Texas Rebels: Paxton. Linda Warren

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      Miss Bertie walked in and glanced at him, then to the empty doorway. “Is that part of the look?”

      Paxton swung toward the door. “No. It’s goodbye.”

      He shoved the shift into gear, backed up and left the crazy ladies behind. He was sticking his nose into something that didn’t concern him and he had no desire to get to know Ezra McCray’s daughter.

      * * *

      REMI SANK ONTO the sofa, fuming. How dare he stick his nose into her business? She curled her hand into a fist, still feeling the warmth of his lips and his teeth against her skin. That strange gesture had awakened something in her that had been dormant for a long time—the need for male companionship. But not him. He was arrogant and rude and...

      Gran sat beside her. “What’s the matter, sweetie?”

      “Nothing.” She tried to hide what she was feeling, but feared she failed.

      “What did he mean about a thank-you?”

      “Nothing, Gran. He’s just an arrogant jerk.”

      “Oh, I thought he was a very handsome young man. If I were your age, I’d be batting my eyes at him and smiling as sweetly as I could.”

      “You would not. Things were very proper back then.”

      Gran let out a big laugh and slapped her leg with her hand. “Oh, sweetie, men and women are men and women at any age. Now your grandpa, he was quiet and shy. I had my work cut out for me because I had him picked out for a long time. We were at a school dance, and when it was time for the girls to choose their partners, I chose him. When they shouted to change partners, I didn’t let go and said, ‘I’d rather dance with you.’ He said, ‘I would, too.’ And from that day on we were a couple.”

      “That’s so sweet, Gran.” How she wished it could be that simple today. But she had too much on her mind to even think about getting involved with someone. Not that he was interested in her. He’d said she was pale and thin. Pale and thin? As much as the words made her angry, she knew they were true. Would she ever be strong enough to be able to adopt Annie?

      She rested her head on her grandmother’s shoulder. “I wish I had lived in your time.”

      “No, you don’t. You’re struggling right now, but life will turn around for you. Have you called your parents?”

      “Yes. I think they were camped out in my apartment waiting for me to come home.”

      Gran stroked Remi’s hair. “They just worry about you.”

      “I know, but the accident happened in October and I’m strong enough to live in my apartment again. I wish they would understand that.”

      “When you’re a mother, you’ll understand those feelings.”

      Remi sat up. “I was so devastated when my lawyer called and told me not to go to the hospital anymore to see Annie. The adoption process is in full swing and other couples will be ‘visiting’ with her, as CPS puts it. When I heard that, I ran like I always do, as if I can outrun my fears. But I have to face that I might not get Annie because of my health. That’s so unfair.”

      “Yes. But you said your interview and the visit to your apartment went well, so don’t lose hope.”

      Remi scooted to face her grandmother. “Dad and Mom moved my bed over and we were able to get Annie’s baby bed that Holly and I had bought into the room, and the changing table. A small chest for her clothes fit in there, too. It looks really nice and I was happy the room was big enough. I wish I had had time to get a bigger apartment or maybe a house.”

      Gran patted Remi’s leg. “Love is all that counts.”

      Remi prayed that was true. “In the fall I go back to teaching and I have to find a really good day care for Annie.”

      “Now don’t go putting the cart before the horse. Let’s get over this hurdle first.”

      “Yes, ma’am.” Remi lay back on the couch and raised her left leg. “Time for stretches. Push my leg as far back as you can.”

      Gran got to her feet. “Oh, Lordy, I hate doing this. I’m afraid I might hurt you and that’s...”

      Gran’s voice faded away as Remi’s thoughts turned to Paxton. How odd it was that they’d met on a deserted beach. She’d been running away from her fears. She wondered if he had been, too.

      * * *

      PAXTON DROVE STRAIGHT to the equipment shed to park the trailer. His mother’s truck was still at the office so he jumped back into his truck and headed there.

      He took one of the leather chairs in front of her desk. She glanced up from the ledger she was writing in. There were several computers in the office, but his mother liked to do things the old way. She wrote things down in the ledger to keep track of cattle and horses and sales and payments.

      “How did it go?”

      He removed his hat and laid it on the desk. “I didn’t know Miss Bertie had a granddaughter—a granddaughter who is Ezra McCray’s daughter.”

      His mother’s eyes opened wide. “Remington is here? Bertie must be pleased.”

      “Remington is her name?” For some reason he found that a little strange. The name didn’t fit the feminine woman he’d met.

      “Yes, but I think she’s called Remi. Ezra named his children Ruger and Remington, after guns. He was one crazy man.”

      He didn’t want to push his privileges as her son, but he had to know. He leaned forward, his hands clasped between his knees. “I don’t understand this relationship you have with Miss Bertie. Her daughter was Ezra McCray’s wife. And Miss Bertie’s much older than you.”

      She slowly closed the ledger and then glanced at him, her brown eyes dark and serious. “You see, son, Bertie and I have something in common. We both hate the McCrays.”

      “Yeah. She made that clear.”

      “To be honest I never thought I’d be friends with Bertie. I met her at one of the Elvis get-togethers some ladies have in town. We found we had a lot to talk about. Bertie and Edgar were devastated when Ava married Ezra. They eloped and they both were of age so there was nothing Bertie or Edgar could do but watch their daughter be brutalized by that horrible man. Time after time Bertie reported Ezra to the sheriff, but Ava would never testify against him.”

      Paxton listened, and even though it was something he didn’t know, what caught his attention were the Elvis get-togethers. “You go to Elvis parties?”

      His mother lifted an eyebrow. “Yes, with the sheriff’s mother, Mrs. Peabody and several other ladies. We have a good time. We play poker, listen to music, eat, drink a few beers and talk about the latest gossip in Horseshoe.”

      “You drink beer?” All his life he’d never seen his mother drink any type of liquor, especially after what had happened to their father. She was against drinking, but she never told any of her sons to stop. They were grown СКАЧАТЬ