was renting Lilly Wells’s place.
It sounded a little secluded but nice, with plenty of wide-open space for Leo to run and play. She couldn’t wait to see it.
She was certain she and Leo were going to love it.
* * *
Annie stood on the back porch of her new home the following morning and could honestly not believe her good fortune. It was a typical country farmhouse—old but comfortable with a warm, cozy feel that pleased her. She’d been lucky to get it for a price she could afford. She knew she owed it all to her real estate lady, Hailey Belle Sutton.
When they hadn’t come up with anything that would work, Hailey had called her friend and the next thing Annie knew, this lovely place was offered to her. Hailey had told Lilly about Annie and Leo’s situation—that they’d lost everything in a fire and they needed a furnished place, if at all possible. Though Lilly normally didn’t rent her home out, she’d decided to do so for Annie and Leo.
She hadn’t met her landlady yet but couldn’t wait until Lilly came home from a trip out of town so she could thank her. Annie would never be able to tell Lilly how much her act of compassion meant to her.
The fact that the old homestead was surrounded by pastureland at the end of a dirt road for them to explore—as they were doing that morning—was even better. It reminded her of the ranch for abandoned and neglected girls she and Jennifer had lived in for a short time. Of all the foster homes they’d lived in, the ranch had been the best.
“Look, Annie Aunt, a baby calf!” Leo exclaimed after they’d walked about half a mile into the back part of the property. They’d seen lots of cattle in the adjoining pasture, but this calf was right in front of them and on their side of the barbed wire. Before Annie could stop Leo, he bolted toward the small, fairly new calf.
“Leo, stop,” she called, hurrying after him, her gaze locked on the momma cow that stood the distance of a football field away from the calf. Leo skidded to a halt when she hollered. He was only twenty feet from the calf. Startled, it began to wail as it bolted away from Leo.
At the baby’s bawl, the momma’s head whipped up and her big eyes flashed fire— Oh no! This was not good. Annie charged the same time the cow did.
“Run, Leo, run!” she screamed.
Leo’s eyes grew wide and he couldn’t move as he seemed transfixed to the spot, watching the huge cow barreling toward him. Annie reached him and scooped him up into her arms, her feet never slowing as she kept running. He screamed for her to hurry, as if finally finding his voice. The only thing remotely resembling a shelter was a scraggly tree not much bigger around than a flagpole. But at least it was better than a stalk of goat weed!
The mad bawling of the momma and the thunder of her hooves getting closer had Annie’s feet moving as fast as they’d ever moved in her life. Breathing hard, she screamed for Leo to hold on when he started to slip from her grasp. He was so much heavier than she’d realized. Annie prayed for a miracle. Where she expected help to come from, she had no idea since they were alone in the middle of nowhere.
Breathing hard, she made it to the tree. Letting Leo slip to the ground behind the tree, she turned to face the oncoming freight train.
Poor Leo was screaming and she realized she was, too. Holding her hand on Leo’s shoulder, she prepared to play ring-around-the-rosies with the cow all day if that was what it took to keep him safe.
Momma cow charged the tree, and they scurried to the other side as it slammed its head into the thin trunk. It shook with the impact and Annie screamed again.
Dear Lord, what had she gotten them into?
* * *
Colt winced while struggling to rip open the bag of deer corn. Here in the deep woods the early morning quiet filled every space, and the sound of the bag ripping sent shock waves crackling through the stillness. The rustling of leaves told him he’d scared half the wild kingdom in the process of getting the bag open with one hand.
Watching the deer come into the clearing behind his cabin every morning and evening gave him some small semblance of... He couldn’t call it peace—it was more a calming of the dark emotions lurking inside him these days.
Watching the deer come in droves to the corn was a positive sign. And with the drought that Texas had suffered through the last few months, the poor animals were hungry. Their ribs were showing worse than any time he’d ever known. They were so grateful for the corn.
Picking up the coffee can he used as a scoop, he dug it into the hard yellow corn, then began sprinkling the food along the ground, softened by the many hoofprints from the previous night’s feeding.
As he’d done too many times to count, his thoughts drifted to the woman and the little boy. He’d hated the way he couldn’t deal with Leo hanging on him and looking up at him with those adoring eyes.
Colt didn’t deserve those emotions shining up at him from Leo’s heart.
The aunt had been angry with him. He had seen fire flash a couple of times when she thought he wasn’t doing right by Leo. He’d not been able to shake the feeling that he’d missed something. But then, he wasn’t firing on all cylinders lately.
Digging the coffee can into the corn again, he sprinkled it out in a wide pattern and repeated the action several times. He needed the solitude that was here in his woods, needed to be away from people—being around Leo and Annie had solidified that belief. And yet, he was restless. And he figured he always would be. All the people who’d offered him advice had said that time would heal. He knew it wouldn’t. He couldn’t imagine time taking the slightest edge off the guilt he felt. Because no matter what his brothers tried to tell him, he knew in his heart that he could have stopped that wreck if he hadn’t been so tired. He’d known his mind was fuzzy and his head had bobbed several times. Try as he might, he couldn’t remember the impact of the wreck. He couldn’t remember that moment when he had seen what was happening. He couldn’t remember whether his head had been down and he’d been asleep when that drunk had hit him.
Had he been asleep at the wheel when that car had come across the yellow line and hit him, sending him plowing into the oncoming traffic? It was a question he would forever ask himself. And yet, what did it matter? He knew how much like soggy bread his thoughts had been and how elastic that had made his response time.
He knew.
And there was no amount of time that would distance him from that knowledge.
Nope, he was responsible for killing that family and he would have to live with that for the rest of his life.
There was no prison sentence harsh enough for what he’d done, so a life sentence of guilt was a most just penalty.
Having a child look at him with hero worship in his eyes had almost killed him.
He hadn’t been able to take it—and so he’d run.
Here in the solitude of his woods, for now, was where he belonged. At least until he figured out how to deal with this.
His fist tightening around the cup, he jammed it deep into the corn, then slung the hard yellow kernels in a violent arch. Almost in the same instant, shouts echoed in the distance.
Screams.
Colt
