Twice a Texas Bride by Linda Broday Page B

stepfather had been, the way he’d railed at everyone.
    Looking back now, she realized the reason he’d fought the delay had been because he intended to marry Liza as soon as possible. That meant he’d known the socialite months, maybe even a year, before his wife died.
    And he’d had the nerve to chastise and lock Callie in the basement for three days for letting Marcus Wolfforth kiss her after he’d given that louse Andrew Jameson permission to come courting. Fury swept through her.
    She ran to her room and jerked on the coat that Rand had bought. She had to find her mother’s grave. She wouldn’t waste another second.
    Marching to the barn, she stopped to gather Toby. “Let’s go for a walk.”
    â€œWhere to?” The boy squinted up at her.
    Callie’s breath caught in her throat. He was the spitting image of Nate Fleming, right down to the same mannerisms. Even had his father’s way of walking. Toby would be very handsome one day.
    Dear God, just don’t let him be an outlaw.
    Rand leaned against the side of the barn, watching. Though the breeze carried a chill, he’d removed his jacket and now wiped beads of sweat from his forehead. The muscles in his upper arms strained his shirt.
    Riveted by the sight of both boy and rancher, she struggled to get her thoughts back on track. “Exploring. Who knows what we might find. At the least we’ll have an adventure.”
    â€œCan Biscuit come?”
    â€œAbsolutely. I’ll bet she’s an expert at finding hidden things.”
    â€œDon’t go too far,” Rand cautioned in a low voice. “I’ve noticed a lot of mountain-lion tracks lately.”
    â€œThanks. We’ll stay close.”
    Toby laid down the hammer and they set off. A faint recollection of the house being visible from the gravesite gave her the general vicinity. While they trekked through the trees, she kept a sharp eye out for predators, both the wild and the outlaw kind.
    Again, relying on an eight-year-old’s faded memory proved quite a task. She’d scoured several areas before Toby accidentally stumbled over it. With a cry, he landed face-first in a pile of dead leaves and dank earth. She brushed him off while Biscuit licked his face as though checking for injuries.
    Though Edmund Powers had promised to put a headstone on the grave, the only thing marking it was the cross fashioned from rocks that she and Claire had laid on top of the burial spot.
    Tears pricked her eyes and trickled down her cheeks. Her mother deserved more than to be forgotten and betrayed by a faithless husband.
    Kneeling, she ran her hands lovingly over the crude marker.
    Toby stood watching. “Ma’am? Why are you sad? It’s only some dumb ol’ rocks.”
    Callie wished she could explain, but the youngster wasn’t old enough to understand yet that his grandmother’s bones lay beneath the soil. She smiled up at Toby. “I know, but they’re arranged in a pretty cross.”
    â€œWho did it?”
    â€œYour mother and I.”
    â€œShe did? Why?”
    â€œTo mark the spot so we could find it.” Callie got to her feet and draped an arm around the boy’s shoulders.
    â€œI’m sad too,” Toby said. “I miss Mama.”
    Callie kissed the top of his head. “So do I.”
    â€œAunt Callie, why do people have to die, anyway?”
    â€œI wish I knew. I wish I knew.” A strangled sob rose.
    Then the brush rustled. Something was coming into the small clearing.
    Her heart pounded as she looked around for a weapon.
    â€œGet behind me, Toby.” She pushed him away from the danger, though a mountain lion would make quick work of her and get him anyway. Still, she’d give her all to protect him.
    Relief swept through her when Rand emerged from the thicket with a rifle.
    She turned and brushed away the lingering tears before she faced him.
    â€œGot worried about you,” he