On The Texas Border. Linda Warren

it would be with affection and the utmost care. Right now he was angry with her and she’d received the full brunt of that anger with several lashes from his tongue. But that was fine. She could give it right back to him.

      “I might be all those things, Ms. Duncan,” he said in that infuriating tone. “But I have enough sense to know a scam when I hear it. If you want to play games with Brewster, that’s your business. I’ve made my feelings clear on the whole situation and that’s all I have to say.” He turned into the September breeze and muttered, “’Night, ma’am,” as he walked away.

      Abby wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. Even though Jonas was angry with her, he still remembered his manners. She’d never met anyone like him before and she didn’t think she ever would again. She inhaled the cool night air. She was very curious about Jonas Parker. Why did he put up with Brewster’s ridicule and abuse? Why did he work for a man he seemed to hate? Mr. Brewster had said something about owning Jonas. What did that mean? Her reporter’s instinct was on full alert.

      “Oh, Jonas, you haven’t seen the last of me,” she whispered under her breath as she made her way to her car.

      WHEN ABBY GOT BACK to the house, she couldn’t sleep. She tossed and turned and kept staring at the clock. At six, she grabbed the phone and called Dallas. She had to talk to her friend Holly.

      “Hello,” a sleepy voice answered.

      “Holly, it’s Abby.”

      “Do you know what time it is?”

      “Yes, but you’re always up early.”

      “I was out late last night.”

      “Date or assignment?”

      “Assignment.”

      “I should have guessed.” Abby laughed.

      “What are you saying?”

      “I’m saying we’re both dedicated to our work.”

      “Yeah,” Holly said. “But there’s this new guy in accounting, and I’ve got my eye on him.” She yawned. “Why are you calling so early?”

      “I wanted to run something by you.”

      “Okay, but I’m not thinking too clearly just yet.”

      Abby and Holly had been friends since their freshman year in college, and later they had worked at the same newspaper, Abby as a reporter and Holly as a photographer. They lived in the same apartment complex and saw each other daily. Even after Abby had married, they remained close. Abby had told her about writing Mr. Brewster’s memoirs and Holly had understood because she knew how much Abby had loved her father. Now Abby explained to her friend Mr. Brewster’s odd request.

      “Wow,” Holly said. “This is totally out of the blue.”

      “Yes, but I’m going to do it,” Abby answered, then asked, “Do you think it’s crazy?”

      “Not for you. I know how desperately you want to clear your father’s name. Just be careful.”

      “I will, but Mr. Brewster thinks Jonas should go with me.”

      “The guy with the muscles and unfriendly attitude.”

      “That’s him—the man with ‘don’t touch’ written all over him.”

      “That’s the way you want it, isn’t it?”

      “Of course” was Abby’s quick response.

      “You’re not saying that with too much enthusiasm. Are you attracted to this man?”

      “Oh, please.” She started to deny it, then stopped. “Okay, I’ll admit there’s something there, but it’s purely sexual.”

      “So indulge. You’ve earned it.”

      “For heaven’s sake, Holly, are you still asleep or what?”

      “I must be or I’d never suggest such a thing, hmm?”

      They both laughed.

      “If you have to do this, do it, but as I said before, be very careful. And if Brewster wants Jonas to go along, let him. What could it hurt? And don’t give me that bull about not needing a man. Common sense overrules that notion.”

      “Oh, Holly, it’s so good to talk to you.”

      “So when are you coming back? Tanya’s getting ticked off at her workload and Phil asked if you might return early.”

      Phil was her editor. He’d granted her a six-week leave of absence, and Abby was going to need every day of that to resolve things in Hope.

      “I don’t think I can now, but I’ll call Phil and explain.”

      “Okay, and keep me posted on what’s happening.”

      “I will. Now go back to sleep.”

      “Yeah, right.”

      After Abby hung up, she sat staring into space. At least Holly understood why she had to do this. But a tiny doubt lurked in the back of her mind. Was she doing the right thing? Yes, for her father she had to do it. She knew Mr. Brewster was manipulating her. She didn’t need Jonas to tell her that. Still, she couldn’t let it go. She had to find out the truth.

      And now she had to find a way to tell her mother.

      CHAPTER THREE

      ABBY GOT UP and made her way to the kitchen. As she made coffee, her thoughts ran helter-skelter. Her mother would be upset. How should Abby handle this? Before she could form a plan, her mother walked into the kitchen in her pink flowered robe.

      “You’re up early,” Gail said, and poured a cup of coffee.

      “I couldn’t sleep,” Abby replied.

      Gail sat at the table. “You’re still not worried that Kyle might come here, are you?”

      Abby shook her head and took a seat. Kyle was the furthest thing from her mind. When she first returned home, she’d been afraid that he might follow her, but so far, nothing. Maybe Kyle had gotten on with his life. She hoped so because she had no intention of seeing him again.

      “I had this strange dream last night,” her mother was saying. “I thought I heard your car leaving and I tried to wake up, but I couldn’t. It seemed so real.”

      Abby squirmed in her chair. God, did her mother have mental telepathy or what? When she was sixteen, she and a friend had skipped school and driven to Brownsville to stand in line for tickets to a rock concert. Somehow her mother had known. The principal hadn’t called and notified her of Abby’s absence. Her mother just knew by looking at her face. Surely Abby had matured and learned how to hide those guilty feelings. Maybe not, she conceded. Maturity was no match for her mother’s intuition.

      She took a sip of coffee. “I did leave last night.”

      Her mother’s hand stopped in mid-motion as she stirred sugar into her coffee. “You did?”

      “Yes.”

      “Where did you go?”

      “To the hospital.”

      A worried look entered Gail’s eyes, and Abby hastened to reassure her. “No, there’s nothing wrong with me. Mr. Brewster had a heart attack, and a nurse at the hospital called and said he asked to see me.”

      “Oh.” Her mother leaned back. “I guess he wanted to give you some important details on his memoirs.”

      “No, it wasn’t about the memoirs.”

      “Then, why in the world would he want to see you in the middle of the night?”

      Abby fingered her cup. “Mom, do you ever remember hearing about Mr. Brewster having an affair?”

      “An