Madison's Children. Linda Warren

she was in his face, demanding answers and wanting the good to shine through in this situation. He’d dealt with Earl Grubbs before, and the man didn’t have an up-close-and-personal relationship with good. How did he explain that to her, though?

      “I’ll do what I can” was all he could say. But he was going to make sure Earl got the message this time.

      “That’s it?” She arched an eyebrow that spoke volumes.

      Against his will, his eyes swept over her. Her soft curves were emphasized in the tight jeans and western shirt. Her blond hair had come loose from its ponytail and hung enchantingly around an angel face perfect in every way—smooth, gorgeous skin, pouty lips with a sexy curve and an expression of wholesomeness minimized by pure, come-hither blue eyes. Exactly what every man would want in his Christmas stocking.

      He put brakes on his thoughts and took a long breath. “Ms. Belle, I appreciate your concern, but now I’m taking my kids home.” He opened the door and went inside with her on his heels like a pit bull.

      Hearing voices, he headed in that direction. Haley and Ginny sat at the table eating cookies. Etta Johns was watching them.

      Haley looked up and saw him. “Daddy,” she said in a guilty voice.

      “Let’s go. Where’s Georgie?” He tried to keep his voice calm, but it came out as stern, probably a side effect caused by Ms. Belle.

      Haley rose to her feet, her movements nervous. Her eyes were like his, but her hair was blond like her mother’s. Her jeans and knit top hung on her thin body. His daughter had a nervous stomach, and he didn’t know how to make her eat without getting sick. The divorce had hit Haley hard, and he wanted to make her world happy again. Maybe with a little of Madison Belle’s good.

      He didn’t know how to accomplish that, since his daughter seemed to hate him and blame him for Trisha leaving. His gut twisted a little more each time he looked into her anguished face.

      “He’s outside with Miss Dorie.”

      “I’ll get him,” Madison said. In a minute she was back with Georgie in her arms, Miss Dorie behind her.

      Madison was talking softly to him and Georgie was smiling. Walker was mesmerized by the picture of Madison’s face close to Georgie’s. She seemed so natural with a child in her arms.

      “Daddy,” Georgie shouted when he spotted him. He wiggled free from Madison and ran to him. Lifting his son into his arms, he held him tight. His daughter might hate him, but Georgie didn’t. He was grateful for that small miracle.

      “Daddy, I saw a bull,” Georgie said, his eyes bright. “A big bull.” He stretched out his arms as far as they would go.

      “You did?”

      Georgie nodded. “I ’cared of him.”

      “He won’t hurt you,” Madison assured him.

      “Is he talking about Solomon?” he asked Madison.

      “Yes.” She smiled, and his heart kicked against his ribs with the force of a wild bronco. “He’s getting so big.”

      Walker had been there the day Caitlyn had brought Solomon home. Back then, Cait and Judd were at odds. High Five and the Southern Cross ranches were adjoined, and Cait’s bull was always jumping the fence to get to Judd’s registered cows. Eventually, one of Judd’s cows gave birth and died shortly after. When Cait saw the calf, she realized it was from her bull and took it home. Walker felt sure there would be a fight over the calf, but Judd had allowed Cait to keep it. That’s when he knew Judd had finally forgiven Caitlyn.

      The last time he saw the calf, Madison was cooing at it as if it were a child. Somehow he knew she’d make a pet of him.

      He forced his eyes away from the light in hers. “Let’s go,” he said, and glanced at Ginny. “I’ll take you home, too. I want to talk to your father.”

      “You can’t take her there.” Haley scrunched up her face in anger. “He hits her.”

      “I’ll take care of it.”

      “No, you won’t. You just want to get rid of us.” Everything in him screamed at his daughter’s attitude, but he was powerless to change it. God knows he’d tried.

      “Don’t talk back,” he said, “and thank Ms. Belle for any inconvenience.”

      “Thank you,” Haley mumbled, grabbing her jacket and running toward the front door.

      He slowly followed with Georgie and Ginny. Outside they came to an abrupt stop. A young black Brahma bull stood on the stone sidewalk. Haley seemed frozen.

      Madison ran around them and grabbed the bull’s halter. “Solomon.” She stroked his face. “You’re scaring our guests.” The bull rubbed his face against her and a deep guttural sound left his throat.

      The thought crossed Walker’s mind that if she stroked him like that, he might make that sound, too.

      “It’s okay,” she called. “He won’t hurt you.”

      Haley and Ginny made a wide circle around him. Walker stepped close to Madison. “You know, a bull is not a pet. He’s male—all day, every day, and potentially dangerous.”

      Her eyes locked with his. “Yes. I know what you mean.”

      He had a feeling she wasn’t talking about the bull.

      CHAPTER THREE

      WALKER TURNED ONTO THE DIRT road that led to the Grubbs’s trailer house. No one spoke. He glanced toward the backseat and saw Georgie was asleep. Haley leaned in close to him, always there, always protective of her baby brother. But her face was a mask of pain.

      How was he going to reconcile with his daughter?

      “Mr. Walker.” Ginny turned to him in the front seat. “You can let me out here. I’ll walk the rest of the way. I’ll tell my dad I missed the bus.”

      “Sorry, Ginny. I need to talk to Earl.”

      “Why, Daddy?” Haley asked in her usual angry tone. “It’s only going to cause trouble.”

      “Mr. Walker…”

      “Trust me, girls.”

      “Yeah, right.” He heard Haley mutter under her breath.

      He ran a hand over the steering wheel, feeling lower than sludge. Neither girl had any faith in his abilities to defuse a potentially dangerous situation. He’d have to show them. This time Earl was getting the full brunt of his anger.

      Pulling into the lane that led to the Grubbs’s place, he made to get out and open the aluminum gate covered with chicken wire.

      “I’ll get it, Mr. Walker,” Ginny said, and hopped out.

      Earl raised goats, pigs and chickens. They were all over the cluttered yard. Ginny shooed chickens and goats away so she could open the gate.

      He drove through, and Ginny quickly got back in the car. The old trailer was straight ahead. Not a blade of grass grew in the dirt yard. The aluminum siding was rusted in spots, and the screens were missing. A makeshift porch attached to the front looked ready to collapse. In stained overalls and a discolored flannel shirt, Earl lounged in a chair propped against the trailer. He was raising a jug to his lips. Walker knew it was homemade wine. And good was nowhere in sight.

      Earl could be a decent-enough guy when he was sober, but those occasions were very rare. He had an aversion to getting a job, and he blamed God, the government, neighbors and anyone who came within his vision for his poverty.

      Walker glanced at Haley. “Stay in the car with your brother.”

      “Like I want to get out” was her clipped response.

      Walker opened his door and the stench from the pigpen filled his nostrils.