A Texas Ranger's Family. Mae Nunn

      Daniel tilted the lamp shade toward the wall so the low light it cast wouldn’t disturb Erin’s nap. Thick crew socks muffled his steps toward the metal bed frame. He was pleased LaVerne had thought to set up the hospital rental on the spacious sun porch he’d built last fall.

      He gave in to the urge to study her face, attributing his curiosity to years of surveillance work that made it second nature. Her skin was clear, but too tanned and weathered for only thirty-four. Her short auburn hair was sleek and seasoned with occasional flecks of silver. Thick lashes fringed her closed eyes and a handful of freckles were her only adornment apart from an application of Dana’s tinted lip balm.

      From the few photos of Erin he’d found on the Internet, it seemed she still didn’t wear much makeup or dress in a manner that would draw attention. Too early in life she’d mastered the ability to blend into the background so she wouldn’t be noticed. He figured that served her well as she waited, still as a fence post, for the right moment to take her photographs. From what he’d witnessed of her career over the years, she was bold to the point of being foolhardy, getting shots others couldn’t manage or wouldn’t attempt.

      It was no surprise to Daniel that she’d won so many awards. In a way he was actually proud Erin had made a life for herself, but that made it doubly difficult to deny Dana’s growing need to know something, anything about her mama.

      As Erin’s reputation grew, he was almost glad for the terms of the letter she’d left behind in their one-bedroom Austin apartment. She admitted she’d made a terrible mistake in believing she could have a normal life and didn’t dare stay another night. Anonymity was all she asked and in exchange she gave up what he wanted more than his own life.

      Their child.

      At the time, Daniel had no choice but to live with the deal. He’d known Erin was emotionally damaged, but thought he could love her back to health. He’d been wrong. She’d signed and returned the legal papers giving him full custody. Then she’d changed her last name, and for the past sixteen years Erin had been what her daughter could never be. Invisible.

      Daniel almost convinced himself that they wouldn’t have made it as a family, anyway. Erin had been deeply wounded too early in life. Over the years he’d uncovered what she’d hidden about her past and often felt he knew too much.

      If all the secrets, his included, ever spilled out of his tight grip, what a devastating mess it might be. He was playing Russian roulette by allowing her into the life he’d painstakingly built for himself and Dana. But what choice did he have?

      “Daddy, what are you doing in here?” Dana whispered as she crept up behind him.

      “Checking to see that everything’s okay.” He adjusted Erin’s IV pole a quarter inch to the right.

      “She’s pretty, isn’t she?” Dana asked.

      He slipped his arm around her shoulders and looked down into eyes that expected confirmation but needed reassurance.

      “Just like you, baby girl.”

      “What are y’all up to?” LaVerne hissed from the doorway.

      Dana waved her grandmother over and allowed herself to be sandwiched as they stood arm in arm voluntarily for the first time in their lives.

      Daniel offered a silent plea. Lord, I sure hope You know what You’re doing here.

      

      The three people Erin saw standing beside her bed were linked in a typical Christmas card pose. Artificial and forced. Family in its “natural” state. She sent up a prayer.

      Lord, I put this all behind me years ago. What is Your purpose in dragging me back? I lost consciousness in one battle zone and regained it in another. I hope You know what You’re doing here.

      “Hey, you’re awake.” Dana was the first to notice.

      “And hungry,” Erin replied. She hated dropping such an obvious hint but the flow of conditioned air from the kitchen, positioned next to the solarium, was pulling a mouthwatering aroma right beneath her nose.

      “Well, it’s probably not as exotic as what you’re used to, but it’s one of Daniel’s favorite meals. Round steak, corn, mashed potatoes and gravy.” There was pride in LaVerne’s voice. The woman was crazy about her son.

      “If by exotic you mean an MRE, I’ll stand in your chow line any day.”

      “MRE?”

      “Meals Ready to Eat. ‘Yummy’ freeze-dried military rations,” Erin explained to Dana, glad for a safe subject. “Believe it or not, they’re pretty decent but I prefer a camel kabob when I can get one.”

      “Eeeeeuuuuuuuuu!” Dana’s face squinted in disgust. “You’ve eaten camel?”

      “Does it taste like chicken?” Daniel asked.

      “Not even close,” she answered. “It tastes like…camel. Really tough and gamy unless you can get a cut from the hump where the meat is less sinewy.”

      “I don’t know about any camel’s hump but I’ve got supper in the kitchen from a cow’s rump, so let’s eat.” LaVerne headed toward the door. “Dana, I need you to set the table pronto, and no back talk.”

      Dana noted her father’s better-do-as-she-says shrug and left the room.

      “Would you like a tray in here?” he offered. “It might be too much for you to come to the table tonight, but it’s your call.”

      Hmm…Stay in here alone while they talk about me or join them in the dining room while they watch my every move. Either way, I’m a big loser who needs somebody to cut my meat.

      As tempting as it sounded to hide out on the lovely glass-enclosed porch, it was time to get started. Erin justified her agreement to join them in Houston as part of her rehab strategy. She’d made up her mind to look at every task as therapy. The sooner she could function on her own, the sooner she could get back to active duty. Behind the camera lens where she could record the lives of others. It was so much safer than engaging in the messy stuff herself.

      “I’d like to eat with the rest of you, if it’s all right.”

      “Yeah, sure. Just let me get the wheelchair ready.” He started to turn away, too much of a gentleman to answer any differently.

      “Daniel.” Erin lowered her voice so the others wouldn’t hear. “Thank you for allowing me into your home. I know this is as difficult for you as it is for me, and I promise as soon as I can physically manage on my own, I’ll get out of your life.”

      “It’s Dana’s life I’m worried about, not mine and not yours. I agreed to have you here for her benefit. Stay as long as you need to and don’t leave before you’re ready.” He glanced toward the door, took a step closer and lowered his voice, as well. “But when you’re ready, you’re leaving alone. Understand?”

      “Perfectly.”

      His narrowed eyes said he meant business. And who could blame him.

      “Dad, if we have leftovers, will you make potato pancakes for breakfast before church?” Dana pleaded from the other room where she plunked dishes and flatware on a tabletop.

      “Church?”

      Dana had talked a lot about their church home. They knew everybody and attending a service would put Erin on display. She was going to have to pass on the very first opportunity to work on mobility.

      “Of course,” Daniel answered. He leaned close but waited for her nod to signal permission before sliding supportive arms beneath her knees and the small of her back and lifting without effort. As he settled her into the chair and folded a gosh-awful-looking crocheted thing over her lap, his moss-green eyes locked with hers.

      “And don’t even think about beggin’ off. This family worships together. And whether either one of