Miracle at Colts Run Cross. Joanna Wayne

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СКАЧАТЬ might have been a better term for the conglomeration of inhabitants. Becky hadn’t planned to stay forever when she’d left Nick and returned to the ranch, but the ranch had a way of reclaiming its own.

      The boys missed their father, but they were happy here. More important, they were safe from the kinds of problems that plagued kids growing up in the city.

      Becky took her coffee and walked to the den. Almost impulsively, she reached for the remote and flipped on the TV. She was caught off guard as a picture of Nick with David and Derrick flashed across the screen.

      Anger rose in her throat. How dare they put her boys’ pictures on TV without her permission? Both she and Nick had always been determined to keep them out of the limelight.

      “Nick Ridgely’s estranged wife Becky is one of the Collingsworths of Collingsworth Oil and Jack’s Bluff Ranch. His twin sons Derrick and David live on the ranch with their mother. There’s been no word from them on Nick’s potentially career-ending injury.”

      She heard the back door open and Bart’s voice as he called to Juanita about the terrific odors coming from the kitchen. Becky switched off the TV quickly and joined them in the kitchen. It would be nice to make it through breakfast without a mention of Nick, but she knew that was too much to hope for.

      The next best thing was to head her family off at the pass and keep them from upsetting Derrick and David with new doubts about their father’s condition. Nick had left things on a positive note, and she planned to keep them there.

      The phone rang, and she inwardly grimaced. Where there’s a way, there would be a reporter with questions. And once they started, there would be no letup. Whether she liked it or not, she and her family, especially her sons, were about to be caught in the brutal glare of the public eye.

      BULL STARED in the mirror as he yanked on his jeans. “Hell of a looker you are to be living like this,” he muttered to himself. Without bothering to zip his pants, he padded barefoot across the littered floor of the tiny bedroom and down the short hall to the bathroom.

      After he finished in the john, he stumbled sleepily to the kitchen, pushed last night’s leftovers out of his way and started a pot of coffee. This was a piss-poor way to live but still better than that crummy halfway house he’d been stuck in until last week.

      And the price was right. Free, unless you counted the food he donated to the roaches and rats that homesteaded here. The cabin had been in his family for years, but he was only passing through until he came up with a plan to get enough money to start over in Mexico.

      His parole officer expected him to get a job. Yeah, right. Everyone was just jumping for joy at the chance to hire a man fresh out of prison for stabbing a pregnant woman while in the throes of road rage. No matter that she deserved it.

      He stamped his feet to get his blood moving and fight the chill. The cabin was without any heat except what he could get from turning on the oven, and he didn’t have the propane to waste on that. The only reason he had electricity was because he’d worked for the power company in his earlier life just long enough to learn how to connect to the current and steal the watts he needed.

      Once the coffee was brewing, he started the daily search for the remote. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear the rats hid it every night while he was sleeping. This time it turned up under the blanket he’d huddled under to watch the late show last night.

      The TV came to life just as the local station broke in with a news flash. He turned up the volume to get the full story. It was all about Nick Ridgely. Apparently he’d gotten seriously injured in Sunday’s game. Like who gave a damn about Nick Ridgely?

      They showed a picture of him with his sons. Cute kids. But then they would be. Nick was married to Becky Collingsworth. He still had sordid dreams about her in those short little skirts and sweaters that showed off her perky breasts.

      But the bitch had never given him the time of day. The announcer referred to her as Nick’s estranged wife. Apparently she’d dumped him. Or maybe he’d dumped her. Either way they were both fixed for life, lived like Texas royalty with money to burn while he lived in this dump. The little money he’d stashed away before prison was nearly gone.

      No cash. No job. Nothing but a parole officer who kept him pinned down like a tiger in a cage.

      Bull’s muscles tightened as perverted possibilities skittered through his mind. He went back to the kitchen for coffee, took a long sip and cursed himself silently for even considering doing something that could land him right back in prison.

      Still the thoughts persisted and started taking definite shape as the image of Nick Ridgely’s twin sons seared into his mind.

       Chapter Two

      “Too bad about your dad.”

      “Yeah, man. Tough.”

      Derrick joined the boys entering the school after recess. “I talked to him last night. He’ll be back and better than ever.”

      “That’s not what they said on TV this morning.”

      David pushed into the line beside them. “Yeah, but they don’t know. My mother said they’re just making news.”

      “Well, my daddy said neck injuries are the worst kind. Anyway, I’m sorry he got hurt,”

      “Me, too,” Butch Kelly added. “I’d be scared to death if it was my dad.”

      “It’s not like he’s crippled or anything,” David said. “He just took a hit.”

      Janie Thomas squeezed in beside Derrick. “They put your picture on TV, too. My big sister thinks you’re cute.”

      “Yeah, David, you’re cute,” Derrick mocked, making his voice sound like a girl.

      “You look just like me, you clown. If I’m cute, you are, too.”

      David followed Derrick to their lockers. They were side by side because they were assigned in alphabetical order. He shrugged out of his jacket and took off the Dallas Cowboys cap his dad had gotten signed by all his teammates. Derrick had one, too. His was white. David’s was blue. He wore it everywhere he went.

      “Are you worried about Daddy?” Derrick asked.

      “I am now,” David admitted. “Do you think he might really be hurt too bad to ever play again?”

      “I don’t know. I think we should ask Uncle Langston to fly us to Dallas to check on him.”

      “Momma said we couldn’t go.”

      “She said we couldn’t miss school, but he could fly us up there at noon, and we could be home by bedtime, like he did when he took us to watch Daddy play the Giants back in October.”

      David shrugged. “Yeah. Maybe, but I bet Momma’s still going to say no.”

      “We ought to call Uncle Langston. He might talk her into it.”

      “We’d miss practicing for the pageant.”

      “So what?” Derrick scoffed. “How much practice does it take to СКАЧАТЬ