Tanner? He shuddered, fighting the memory welling up of the U.S. Marshal driving away in a black SUV. Isabella in the window, cradling a six-month-old in her arms, and a little chestnut-haired boy, just two, waving bye-bye.
He swallowed hard. His lost children were here, in Texas. In Grasslands? Within driving distance? All this time he’d grieved for them, missed them with his entire heart for twenty-five years and now the two sets of twins were reunited? They’d found one another?
No, he shook his head, refusing to believe it. It couldn’t be true. The hardest thing he’d ever done was let them go. But he’d had to make an impossible choice to protect his family from unspeakable danger.
“We’re together now, Dad.” Maddie’s happiness was real. Her hands around his were real. “The only one missing is you.”
Her words finally sank in. Realization crashed over him like a cold ocean wave, washing away disbelief.
This was really happening. It wasn’t a hallucination or fever, born from his illness. He rubbed his hand over his face, took a deep breath and willed his heart rate to slow.
“Isabella.” For twenty-five years—nearly all of his adult life—he’d been without her. And for good reason, he’d told himself. He’d done his best not to think of her for over two decades. That’s the way he wanted it.
How could he tell his kids that? Maddie with her delight, Grayson actually smiling and Carter relaxed and at peace. This was good news for them.
But it wasn’t good news. He thought about the reason for their separation in the first place. Was it safe to reunite the twins? What about the murderous drug dealer they’d been hiding from? His stomach clenched tightly as he pressed his hands to his face, overwhelmed.
“Violet and Jack are waiting to meet you, Dad.” Carter stood, holding out his hand. “C’mon. I’ll drive you.”
“Good, because I’m not steady.” A lot had changed in twenty-five years, but not his love for his kids—for all of his kids. He took Carter’s hand. “Then let’s go.”
As for Isabella, he’d cross that bridge when he came to it. The last thing he wanted was to see her again.
* * *
“Mom, you don’t have to be so stubborn.”
“Me, stubborn?” Belle gripped her walker, refusing to give in to the limitations her head injury and consequent coma had left her with. She had work to do—work she missed back home on the ranch—and being cooped up in Ranchland Manor wasn’t in her plans for much longer. “What makes you say that?”
“Oh, no reason.” Violet, her beautiful, redheaded daughter, rolled her eyes. “Will you get in bed already?”
“I’m not sleepy.” The evening was still lovely, with the big Texas sky stretching like a soft blue canvas. She missed horseback riding beneath that canopy with the wind on her face. She breathed in, longing for the tangy scent of grass and open prairie. The biggest problem with being stuck in this place was the walls. At forty-three, Belle lived a very active lifestyle and liked her wide-open spaces. Maybe that had to do with those early years when she’d been in hiding, when her children were small.
“Mom, you’re here to heal, remember?” Jack, her handsome, strapping son, tugged around the armchair, so it would face the window instead of the bed. “Can you take it easy for once?”
“That would be against my better judgment.”
“Do something because we ask, okay?” Jack took her elbow.
“Yeah, Mom, it won’t kill you, right?” Violet’s loving laughter filled the room.
“It might,” she quipped, clunking the walker to a stop beside the armchair. Here came the hard part. She stopped her walker a few inches away, giving her just enough distance so that she would have to take a step on her own.
“Do you have to do everything the hard way?” Jack’s dry humor washed over her, making it easy to push off from the walker and lurch toward the chair. His strong hand banded her elbow, assisting her. Violet caught her other arm and she plopped onto the cushion. Goal achieved.
“Next time, it will be two steps,” she declared, determined to push along her recovery from what they hoped was a temporary deficit of motor functions.
“Next time, it better not be.” Violet plucked Belle’s hairbrush off the nightstand. “You don’t know what we went through when you fell off your horse and had to be rushed to the hospital.”
“Our world stopped turning.” Gruff, Jack turned away, striding fast to the window. He planted his hand on his hips, staring out at the courtyard, his whole body reverberating with emotion.
“I hate that you were worried.” She hadn’t been there to comfort them or to ease their troubles, because she’d been in a deep coma. It tore her apart. All she’d ever wanted was to be there for her children.
“Worried doesn’t begin to describe it.” Violet leaned in, brushing Belle’s thick auburn hair. “Terrified.”
“Heartsick,” Jack groused.
“You waking up was the best thing that could have happened.” Violet blinked dampness from her eyes.
“The doctors say you are a wonder, too, coming back to us with hardly any impairment.” Jack didn’t turn from the window, but his gratitude vibrated in his voice.
“Which I’m grateful to God for. He is good.” Belle patted her daughter’s arm, love brimming for them, her precious children. More grateful for them because of the two children she’d left behind. “My big problem is how do I convince the doctors to stop with the tests? That’s what I want to know.”
“Think of it this way,” Violet suggested. “The quicker all the testing is done, the sooner you can recover. The faster you can recover, the sooner you can come home.”
“Home.” Nothing sounded as good. To be in her own bed, to sit in the peaceful quiet of her living room and watch the horses graze in the paddock. The restless wind, the crisp scent of fall-becoming-winter air, feeling the sun on her back as she walked through the fields. That’s the medicine she needed right now. She’d never been one to sit around and let grass grow under her boots. “Any chance either of you can smuggle me out?”
“Funny.” Violet moved around the chair, tackling the other side of Belle’s hair. Across the room Jack’s phone buzzed. He reached into his pocket to check the screen. When he did, he traded looks with Violet.
Significant looks. As if Violet fully understood, she set aside the brush.
“You’re looking lovely, Mom.” A quick squint, a frown, and then she brushed a shock of hair behind Belle’s ear. “There. Absolutely stunning.”
“Okay, what’s up with you two? What are you not telling me? Don’t even try to deny it, because I know that look.” Belle couldn’t explain why her pulse lurched into an unsteady gallop, as if she could feel a change in the air. “Where are Maddie and Grayson?”
“On their way.” Jack’s jaw tensed as he leaned back, resting on the windowsill.
