pattern. On foot, she could cut a much more direct path. With any luck, she’d reach the cabin a full ten minutes ahead of the riders.
Thank goodness she’d decided not to take her photographic equipment with her this afternoon.
Reggie winced as her boot caught on a root. Reluctantly, she slowed to a trot. Spraining an ankle wouldn’t be in her best interest.
Adam Barr.
Now there was a face she hadn’t expected to ever see outside of Philadelphia, much less in the backwoods of Northeast Texas. The last time she’d seen him had been in Grandfather Madison’s home seven years ago. A lifetime ago.
Back then, her grandfather’s dashing young protégé had been an up-and-coming lawyer, a man who seemed to have the world at his fingertips.
Until his spectacular fall from grace.
She wasn’t the least bit surprised he hadn’t realized who she was. In fact, she doubted he’d have recognized her even if she’d been all gussied up in her Sunday best. She’d been only a girl back then, fifteen years old. And he’d mostly seen her in the company of her stepsister. Next to Patricia she might as well be invisible. Reggie had always thought of herself as shadow to Patricia’s sunlight.
But she’d recognized him immediately. A woman rarely forgot the object of her first romantic schoolgirl fantasies—even if she’d dusted her hands of the fantasy as she matured.
Not that he hadn’t changed. He’d aged of course, but it was more than that. He still had that heart-stopping dimple in his chin and bluer eyes than any man had a right to. But now those eyes held a flintiness, and that dimple seemed incongruous rather than endearing.
He’d also got himself a faded but new-to-her scar on his cheek. A souvenir, no doubt, from the kind of life he’d lived since she saw him last.
Well, she might have been young back then, but her wallflower status gave her lots of time to observe without being caught out. She’d sensed the charming, save-the-world idealist had some shadowy secret lurking behind his easy smile. In fact, it was one of the things that had drawn her to him, had caused her to moon over him with such private, embarrassing-to-remember enthusiasm all those years ago.
Now, though, those shadows seemed to have taken stronger hold, giving his smile a cynical twist.
Seeing him through the eyes of a woman rather than a child, Reggie was relieved to discover his glance no longer had the power to set her pulse aflutter. To the contrary, her heart-thumping reaction to the sight of him had been due to surprise—that was all.
Of course, that was neither here nor there right now.
What in tarnation was he doing in Texas? What possible reason could he have for seeking her out? And who were the three city dudes he’d brought along? Surely, if Grandfather Madison had sent them, he’d have sent word ahead of time. Of course, the old fox hadn’t told her of his plans to donate a new wing to Turnabout’s schoolhouse, either.
Maybe that was it. Maybe they’d come to check on the progress of her grandfather’s newest project. But why had they come out here when the schoolhouse was back in town?
None of this made sense.
Could it have something to do with the letter she’d written Grandfather last month asking for guidance on how to formally adopt Jack? Were these men here to give her legal advice? But surely the matter was nothing more than a simple formality.
As far as Jack was concerned she was practically his mother already. Jack had been only three months old when her stepsister Patricia passed on. She’d been helping her brother-in-law, Lemuel, care for him ever since. Now that Lemuel was gone as well, she wanted to make certain Jack knew how special he was to her.
Her gut clinched. Surely there hadn’t been a problem with her request? What obstacle could there be to her adopting Jack? In the eyes of the law she was only his step-aunt, true enough, but he didn’t have any close blood kin, save the judge. No, there had to be some other reason they were here.
Ignoring the stitch in her side, Reggie picked up speed again as the cabin came into view. She had preparations to make before her callers arrived.
The Adam Barr she’d known all those years ago had been a pleasant, witty charmer, a self-made man who, after years of paying his dues, was just coming into his own. Certainly not a man to be afraid of.
But time could change a person, especially considering where the zealous ex-lawyer had spent the past six years.
Reggie wondered just when he’d gotten out of prison.
Chapter Two
As Reggie sprinted the last few feet to the cabin, Mrs. Peavy stepped out on the porch, wiping her hands on her apron. “Goodness, what’s got you in such an all-fired hurry?”
Reggie grabbed the porch rail, struggling to catch her breath. “Company’s coming.” She inhaled deeply then tried again. “Be here...in about five minutes.”
“Company?” The housekeeper looked more puzzled than alarmed. “Who’d be coming out all this way?”
“It’s Adam Barr.” Reggie climbed the steps, finally able to speak without panting. “He’s a friend of Grandfather’s I met in Philadelphia ages ago. And he’s brought three men with him.”
“Land sakes. Someone’s come all the way from Philadelphia to see us? Did the judge send him?”
“I’m not sure. But until I find out, I’d rather keep Jack busy elsewhere. Would you step down to the lake and let Ira know he and Jack should stay put until I signal it’s okay?”
Mrs. Peavy gave her a considering look. The squarely built woman was shorter than Reggie and had more salt than pepper in her hair, but she could assume a commanding presence when she wanted to. “You expecting trouble?”
Reggie shrugged. “Hard to tell.” For now, she’d keep the information about Adam’s jail time to herself. She didn’t want to alarm Mrs. Peavy. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to let the housekeeper know caution was in order. “I’d just prefer to find out what this is about before introducing them to Jack.”
Their reason for seeking her out might be perfectly innocent, but she didn’t believe in taking chances. Four able-bodied men versus herself, a six-year-old and an elderly couple—the scales seemed weighted in the visitors’ favor if trouble erupted. But there were a few things she could do to even the odds until she learned their reasons for being here.
She gave Mrs. Peavy a level look. “Ira does have his hunting rifle with him, doesn’t he?”
The housekeeper straightened, then nodded. “I won’t be gone but a few minutes. Think I’ll bring Buck back with me. You go get yourself cleaned up.”
Oh, she’d clean up all right. By the time the handsome lawyer-turned-convict and his friends arrived, there’d be nary a trace of the ragtag tomboy they’d met earlier.
If Adam Barr remembered anything at all about her from her long ago visits to Philadelphia, then he’d learn he wasn’t the only one who’d changed. She wasn’t the tongue-tied wallflower she used to be.
In
