A Texas Soldier's Family

Again, Adelaide shook her head. “All we’ve managed to do thus far is gather all the records in one place. Which isn’t as easy as it sounds, because there were some at the foundation office, some at Lucille’s, some at Dad’s house.” She surveyed the stacks upon stacks of files. “We’ll put it all together, but the actual audit is going to take a while.”

“How long?” Hope asked.

“A couple of days.”

She looked unhappy about that. “What can we do to help speed things along?”

His mother consulted the lengthy handwritten to-do list in her leather notebook. “You and Garrett could go into town. Talk with the director of the nonprofit the foundation is funding there.” Lucille wrote out the information, handed it over. “If the foundation has indeed let down Bess Monroe and the wounded warriors she is trying to help, it’s going to take both of you to fix things.”

* * *

“THIS CAN’T BE RIGHT.” Hope paused in front of the door to Monroe’s Western Wear clothing store, Lucille’s notes in hand. Yet the street address matched, as did the last names.

Garrett, who had decided to carry Max in lieu of getting the stroller out of the SUV, said, “Let’s go in and see.”

A young man behind the counter approached. “Can I help you?” he asked.

Briefly, they explained the problem. “I’m Nick Monroe. Bess’s brother,” the genial dark-haired man explained. “Bess is using our family store as the nonprofit’s address because she doesn’t yet have the funds for a facility.”

“We’d like to talk to her.”

“She’s just about to get off shift at the hospital where she works.” Nick Monroe paused. “Although I’m not sure how happy she is going to be to see you-all. She’s not too happy with the Lockhart Foundation these days.”

An understatement, as it turned out.

Although her shift had officially ended by the time they arrived at the rehab department, Bess Monroe was still deep in conversation with a little girl in a back brace and the girl’s mother. The rest of the well-equipped physical therapy clinic was filled with all ages and injuries, including a couple of people who appeared to be former military.

Learning they were there to see her, Bess Monroe wrapped up her conversation and came toward them. She smiled tenderly at Max, who was wide awake, leaning happily against Garrett’s wide chest, then turned back to Garrett and Hope with a frown. Directing them to an office with her name on the door, Bess shut the door behind them. Still holding Max, Garrett handled the introductions.