The Wrong Woman. Linda Warren

ill. Not long, she supposed. She didn’t regret her decision.

      All her waking hours and many fretful nights were spent thinking of ways to make money. She used her talent as an artist to get a contract with a local greeting-card company, but it took a long time to receive her payments. She also painted portraits. Children were her specialty and she had a number of commissions lined up, but it still wasn’t enough to meet the bills. They would make it, though, she vowed.

      She entered her grandparents’ room and stopped for a moment. There were pictures of her all over. The decor was done in different shades of blue, from deep cobalt to baby blue. The bedspread and drapes were a floral chintz, as were the cushions in various chairs. As a child, she’d called this the blue room, and it was her favorite place. Each morning when she woke up, she’d run across the hall to her grandparents’ room and jump into their bed, snuggling between them. So much love, so much happiness… She choked back a sob. She’d wondered many times how her grandfather could do this to them, how he could hide their financial reality, but she knew he’d done it out of love. And now she’d have to do the same thing.

      She crossed to the divan in the small sitting room and picked up her grandmother’s purse. She removed a key and walked to the dresser, where she opened her jewelry box. Among the jewels was a small wooden box. Serena popped the lid and stared at the diamond earrings lying on a bed of velvet. Her grandfather had given them to Aurora on their wedding day. They’d belonged to his mother and someday they’d belong to Serena. Jasmine was supposed to have worn them on her own wedding day, but at eighteen she’d eloped, to the heartbreak of Aurora and Henry, especially since they disapproved of her choice of husband. Jasmine became estranged from her parents soon after that. Then she and her husband were killed, and Aurora and Henry gladly took Serena.

      Serena didn’t know much about that time, and she knew nothing about her father. Her grandparents refused to even mention his name. They held him responsible for Jasmine’s death. Serena shook her head. She was getting sidetracked.

      She glanced down at the diamonds in her hand, remembering how Grandfather had told her she’d wear them at her wedding and her eyes would sparkle as bright as the diamonds. Well, the wedding was off and the only thing that made her eyes sparkle these days was tears.

      She took the diamonds across to her room and slipped them into her purse. She’d hock them and buy a fake set, replacing them so her grandmother wouldn’t know. Her eyesight was getting so bad she wouldn’t see the difference. As long as there were earrings in the box, she’d be satisfied. Gran didn’t wear them, anyway. She always wore the diamonds and pearls Grandfather had given her for their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. Serena turned and caught sight of herself in the mirror.

      Liar, thief, an unfamiliar red-haired woman seemed to say.

      She stepped closer to the mirror. Was that her? She had a desperate look about her that she didn’t recognize.

      Oh, God, she was stealing from her grandmother, but what else could she do? Losing the diamonds was better than losing their home, she tried telling the woman in the mirror. Then why did she feel like the lowest creature on earth?

      She sank onto the bed and refused to let sentiment drag her down. She had to do this for Gran and herself. She’d do anything to keep Aurora happy and comfortable—even lie and steal. No one was making them leave this house, not as long as she had breath in her body. And if she had a hard time looking at herself, she’d sell all the mirrors, too.

      She got up and went to fix lunch. In the doorway she paused and rested her forehead against the doorjamb. The weight of all her problems paralyzed her for a moment. Her grandfather had told her that behind every cloud was a rainbow…not that he acknowledged many clouds in his world. Oh, Grandfather, where’s my rainbow? She needed one—desperately. Just one tiny rainbow. And a handsome stranger with a heart of gold wouldn’t hurt, either. Suddenly Ethan Ramsey flashed into her mind and she thought of the stripper who looked like her. He didn’t seem to be a man who would lie. So was there a woman out there who looked like her? She let herself think about it for a moment. Since she didn’t know anything about her father, there could be a cousin who resembled her, someone she’d never heard of.

      She pulled Ethan Ramsey’s card from her pocket. He’d said he wanted to help her. It was probably a line, just as she’d told Daisy. What did it matter? She was wasting her time thinking about it; she had enough problems. On her way out the door, she threw the card in the trash.

      CHAPTER TWO

      DRIVING HOME, Ethan couldn’t get the redhead out of his mind. Was she an expert liar or was something else going on? The woman of the night before was afraid and had a hard edge that suggested she’d been living a rough lifestyle. He recognized that immediately. The woman today was a complete contradiction. She was softer and had a veneer and polish that came with wealth and privilege. If she was stripping against her will, that would account for the fear he’d seen yesterday, but it didn’t explain the hardness. What was the woman’s secret?

      As he drove across the cattle guard, dust spiraled behind him. He was home in Junction Flat, Texas, a small ranching community of less than a thousand near San Antonio. There was a saying in Junction Flat: “Don’t let the mesquite, the cactus and the rattlesnakes get to you. Junction Flat is a good place to live.” And it was—this was where Ethan had always gone when things got too hard, and he planned on staying here for the rest of his life.

      A few years ago Pop had given the ranch to his three children, with the stipulation that he be able to live on the property until his death. Molly and Travis didn’t have any interest in ranching and sold their shares to Ethan. So the entire ranch now belonged to Ethan, and he was content living out his retirement in his quiet, rustic hometown.

      Before he drove around back to the garage, he noticed Bruce’s Mercedes parked in front of the white sandstone house. He frowned, wondering why his ex-brother-in-law was here. Since the divorce, which was finalized two months ago, Bruce and Molly hadn’t spoken, as far as he knew. There was only one reason Bruce would come out here and face everyone—Cole, his seventeen-year-old son.

      When he climbed out of his truck and walked toward the house, he heard raised voices. As soon as he entered the kitchen, everyone grew quiet. Pop was holding Molly, who was sobbing into his chest. Cole was screaming at his father, “Get out and leave us alone!” When he saw Ethan, he said, “Make him leave, Uncle Ethan!”

      “Son, I just want to talk to you,” Bruce begged.

      “I never want to speak to you again.” With that, Cole turned and stormed out the back door.

      Ethan took a long breath. Bruce had a right to see his son, but Cole had refused to see or talk to Bruce since he’d found out about his father’s betrayal. His mother’s pain had only increased the boy’s feelings. The situation was volatile and emotions still ran high. It was time for everyone to cool off.

      Ethan looked at Bruce. “I think you’d better go,” he said firmly. He walked to the front door and held it open.

      Bruce’s features tightened and Ethan could see he was undecided, but at last made a sound of exasperation and headed for the front door. Ethan followed him out onto the long veranda

      “Ethan, I want to talk to my son.” Bruce shoved a hand through his blond hair. His eyes were green like Cole’s.

      As much as Ethan hated what Bruce had done to Molly, he understood his desire to see Cole. Cole was the innocent victim in Bruce and Molly’s divorce, and neither seemed willing to make it easier for him.

      “He just needs some time,” was the only thing Ethan could think of to say.

      “Molly’s turned him against me.”

      “Don’t lay that at Molly’s feet,” Ethan told him, although he knew it was partly true. “You’re the reason Cole’s upset. He’s old enough to know what’s going on.”

      “You’re a man, Ethan. I thought you’d understand.”

      Ethan grunted