sorry.”
She raised her eyes to the face of the man who had hit her child. Her heart jolted into a spasmodic rhythm and then just flatlined, leaving her struggling to breathe. Fate had stepped in with a fistful of vengeance. She stared into the deep blue eyes of Hardison Hollister.
Erin’s father.
* * *
HARDY’S CHEST EXPANDED with raw terror. “I’m sorry, Angie. I didn’t see her.” His hands shook and his stomach roiled. He’d just hit an innocent child, and there was no way to make that better.
Angie glared at him with angry, unwavering eyes.
“It was an accident,” Wyatt said. But it didn’t change the sick feeling in his stomach as he stared at the little girl in the pink bathing suit with her leg twisted beneath her.
What was her name? He couldn’t bring it up. Horseshoe was a small town, and everyone knew everyone. He and Angie had been more than friends once, but now they were mere acquaintances. They were civil to each other and often met by accident at Wyatt and Peyton’s house. But he always kept his distance. Over the past two years, he’d been successful at that. How had he just hurt the one person she loved most in the world?
The blare of the siren whipped through the trees and roared to a stop not far from where they were kneeling on the pavement. Two paramedics jumped out with a stretcher. One began to ask questions. One was on the phone to the hospital, explaining the situation and checking the child’s injuries. They quickly put a collar on the little girl and loaded her onto the stretcher and into the ambulance. A tearful Angie followed. Hardy’s heart squeezed at the sight.
He glanced toward the house. Peyton held her son. Jody and two other girls were grouped around her, crying. Two women stood beside them. Someone needed to go with Angie. She didn’t need to be alone. But everyone seemed frozen in shock.
He did the only thing he could. He climbed into the ambulance.
Angie eyes opened wide. “What are you doing?”
He sat on the side bench as the paramedics worked with the little girl to stop the bleeding. “Someone needs to go with you and since I caused all this, the logical person is me.”
“There’s no need,” she said in a cool voice.
But there was no arguing. The ambulance zoomed toward Temple and the nearest hospital.
“How is she?” Hardy asked, not able to take his eyes off the child. She was so tiny. His chest grew even tighter as he saw blood soaking the stretcher.
“We’ve stopped the bleeding and started an IV,” one paramedic answered. “Looks as if she’s fractured her femur, but the doctors will give a better assessment once we reach the E.R.”
Hardy stared at Angie and the years seem to roll back to a time they both wanted to forget. A time he had worked very hard to forget.
His sister, Rachel, and Angie were friends in high school. Their mother had been killed in a drive-by shooting while walking to her car at an Austin mall. She’d gotten caught in a fight between two gang members and was the only one to die. Her sudden death had hit the family hard. Rachel had been seventeen and crushed, as they all had been, but she couldn’t seem to cope. Not until Angie had become a steadying force in her life.
Angie was sweet, kind, warm and giving. With her sunny disposition, she seemed to bring joy into a room. She had a sweet innocence about her that screamed “untouchable.” Besides, she was his sister’s age and too young for him.
Rachel had seemed to need Angie, and Angie had always been at the house. If she wasn’t, Rachel was on the phone begging her to come. Angie had worked in the family bakery in Horseshoe, but she spent as much time with Rachel as she could.
Busy finishing up law school at the University of Texas, Hardy had rarely come home on weekends. But after his mother’s death he’d come home often. Sometimes he had to wonder, though, if it was for his family or to see Angie. There was just something about her that made other people feel better—made him feel better.
Rachel had never liked to get dirty or sweaty. When they swam in the pool, Rachel would sit in a lounger while he and Angie frolicked in the water. He’d taught her to dive and how to hold her breath and open her eyes under the water. She’d been afraid to do that at first, and he’d laughed at her silly face when she finally did it. And he’d laughed when she’d made a belly buster off the diving board. He’d enjoyed being with her as much as Rachel did. Being six years older, sometimes he’d been ashamed to admit that.
Angie was a good cook and he lost track of the number of times she’d cooked in their kitchen—nachos, pizzas or anything Rachel wanted to eat. He’d eaten right along with them, soaking up the smile on Angie’s face. They’d fought over movies. She had liked chick flicks, and he had liked action films. They’d done a lot of compromising and teasing. Rachel had been an artist and always drawing in her sketchbook and frowning at them. At times it had felt as if it were just the two of them in the world. He couldn’t wait for Friday afternoons when he would head home to Horseshoe and Angie would be there.
God, that was so long ago. How could those memories still be so vivid? He took a long breath.
The sirens kept blaring as the ambulance sped toward Temple. It whipped in and out of traffic and zoomed through red lights. Other vehicles slowed and gave the ambulance right of way.
Oh, damn. He’d forgotten. He had a dinner date with his dad and Olivia in Austin. That was where he’d been going when he’d hit the little girl. He fished out his phone from his jeans and texted his dad and Olivia. Can’t make it. Sorry. Been involved in an accident. I’m fine. I’ll call later.
Messages immediately came back, wanting answers. Olivia and his dad were not very patient. He’d been dating Olivia on and off for about a year now. She understood him better than any woman he’d ever dated. But sometimes... He turned off his phone, not in the mood to answer questions. As he slipped the phone into his pocket, his eyes caught Angie’s and his heart did a nervous hiccup.
Angie held her daughter’s hand and stared at him with that incredibly hurt look he’d seen before. He looked away and let his thoughts drift.
Rachel had planned to study art in Paris. It was her first love. To help Rachel settle in, Hardison Sr. had decided they would take a family vacation to Europe. They’d been worried about Rachel being so far from home and her friends, especially away from Angie. Hardy had even thought of asking Angie to go with her friend, but he knew her morally upright mother wouldn’t allow it.
Their father had thrown Rachel a big going-away party in August at the Hollister’s ranch. Angie had been there. It was a party for teenagers, and he hadn’t planned on making an appearance.
The party was supposed to end at twelve. He’d arrived home about twelve-thirty to find drunk teens around the pool. Someone had spiked the punch. His dad had been in bed, trying not to interfere with Rachel’s fun. Hardy had called parents to come pick up their kids. His sister had been asleep on the sofa in the house, seemingly detached from her friends.
Going to his room, he’d found Angie in the hallway, sitting on the floor with her head on her knees.
“Are you okay?” he had asked.
“I feel woozy.”
“Someone
