Texas-Sized Trouble

This morning, she’d left her car there and they’d decided to take his pickup, leaving long before sunrise. Conversation was a strain now, and he missed the easy way they used to talk to each other.

Ryder hopped the pair of concrete porch steps onto the small patio, and then opened the weathered screen door. It creaked and groaned. No way could anyone slip into this house quietly. And especially because a few dogs in neighboring yards fired off rapid barks. At this rate, the whole neighborhood would be up, trying to figure out what was going on. On second thought, he might need to talk to neighbors. Maybe it was good that they’d be up.

Ryder knocked on the wood part of the door. Most of the top half was glass. White paint chipped off the rest.

No answer.

This time, Ryder pounded on the door, rattling the glass in the window. The neighborhood dogs reacted again, going crazy barking as a figure moved toward the door. The woman came into view as she neared. Her hair wild, she wore jeans and a half-unbuttoned flannel shirt, no doubt the same clothes she had on last night. Worry lines and too much hard living shadowed what might have been an attractive face at one time.

“Who are you and what do you want?” she asked, cracking the door. Her gaze bounced from Ryder to Faith. Her eyes widened as she zeroed in on Faith, no doubt picking up on the fact that she was Hollister McCabe’s daughter. “Never mind. You’re not welcome here. Get off my porch.”

Celeste tried to slam the door but Ryder stuck the toe of his boot inside to stop her. “I’m sorry to wake you, but we’re here out of concern for your son. Is there any chance we can come inside?”

“No.” Angry lines did nothing to improve the woman’s hard features. On closer appraisal, she couldn’t have been older than her midthirties.

“I know he hasn’t been home. We just want to get some information so we can figure out where he is,” Faith said.

“My son is none of your business.” Celeste stared at Faith before giving Ryder a disgusted look. “Now move so I can close the door.”

Bringing Faith might’ve been a mistake. Ryder shifted to the right a little in order to block a direct line of sight between the two of them.

“No need to do anything you’ll regret,” Ryder said quickly, trying to bring the focus back to him. “We’re here to ask a few questions and then we’ll be on our way.”

“You with the law?” Celeste asked, glancing at the pocket of his jacket, most likely looking for a badge.

Ryder shook his head.

“Then let go of my door and get the hell off my property,” Celeste ground out.

“But—” Faith started.

“Last time I checked, trespassing was against the law. If you’re not gone by the time I count to three, I’m calling the cops.” Celeste’s tone intensified with her rising anger. Her gaze was locked onto Faith and he could tell that she was struggling to get past coming face-to-face with a McCabe.

“Okay.” Ryder held his hands up in surrender and shifted his boot, allowing her to shut them out.

The woman slammed the door so hard he thought the glass might break. She took a step back, folded her arms and stared them down.

“I hope you won’t let anything happen to your son because you’re not thrilled with us. We want to work together to find him and make sure he’s okay. We all know he wouldn’t disappear like this without answering his cell,” he said through the thin glass.

An emotion crossed her features, briefly softening her hard stare. She made a move for the door handle, but hesitated.

And then she shook her head.

Damn. He was so close to getting through to her.

“Did you eat breakfast this morning?” Ryder asked Faith. He spoke loud enough for Nicholas’s mother to hear.

“What? No. Why?” Her brow knit in confusion.

“There’s a diner in town.” He turned and hopped off the porch.

“That’s it?” Her voice outlined her shock as she stood rooted. “You’re giving up just like that? And now you’re hungry?”

“Get in the truck.”

“But she might know something. I can’t walk away without figuring out a way to make her talk to us.”

“She won’t. Not like this. She needs a minute to think it over. Besides, she’s listening to us and watching every move we make.” Ryder slowed but didn’t turn; he kept right on walking.

“Then we should talk to the neighbors. Someone might’ve seen something. Don’t tell me we drove all the way out here to eat breakfast.” The desperation in her voice almost made him turn around. Almost.

“If you want her to help find Nicholas, get in the truck.”

“Fine.” Faith stomped so hard the earth should’ve cracked. The only thing that did was Ryder’s face, in a grin. She still had that same fierce determination.

As soon as she took her seat and slammed the truck door closed, she whirled on him. “I hope this means you have a plan, because you just blew the only lead we have so far.”

“I didn’t but you almost did,” he said, keeping that wry grin intact as he turned the key in the ignition. The engine fired up.

“Me?” She was so angry the word came out in a high-pitched croak. “You’re joking, right?”

“Never been more serious.” He navigated the pickup through the one-lane street. “And you should calm down. Getting upset can’t be good for...it.” He motioned toward her belly, not really sure what to call the baby yet.

“Well, then, you’re going to have to explain everything to me as if I’m a two-year-old because I don’t understand,” she said, dodging his baby comment.

Chapter Three (#ulink_56756a24-d26d-554b-b95e-78d5ab505605)

Downtown Braxton, Texas, had a post office, a diner, a bank and a city hall. The diner was across the street from city hall and anchored an otherwise empty strip center. Ryder parked, fed the meter and then opened Faith’s door for her.

“You still haven’t told me what we’re doing here,” she said, taking his hand.

He ignored the frisson of heat where their fingers touched. Sexual chemistry wasn’t the problem between them, never had been. Trust was, and it appeared to be an issue on both sides. As for him, there’d be no way to get around her deception and build any kind of bond. Yes, he was still angry at her, and that was why he didn’t want to think about the attraction he felt or anything else that didn’t directly impact finding Nicholas.

“She’ll come and then she’ll be ready to talk,” he said. “She needs a minute to come to terms with the fact that you care.”

“How do you know that?” Faith didn’t bother to hide her frustration; angry lines creased her forehead.

“Curiosity will get the best of her. She loves him. I could see it in her eyes. She wants to find him as much as we do, and we planted the seed that we’re concerned,” he clarified.

“I hope you’re right,” she said.

“She’s also proud. She might not take care of him the way you would but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t love him. He might be the only family she has and she won’t let go easily,” he clarified.

“Celeste didn’t get what she wanted from my dad. I figured she was just using him, maybe even got pregnant on purpose hoping for a free ride. But she kept Nicholas and has been bringing him up ever since even though my dad was a jerk and refused to pay support,” she said thoughtfully.

He didn’t address the irony of that idea given their current situation, and she acknowledged that she was thinking the same thing with a quick flash of her eyes toward him. It was a good sign that she’d calmed down and could think through the situation clearly. Faith was smart.

“Oh, no.” She suddenly stopped at the diner door, turned and ran toward the trash can.