frustration, she passed Eve Bailey coming in. She hadn’t seen her neighbor for a while and was surprised how happy Eve looked, then recalled that Eve and the sheriff were to be married in the coming week.
Arlene nodded at Eve as they passed, not trusting her voice. She’d always wanted that for her daughters. A handsome, eligible man. A wedding where everyone in the county came to celebrate. A white wedding dress and the mother-daughter talk.
She’d wanted that desperately because she’d never had it.
She fought the tears all the way to her pickup. What had she done wrong? At the rate things were going, she’d never have to worry about buying a mother-of-the-bride dress or fussing over last-minute details with the caterer.
EVE BAILEY WASN’T getting cold feet. She was marrying the man she loved—had loved since she was a girl.
But now that the Fourth of July was coming up so quickly, she was anxious. She wanted this wedding to be perfect.
Her mother, with her new husband Loren Jackson, would be flying in. Her father, Chester Bailey, would be giving her away. He would be attending the wedding with his girlfriend Susie.
How did other families handle all this extended-family stuff? She just hoped there wouldn’t be any trouble. But that wasn’t what bothered her. Here she was with all this extra family and she wasn’t related by blood to any of them except for her twin, Bridger Duvall.
She had hoped by the time she married Sheriff Carter Jackson that she would know who she was. For years she’d yearned for someone who looked like her. Bridger had her coloring, but it wasn’t like being able to look at your mother and father and see yourself.
She had tried to accept that she would never have that because of the circumstances of her adoption. But still she wondered what her birth mother was like. Was she even still alive? On her wedding day, Eve would have loved to have her “other” family in the pews as well as her adopted family.
Unfortunately she and her adoptive mother had never been close. Eve blamed herself. She knew she had been a difficult child. From early on she’d known Lila wasn’t her “real” mother even though Lila had sworn differently. It didn’t seem to matter that Lila loved her and considered Eve her own.
Eve hoped to make up for that somehow. But looking for her birth mother had only made the chasm between her and Lila grow wider—and brought light to the illegal adoption ring.
“Is everything all right?” Carter asked as she stopped in his office doorway, hands on her slim hips, dressed in Western attire with a straw hat pulled low over her long dark hair.
“Yes. No. I think so.”
He laughed and came around his desk to take her in his arms. “Just a little longer,” he whispered against her ear.
She nodded, sick of thinking about nothing but the wedding. “Was that Arlene Evans I just saw leaving? She looked different somehow.”
“Charlotte seems to be missing,” he said as he motioned Eve into a chair and took one opposite her.
“The girl is about to have a baby any day, isn’t she?”
He nodded.
“Poor Arlene, those kids have put her through hell,” Eve said. “What if our kids turn out like that?”
“I’ll lock them up down here in the cells until they straighten up.”
Her eyes widened even though she knew he was kidding. “Seriously, there could be some bad gene in Bridger’s and my blood that we don’t know about.”
Carter’s face softened. “There is no bad gene. Look how well both of you turned out.”
“Right.” But Eve couldn’t help but worry. Soon they would be having children. The sooner, the better, since she was now thirty-four. At least their kids would be able to look at their parents and know who they were, even though their mother still probably wouldn’t have a clue who she was or where she’d come from.
“I’m okay,” she said, seeing the worry in her soon-to-be husband’s face. “Really. It’s just the wedding and everything.” She reached across to squeeze his hand.
She had one constant she could hang on to: she knew she belonged with Sheriff Carter Jackson. Now, if they could just get through the wedding without anything like sheriff business keeping him from the altar…
AS ARLENE CLIMBED behind the wheel of her pickup, she didn’t blame Sheriff Carter Jackson for being skeptical about Charlotte’s disappearing act. Arlene herself couldn’t help but believe he might be right.
She blamed herself. She’d failed miserably as a mother. It was the only explanation for the way her three had turned out. And even now she had no idea what she’d done wrong. Floyd had always been too busy farming—until recently, when he’d bailed out completely.
Drying her tears, she pulled herself together as she drove home. She had to believe that Charlotte would come back and that that innocent little baby was all right.
“Arlene?” Hank’s voice sounded like heaven when he answered the phone. “Any news on your daughter?”
She swallowed the lump in her throat and turned her back to Bo, who was sprawled on the couch, watching television. “She never went to her doctor’s appointment yesterday, and I still haven’t heard a word. I’m worried sick.”
“I’ll come right out and help you look for her.”
She glanced over her shoulder at Bo. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Arlene, I want to help.”
She’d hoped to put this off. She took the phone outside to the porch and closed the door firmly behind her.
“The truth is, I haven’t been honest with you about my family.” The tears that burned her eyes surprised her. She hadn’t cried for years, and now all of a sudden she was a waterworks. “I’ve made a horrible mess of my life. Of my children’s lives. I have one daughter in a mental institution, another one pregnant and a son—” Her voice broke and she couldn’t continue.
“I haven’t told you about my family either,” Hank said. “I’ve made my share of mistakes, as well, Arlene. You know I told you I was widowed? It’s true. My wife and I never divorced but we hadn’t lived together for years. I’m walking out the door now. I can be at your place in fifteen minutes. Just give me the directions. We’ll find your daughter.”
Arlene cupped her hand over her mouth for a moment to keep from sobbing, her relief overwhelming her. She’d been handling things on her own for so many years, just the thought of someone wanting to help her…When there were problems, Floyd had always left it up to her to take care of them, blaming her no matter what the trouble was or the outcome.
“You need to drive south toward Old Town,” she finally managed to say.
“I’ll be right there.”
Chapter Three
Hank drove down the narrow dirt road, flying
