The Texan's Return. Karen Whiddon

on with their lives. He doubted anyone would even remember him, never mind consider holding him accountable for what they believed his father had done.

      While the real killer, the monster who’d attacked Brenda Green and strangled her, had gotten away scot-free.

      Though beautiful flowers adorned Hailey’s neat home, his place looked old, beat and barren. With all the major repairs he had to make to get the place livable, he knew he wouldn’t get around to doing anything cosmetic for a good while.

      Letting himself into the small house, he followed the scent of bleach mixed with medicine. His father sat up in the bed, valiantly trying to eat while Dolores, the hospice nurse, looked on and quietly encouraged him.

      Mac had read volumes on pancreatic cancer. He knew the progression of the disease would make it increasingly difficult for his father to eat.

      “Son.” Spying Mac, Gus motioned him over.

      Mac pulled up a chair next to the bed. “How’re you feeling, Dad?”

      “Like hell.” A ghost of a smile flitted over the older man’s face. Since he’d lost weight, his skin hung loose on too-sharp bones.

      Mac’s chest squeezed. “I’m sorry.”

      Shaking his head, Gus waved away his words. He glanced at Dolores—a curly-haired older woman with thick eyeglasses—and winked. “Dolores, do you mind taking a break? I want a private word with my son.”

      “Of course.” Dolores stood. “I need to stretch my legs anyway. I’ll be outside if you need me.”

      Gus waited until the front door had closed behind her. “I need one more favor from you, Mac. I’m sorry, because I swore I wouldn’t ask for more than you’ve already given me. But I can’t die with this stain on our good name.” He took a deep breath, then erupted in a short bout of coughing.

      Waiting, Mac had a feeling he knew exactly what his father was about to say. He couldn’t say he blamed him; he’d want the same thing if their positions were reversed.

      “Find out who really killed that girl,” Gus finally rasped. “You know I didn’t do it. Clear my name before I pass away. Could you do that for me, son?”

      How could he not? Slowly, Mac nodded. He’d actually been expecting this request. Of course, his father had no idea that Mac had been trying to find the real killer without success for ten long years. “Sure,” he said, his chest aching. “I’ll get started immediately.”

      It was the first time he’d lied to his father since he’d been a teenager.

      * * *

      Mac’s return was all Hailey could think about. Though he probably didn’t remember, the anniversary of Brenda’s murder was one day away. At first, they’d marked this date with somber visits to the grave, bearing flowers. They’d done a few interviews, skirting the deep emotions, vocalizing how glad they were that the killing hadn’t continued.

      After a few years, they’d begun pretending the day didn’t exist. Hailey had tried to keep up the tradition by taking the kids to visit a sister they didn’t even remember, but June had finally told her tiredly to stop.

      Now, Hailey would mark the anniversary with a quiet prayer. June would do her best to stay drunk, beginning the moment she opened her eyes until she passed out, oblivious to both pain and memories. This year, her mother had started early.

      Hailey did her usual chores while her mother slept off her drinking binge. At least she’d come home this time. Someone had dropped her off, and she’d staggered into the house right before Hailey got up to begin the day. This was infinitely preferable over getting a call in the middle of the night asking Hailey to pick up June at the Legacy police station. As long as she didn’t drive, the officers remained sympathetic toward her. The woman’s daughter had been murdered after all. No one could blame her for turning to alcohol to drown her sorrows.

      Except Hailey did. She understood grieving—heck, she’d grieved over her baby sister’s loss, too. But June had other children. Eli had just turned one when Brenda died and the twins were four. June had let her seventeen-year-old daughter shoulder the responsibility for her entire family. Hailey had needed her to be strong, especially after her stepdad-slash-adoptive father, Aaron—the younger kids’ birth father—had taken off. He’d given both Brenda and Hailey his name, but little else. As far as Hailey knew, he and June had never actually divorced, but he certainly didn’t pay child support or make any effort to see his kids.

      Or—and she winced at the thought—if he did sporadically, June drank the money away.

      Hailey blinked, realizing she’d been standing near the sink staring blindly, the task at hand forgotten. Seeing Mac again had made her lose track of the present and revisit the past. Since the past couldn’t be changed, Hailey believed in moving forward. She tried not to dwell on things that would make her sad. After all, she had her life to live and enough responsibility for two twenty-seven-year-olds.

      Speaking of responsibility, right at this moment it meant boiling noodles to mix with tuna and peas for their dinner tonight. She shook her head at her own foolishness and got back to peeling carrots, cutting them before adding them to the broth.

      In a few hours, she’d leave to go pick up Eli from elementary school and then Tom and Tara from middle school. Their mother might or might not wake up to eat supper, but Hailey would take her a plate anyway.

      After dinner, Hailey would help her younger siblings with their homework, and later they’d all watch some television. She’d monitor their internet usage, a fact of life that totally irked the fourteen-year-old twins, though not nearly as much as the fact that they still had dial-up since they couldn’t afford broadband, and later tuck them into bed with a kiss.

      Despite being their older sister, she did everything her mother should have done but wasn’t capable of.

      Again she thought of Mac and his father. Mac had never believed in Gus’s guilt, even when a jury had convicted him. Too bad Mac couldn’t have seen what Brenda’s murder had done to her family. Luckily, Hailey had been strong enough to pick up the pieces. She’d been determined to give her brothers and sister the best, most normal life possible, even if doing so meant sacrificing her own.

      Now that the kids had gotten older, Hailey had begun taking an occasional class at the junior college the next town over. She paid for this—and for the kids’ essentials—by operating her own resume business, walking the neighbors’ dogs, cleaning houses during school hours, taking in laundry and ironing, running errands for elderly shut-ins, basically picking up any work she could. She also tried to make sure to get her mother’s disability check before the woman could drink it all away. They weren’t rich by any means, but Hailey made sure the children were fed and clean and, most important, loved.

      If she sometimes longed for a life of her own outside of tiny Legacy, Texas, she didn’t allow herself to wallow in self-pity for long. She simply had too much to do.

      She didn’t date, unwilling and unable to divide her time any further. Plus, she didn’t need the complications having a boyfriend would bring. Her busy life had settled into a sort of static routine that felt normal and safe.

      Except today... Seeing Mac on her doorstep made her feel alive in a way she hadn’t for years. Ten, to be exact. She found this both terrifying and exhilarating.

      Of course, she wouldn’t be seeing him again. Just because he’d moved back to Legacy didn’t mean they’d be running into each other all the time. Nothing was going to change.

      Maybe if she told herself that often enough, she’d come to actually believe it.

       Chapter 2

      After a restless night, Mac abandoned any attempt at sleeping and got up with the sun. He showered and dressed, then quietly padded into the kitchen to make coffee and a pan of oatmeal. He