pot of gold. Money isn’t what I want.”
He grunted with mocking disbelief. “You were just whining earlier that you had to find a job to get enough money to fix your car. You’re lying if you say you don’t want money. Everybody wants it.”
She took a deep breath and tried not to let his attitude rile her. Even though this man was perturbing, he was helping her. She had to keep that uppermost in her mind. “You work as a Ranger just for the money?”
“It’s a job. It’s the way I pay my bills.”
Once again he’d avoided answering her question about his feelings on being a lawman. But Violet wasn’t going to point this out to him. The fact that he was so closed on the subject told her far more than he realized. Charlie Pardee wasn’t an altogether contented man.
She didn’t make any sort of reply, and after several minutes of awkward silence had passed, Charlie glanced at her.
“Have you ever lived in California?” From the drawl in her voice, he very much doubted it. But it was possible she’d been there for a brief time. Why he was curious, he didn’t know.
Violet shook her head. “I was raised in Georgia and lived there until I married my late husband and moved to Texas. I grew up where cotton and peanuts were raised.”
“You don’t...have family there now?”
She didn’t answer, and his blue eyes continued to watch her every reaction. She released the heavy curtain of hair, and it rippled back against her neck. Her mouth was grim, her eyes sad.
“My father still lives there. But we’re estranged. He’s an alcoholic.”
Charlie was surprised by her bluntly spoken admission. So far, she’d been very closemouthed. He’d never expected her to open up to him this much. Especially after the way he’d kissed her. She’d really been put out over that, and he hoped she was a woman who could forget easily. The last thing he wanted was to have her thinking he had designs on her.
Hell, he didn’t want or need any woman, Charlie told himself. To get tangled up with a widow and her child would be crazy. True, he shouldn’t have kissed her. But it had been an impulsive thing on his part. He had no intention of repeating it.
“What about your mother? Is she still in Georgia?”
Violet’s gaze dropped to her lap. To this day it hurt to remember her mother was gone, that she could no longer pick up the phone and hear her gentle voice or walk into a room and see her smile. Betty Wilson had been a hardworking, sensible woman whose only fault had been loving her family too much.
“My mother died about ten years ago. She had heart disease and needed a transplant, but we were poor and had no way to raise the money. Some of the local townspeople eventually tried to help by putting on fundraisers. We’d finally gathered enough together to get Mother’s name put on a waiting list, but it was too late.”
Her mother had died and left her with an alcoholic father. God, how fortunate he’d been to have had two wonderful parents all these years, Charlie told himself. “Do you have siblings?” he asked.
“No. I was an adopted child.”
An emotion he couldn’t describe settled over him like the chill of a misty cloud, and Charlie wished he’d kept his question to himself. He’d often feared being a lawman was hardening him, making him indifferent. A lawman couldn’t take all the ugly things he saw to heart. He had to remain impersonal or he’d go insane. So why was he getting a need to make things better for Violet O’Dell? Because he was still trying to atone for Lupé’s death. Well as far as he was concerned nothing would ever do that.
Unsettled by his thoughts, he rose from the chair, paced across the length of the porch, then came back to stand in front of Violet. “I overheard you and Sam talking earlier when he was in the bathtub,” he said. “You don’t really have a certain place to go to, do you?”
She plucked at the hem of her shorts, and Charlie’s eyes were drawn to
He grunted with mocking disbelief. “You were just whining earlier that you had to find a job to get enough money to fix your car. You’re lying if you say you don’t want money. Everybody wants it.”
She took a deep breath and tried not to let his attitude rile her. Even though this man was perturbing, he was helping her. She had to keep that uppermost in her mind. “You work as a Ranger just for the money?”
“It’s a job. It’s the way I pay my bills.”
Once again he’d avoided answering her question about his feelings on being a lawman. But Violet wasn’t going to point this out to him. The fact that he was so closed on the subject told her far more than he realized. Charlie Pardee wasn’t an altogether contented man.
She didn’t make any sort of reply, and after several minutes of awkward silence had passed, Charlie glanced at her.
“Have you ever lived in California?” From the drawl in her voice, he very much doubted it. But it was possible she’d been there for a brief time. Why he was curious, he didn’t know.
Violet shook her head. “I was raised in Georgia and lived there until I married my late husband and moved to Texas. I grew up where cotton and peanuts were raised.”
“You don’t...have family there now?”
She didn’t answer, and his blue eyes continued to watch her every reaction. She released the heavy curtain of hair, and it rippled back against her neck. Her mouth was grim, her eyes sad.
“My father still lives there. But we’re estranged. He’s an alcoholic.”
Charlie was surprised by her bluntly spoken admission. So far, she’d been very closemouthed. He’d never expected her to open up to him this much. Especially after the way he’d kissed her. She’d really been put out over that, and he hoped she was a woman who could forget easily. The last thing he wanted was to have her thinking he had designs on her.
Hell, he didn’t want or need any woman, Charlie told himself. To get tangled up with a widow and her child would be crazy. True, he shouldn’t have kissed her. But it had been an impulsive thing on his part. He had no intention of repeating it.
“What about your mother? Is she still in Georgia?”
Violet’s gaze dropped to her lap. To this day it hurt to remember her mother was gone, that she could no longer pick up the phone and hear her gentle voice or walk into a room and see her smile. Betty Wilson had been a hardworking, sensible woman whose only fault had been loving her family too much.
“My mother died about ten years ago. She had heart disease and needed a transplant, but we were poor and had no way to raise the money. Some of the local townspeople eventually tried to help by putting on fundraisers. We’d finally gathered enough together to get Mother’s name put on a waiting list, but it was too late.”
Her mother had died and left her with an alcoholic father. God, how fortunate he’d been to have had two wonderful parents all these years, Charlie told himself. “Do you have siblings?” he asked.
“No. I was an adopted child.”
An emotion he couldn’t describe settled over him like the chill of a misty cloud, and Charlie wished he’d kept his question to himself. He’d often feared being a lawman was hardening him, making him indifferent. A lawman couldn’t take all the ugly things he saw to heart. He had to remain impersonal or he’d go insane. So why was he getting a need to make things better for Violet O’Dell? Because he was still trying to atone for Lupé’s death. Well as far as he was concerned nothing would ever do that.
Unsettled by his thoughts, he rose from the chair, paced across the length of the porch, then came back to stand in front of Violet. “I overheard you and Sam talking earlier when he was in the bathtub,” he said. “You don’t really have a certain place to go to, do you?”
She plucked at the hem of her shorts, and Charlie’s eyes were drawn to
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