty sweet deal. Their two-story brick home shaded by hundred-year-old pecan trees was in an affluent Houston neighborhood. Since Daniel had brought Dana up in church, it was Erin’s fair guess that he also ensured a quality after-school environment. If nothing else the teenager’s appearance was evidence she was respected and given free choice in personal areas so critical to one her age.

      How could Dana possibly relate to growing up in a home where constant danger and uncertainty prevailed? Best to withhold that insight.

      “Nope,” Erin answered the question. “I grew up in a cold cereal kind of house.”

      Daniel sipped coffee, squinting at her above the rim of his oversized cup. The message of his stare would be more revealing on film, but for now it appeared a cross between censorship and curiosity. It was hard to recall how little she’d told him during their brief marriage, but Erin was certain she hadn’t shared much prior to the string of foster homes.

      “If you think this is good, wait till you have Daddy’s pork spareribs. He cooks them all day and uses molasses in the barbecue sauce.”

      “Don’t be giving СКАЧАТЬ