on Rebel Ranch. Do you know the Rebel family?”
“You could say that. I’m Egan Rebel.”
“Oh, are you Phoenix’s brother?”
“Yes.” It felt a little strange that she knew his family.
“He was in my class in school. He spiked the punch at one of my parties and got everyone drunk.”
“That’s Phoenix. The life of the party.”
“He was always fun to be around, but he was one of the wild boys the girls were told to stay away from. All the Rebel boys were known for that, but it didn’t keep the girls from talking about them or wanting to go out with them.”
“Did you want to go out with Phoenix?”
“No. He really was a little wild for me. I was timid in school.”
“That’s hard to believe.”
“It was twelve years ago. I’ve matured and now wild boys don’t scare me at all.” She scooted forward. “I’m Rachel...Rachel Hollister.”
Egan’s chest caved in. It took a moment before he could speak. She couldn’t be... No way. But he had to ask the question. “Are you Judge Hollister’s daughter?”
“Yes. Do you know my father?”
Egan was a mild-mannered man and hate didn’t come easily for him, but he hated Judge Hollister. The man had sent him to prison without any hard evidence. He’d sent him into the bowels of hell and Egan had barely escaped with his life. It seemed surreal that he was sitting here with his daughter. A daughter the man loved. For a brief moment he wondered how Judge Hollister would feel if he lost his daughter. Egan wanted him to feel some of the pain he’d felt.
Could he be the criminal Judge Hollister had branded him?
“I can’t sleep.” The woman twisted and turned.
“Just be still.”
“I’m trying, but the ground is so hard.” She sat up and untied the sweater from around her neck. Wadding it into a ball, she placed it on the duster and used it for a pillow. “That’s better.”
After a few minutes she grew still and Egan knew she was close to sleep. The temperature had dropped for the evening and it was cooler. She curled into a ball with her arms wrapped around her waist. He reached over, grabbed the end of the duster and pulled it over her legs so she wouldn’t be cold. When he did that, he knew he couldn’t harm one hair on her head. He wasn’t that type of man. No matter what Judge Hollister had done to him, he had no desire for revenge. At least, not that type of revenge.
“What time do you think it is?” she asked, surprising him.
“I thought you were asleep.”
“No. I’m just tired.”
“Rest, then.”
“Aren’t you going to sleep?”
“In a minute.”
She sat up. “It’s so dark and quiet, except for the crickets. It’s like I’m having a bad dream.”
Egan wrapped his arms around his knees. “Yeah.” If he closed his eyes, he could hear the shouts, the filthy cuss words, the goading and the ugly faces of evil. He’d thought he was tough, but he didn’t know tough until he had to stand toe-to-toe with hardened criminals.
“I feel so stupid,” she murmured.
“Why?” Her words brought him back from the abyss that always threatened to take him down.
“Because I’m a coward. I should have stayed on US 77 and I’d be home now, facing my past the way I was supposed to. The way I’d planned.”
“You have a past?” He couldn’t imagine what kind of a dire past a beautiful blonde could have.
“My parents spoiled me terribly.”
“Pardon me, but I don’t consider that a past.”
“If you’ll listen, I’ll tell you,” she snapped.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I love the way you say ma’am.”
“I say it like everybody else in Texas.”
“No, you say it with respect and I feel it.”
That threw him, so he just sat and stared at the blanket of twinkling stars and waited for her to speak.
“My mother was killed when I was seventeen.”
“I remember that. She was shot by gang members while walking to her car in a mall, right?”
“Yes. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time...all because of me.”
He knew he should stop with the questions. He didn’t want to get any more involved with her than he already was. But something in her voice prompted him to ask, “What did you have to do with it?”
She didn’t answer and the silence stretched. They kept looking at the beautiful night sky above them. Then her voice came, low and achy. “I haven’t told anyone this and I don’t know why I’m telling you. I just need to say the words—to hear them out loud.” She paused. “It happened on a Friday. There was a dance at my school on Saturday and I wanted this special dress that I’d seen. I begged and begged my mother to buy it, and she said no, that I had plenty of dresses.” A muffled sound followed the words and he knew Rachel was crying. He remained still, not making any movement because he had a feeling she didn’t want him to react. And he wasn’t comfortable with that type of emotion.
“She must’ve changed her mind because that’s what she was doing at the mall—buying my dress. The police gave it to me later and I threw it in the garbage. I killed...my mother.”
“Come on, you can’t possibly believe that.”
“She wouldn’t have been at that mall if I hadn’t continually kept asking for the dress.”
“But it was her choice to go.”
Rachel rested her chin on her knees. “My mother was the most loving person I’ve ever known, and she didn’t deserve to die like that. I just can’t forget it and I’ve tried. For twelve years I’ve been trying. I went to art school in Paris, hoping that would obliterate the guilt, but it didn’t. I longed for home and my mother. But she wasn’t there anymore.”
“I don’t know anything about your mother, but I’m almost positive she wouldn’t want you to live with the guilt.”
“I tell myself that all the time and it doesn’t make that ache go away.”
“Have
