was staring at him as if he had grown a second head. “You want me to go in there without you?” she asked.
“Just tell Mrs. Motherwell you’ve come to replace her. I’ll explain everything to the kids when I get back.” When Cherry continued sitting there staring at him, he snapped, “Changed your mind already?”
His new wife looked sober and thoughtful. There were shadows of fatigue beneath her eyes. “No. I’m determined to see this through.” She gave him one last anxious look before she left the truck. “Don’t be gone long.”
“I won’t.”
Billy resisted the urge to gun the engine as he backed away from the house. Once he hit paved road he headed the truck toward town. He hadn’t gone two miles when he saw flashing red and blue lights behind him. He glanced down at the speedometer and swore. He swerved off the road and braked hard enough to raise a cloud of dust.
He was out of the truck and reaching for his wallet to get his driver’s license when he saw the highway patrolman had a gun in his hand that was pointed at him.
“Freeze, Stonecreek, or I’ll blow your head off.”
Billy froze. “What the hell’s the matter with you?”
“Put your hands up. You’re under arrest.”
“Arrest? For what?”
“Kidnapping.”
It took a full second for the charge to register. Kidnapping? Then he realized what must have happened and groaned. “Look, Officer, I can explain everything.”
“You have the right to remain silent,” the officer began.
Billy’s lips pressed flat. He had married Cherry Whitelaw in the hope of solving his problems. Instead he had jumped right out of the frying pan into the fire.
CHAPTER FOUR
CHERRY STARED at the back door of Billy’s house—now her home, too—trying to work up the courage to go inside, wondering, absurdly, if she should knock first.
She turned and stole a glance at Billy’s rugged profile as he drove away, pondering what it was about him she had found so beguiling. He had rescued her, listened to her troubles, and shared his in return. She had felt his desperation and responded to it. Now he was her husband. She twisted the cheap gold ring that confirmed it wasn’t all a dream, that she was, indeed, Mrs. Billy Stonecreek.
Good grief. What had she done?
Cherry had gone off half-cocked in the past, but the enormity of this escapade was finally sinking in. Surely it would have been better to face Zach and Rebecca and explain the truth of what had happened at the dance. How was she going to justify this latest lapse of common sense?
She felt a surge of anger at Billy for abandoning her at the door. It wouldn’t have taken long to introduce her to Mrs. Motherwell and explain the situation. So why hadn’t he done it?
Maybe because he’s having the same second thoughts as you are. Maybe in the cold light of day he’s thinking he made a bad bargain. Maybe he’s trying to figure out a way right now to get out of it.
If the back door hadn’t opened at that precise moment, Cherry would have turned and headed for Hawk’s Pride.
But it did. And Cherry found herself face-to-face with Penelope Trask.
“I saw you standing out here,” Mrs. Trask said. “Is there something I can do for you?”
“I, uh… Is Mrs. Motherwell here?”
“She packed her bags and left this morning.”
Cherry stood with her jaw agape, speechless for perhaps the first time in her life. Had Mrs. Trask already managed to gain legal custody of Billy’s children? Had their marriage been for naught? She wished Billy were here.
“Don’t I know you? Aren’t you one of those Whitelaw Bra—” Mrs. Trask cut herself off.
Cherry knew what she had been about to say. The eight adopted Whitelaw kids were known around this part of Texas as the Whitelaw Brats, just like Zach and his siblings before them, and Grandpa Garth and his siblings before that. Cherry had done her share to help earn the nickname. She was proud to be one of them.
She met the older woman’s disdainful look with defiance. “Yes, I’m a Whitelaw Brat. You have a problem with that?”
“None at all. But if you’re looking for your missing sister, she isn’t here. I have no idea what my no-account excuse for a son-in-law has done with her.” She started to close the door in Cherry’s face.
Cherry stuck her foot in the door. “Wait! What are you talking about?”
A flare of recognition lit Mrs. Trask’s eyes. “Oh, my God. You’re the girl, aren’t you? The one Billy kidnapped.” She stuck her head out the screen door and looked around. “Where is he? I have a few things to say to him.”
“Kidnapped?” Cherry gasped. “I wasn’t kidnapped!”
“Your parents reported you missing late last night.”
“Why would they think I was with Billy?”
“Your date wrapped his car around a telephone pole, and when he kept mumbling your name the police called your parents, thinking maybe you’d been thrown from the car. At the hospital, the boy told your father that he’d left you at the stock pond with Billy, after my son-in-law ran him off with his fists.
“Your father couldn’t find you at the stock pond, and when he came looking for you here in a rage, Mrs. Motherwell called me. Your father seemed bent on strangling someone before the night was out.”
Probably me, Cherry thought morosely.
“Of course I came right over,” Mrs. Trask said. “All I could tell your father was that I wouldn’t put it past my reckless son-in-law to kidnap an innocent young woman.”
“Mrs. Trask, I wasn’t kidnapped.”
“I suggest you go home and tell that to your father. He told the police Billy must have kidnapped you, because you’d never go off on your own like that.” Mrs. Trask smirked. “Of course, that was before he found out you’d been expelled from school earlier in the evening.”
Cherry groaned.
“You’re in an awful lot of trouble, young lady. Where have you been? And where’s Billy?”
Cherry put a hand to her throbbing temple. Zach and Rebecca must be frantic with worry. And disappointed beyond belief. She didn’t want to think about how angry they were going to be when they heard what she had done.
“May I please use your phone?” It was her phone now, so she shouldn’t have to ask. Except, this didn’t seem the right moment to announce that she and Billy had run off to Las Vegas to get married.
Mrs. Trask hesitated, then pushed the screen door
