The Way to Texas. Liz Talley

stitched up there several times during his dirt-bike-racing days as a teen. He’d have to navigate late-afternoon traffic.

      “Oh, God, something’s wrong, Dawn. Something’s wrong,” Nellie moaned. Her arms locked against the dash of his truck and her frantic breaths sounded louder than any he’d ever heard. It scared him shitless, but he didn’t want her to know.

      “Just a few more miles, Nellie,” he said, angling the air-conditioner vent toward her. Sweat streamed down her face.

      Dawn cajoled, murmuring encouraging words as she wiped Nellie’s brow with some napkins from McDonald’s she’d found in his glove box.

      After minutes of passing hilly Texas countryside, Tyson saw the first smattering of Longview businesses—a gas station, a place with shiny tractors out front and a fast-food restaurant. Reaching the edge of town didn’t help his anxiety level because as they passed the city-limit sign, his passenger screamed, “Oh, my God! It’s ripping me apart.”

      Tyson pressed the accelerator all the way to the floorboard when he saw Nellie’s knees spring into the air. The old truck leaped forward as the cell phone sitting on the dashboard rang.

      Dawn looked busy. He didn’t really want to know what she was doing, since all he could see was Nellie’s white thigh. He heard Dawn chant “Oh, shit…oh, shit…oh, shit,” so he grabbed the phone and flipped it open.

      “Hey, sis, what’s going on? You sounded weird.”

      “Uh, Jack, this is—”

      “Who’s this?” the voice erupted from the phone.

      “Listen. This is Tyson Hart—”

      “Who? Where’s my sister?”

      “Shut up,” Tyson growled into the phone, as Nellie let out another screech. “I’m driving your wife to the hospital. Get in your vehicle and get your ass to Longview. Now.”

      Tyson clicked the phone shut because a red light was about fifty yards in front of him. The truck swerved over the center lane as Dawn’s round butt connected with his arm, and he threw the phone onto the dashboard then applied the brakes.

      “Almost there. Jack’s on his way.”

      “Hear that, Nellie?” Dawn’s voice sounded soothing, “Jack is on his way and we’re here. You’re doing great, honey. Just hold on a little longer.”

      The litany of her voice calmed him. And he felt as twitchy as a man who’d been in lockdown for a month. He searched for a hospital sign, but all he saw were blinking signs advertising pawnshops and Laundromats. Finally he found the blue H symbol and followed the arrow toward 259 North.

      More panting, more cursing and more sweating ensued before the three-story white rectangle emerged on the horizon like the Holy Grail of hospitals. Tyson hit the emergency-room drive like a race car driver hit the pit. He likely left two long tire marks when he skidded to a halt.

      “Go get somebody,” Dawn said, sliding herself nearly across his lap as she turned around in the seat toward Nellie. She didn’t have to tell him twice. Nellie’s knees were bent and her skirt hiked high.

      A woman in scrubs met him at the swooshing doors. Her face held a mixture of annoyance and concern. She held an unsmoked cigarette in her hand.

      “I need a stretcher or wheelchair,” he said, looking over her head at the open entrance. “If you don’t hurry, she’s going to have that baby in my pickup.”

      The woman sprang into action, first pocketing her cigarette, next calling into the doorway, “Cheryl!”

      For a moment, Tyson simply stood and took a deep breath, taking in the aroma of hot asphalt and burning leaves. He wanted to reach into the nurse’s pocket and grab her cigarette and fire it up. But he had quit smoking when he’d quit drinking the hard stuff.

      Another woman in scrubs appeared with a stretcher. She rolled it toward his truck, lowered it in one movement, then helped the other woman ease Nellie onto it. Dawn held her sister-in-law’s shoulders and still talked soothingly into her ear. Nellie’s face was streaked with tears. His eyes held her face because he would not, could not look down at where her knees still seemed to be parted.

      One of the nurses pulled a sheet over Nellie’s knees and he blew out a sigh of relief.

      They rolled past him and Dawn caught his eye. “I’m going with her. Will you stay and bring Jack when he gets here?”

      He nodded and, oddly enough, her shoulders sank with what he imagined to be relief. “Let me park the truck and I’ll be right in.”

      He watched for a moment as she followed the stretcher into the E.R. Her silk blouse clung to her back and her once crisp pants held more wrinkles than an old circus elephant. But something about Dawn made him want to take a deep breath, one of those deep cleansing breaths that chased away shadows and cobwebs.

      Then again, something about her made him want to sink into her, claim her as his own. A visceral, animalistic reaction—one he’d not had in a while. Her long tan arms and dark tresses were made for wrapping round a man, and her soulful dark eyes hinted at a sensuality he wanted to explore.

      Which was a bad idea all around.

      He was in Oak Stand to start a new life. After a rotten marriage and a rocky relationship with his daughter, he needed a clean slate. No need to muddy things by lusting after the sexiest thing he’d seen in months. That would be beyond stupid.

      Tyson climbed into his old pickup, noting that the Texas dust made his truck’s silver paint look dirty gray. A few empty coffee cups from a gas station still sat in the cupholders and he needed to sweep out the gum wrappers that had fallen to the dusty floormats. Thank God, Nellie hadn’t had her baby in here.

      He parked near a group of medical offices and headed toward the hospital. Just as he crossed the landscaped path two things happened.

      First, Dawn emerged from the open E.R., her smile radiant, her eyes dancing. She opened her mouth and yelled, “It’s a girl!”

      Second, a huge F250 roared into the parking lot with a Longview police cruiser following. Blue lights flashed, tires squealed and a disheveled dark-haired man sprang from the truck and flew toward the E.R.

      Jack Darby had finally reached Longview.

      In record time, no doubt.

      CHAPTER THREE

      DAWN WATCHED AS NELLIE stroked the face of her newborn daughter and remembered the first time she’d held her own son. Only a little fuzzy hair was visible above the tightly bound blanket.

      “Can you believe it’s a girl?” Nellie said, smiling serenely, not taking her eyes from the bundle in her arms. She softened her voice and murmured to the baby.

      “And all this time we were calling you a boy. So sorry, sweet girl.”

      Dawn smiled at her sister-in-law, feeling both incredibly happy and exhausted. Amazingly, her headache had disappeared. “I can’t believe a lot of things that happened today.”

      Jack rubbed a hand over his face as he peered at Nellie and the baby. “You think she’s going to cause this sort of a ruckus all the time?”

      Jack seemed to have permanent shock etched on his face, and she wondered if he might have acquired a few gray hairs over the past hour. It would serve her too-handsome brother right. With Nellie having been so close to her due date, the man should have had his cell phone plastered to his hand. Instead he’d left it in his truck. Luckily, he’d been at a farm just outside Longview when he’d found out Nellie was en route to the hospital.

      “No,” Dawn said, walking over to the stretcher. She looked down at the red-faced baby sleeping peacefully after her traumatic entry into the world. “She’s going to be the sun rising and setting for you, little brother.”

      Jack’s face emoted