closely, noticing details she’d missed. Like the subtle bulge at her waistline that said she was several months pregnant. “You must be Cole’s sister.”
“You’re right. I am. My name is Annie Smith. Cole came to see me last night. He told me about your accusation.”
“Well, get your facts straight. I didn’t accuse him of anything. I’m just trying to find out the truth—for Joey’s sake.” At that moment, a loud wail emanated from the car. Tessa turned to the backseat window. Joey had kicked off his shoes and was jamming his feet against the passenger-seat headrest. Obviously, he was fed up with being locked in his car seat while his aunt was standing around talking.
She felt Annie’s presence and turned to face her. “We have to go. I promised my mother I’d be back in San Antonio for the second shift of visiting hours. The nurses have been extremely conscientious, but it’s exhausting for one person to be there 24-7.”
Annie moved closer to the window and Tessa had to restrain herself from pushing Cole’s sister away. What if he was Annie’s nephew, too? The idea made her light-headed. She’d honestly never extrapolated the family factor. Joey’s father would have a family of some kind, maybe even additional children who would be Joey’s half siblings.
“What a cutie.” Annie wiggled her fingers against the window. “Look at that blond hair and blue eyes. I used to know a kid with the same blond hair and blue eyes.”
Tessa took that to mean her brother.
“Well, if you ever met my sister, you’d know Joey looks just like her. Now, if you don’t mind, we need to leave. When you see your brother, tell him…never mind. I’ll tell him myself.”
She got in the car and drove out of the parking lot without looking back, her heart beating double time, palms damp against the steering wheel. She didn’t appreciate having Cole’s sister imply that she had some kind of ulterior motive.
She remembered all too well what it was like to have people make assumptions about her—assumptions that were only true because of circumstance. Once she’d been old enough, she’d been able to change circumstance.
Annie Smith was wrong. Tessa didn’t want anything from Cole. Not his money, if his ex-wife had left him any. Not his busybody sister publicizing their plight. And definitely not his DNA.
She had one stop to make before returning to San Antonio. Sunny’s friend Amelia had been responsible for inviting Sunny to Texas in the first place. According to Sunny’s journal, Amelia had been there when Sunny met Cole Lawry for the first time.
With luck, Amelia would not only provide third-party confirmation that there was no way in hell Cole could be Joey’s father, but she’d be able to give Tessa a lead on the other two names that appeared in the journal. Mr. Big and someone Sunny called the G-man.
CHAPTER FOUR
COLE GLANCED AT his watch. Time seemed to be crawling. He’d come to work two hours early to make up for an afternoon of wages he planned to miss, but even so, the morning just wouldn’t end.
Maybe he was tired. After leaving Annie’s, he’d worked around his place until nearly one. His mind had refused to shut off thanks to the minute-by-minute replay of his encounter with Tessa. And sleeping pills weren’t an option. He’d relied on them too much when he lived in San Antonio and had thrown out every OTC package and prescription before moving back to River Bluff. Instead of tossing restlessly until dawn, he’d turned his attention to hooking up the sink in the guest bath.
One more thing to check off the list, he thought, grabbing his tape.
He measured the placement for the next stud then reached for the precut two-by-four. He had to use his hammer to knock it into place, then he grabbed the pneumatic nail gun.
Carpentry had been his first job out of high school. On-the-job training with a framing company working on custom homes for BJM Reality. That was how he met his future wife. Big Jim McNally’s daughter, Crystal. Hot. Gorgeous. Spoiled.
But for reasons he never completely understood, she picked him and the whirlwind began. He should have known better. He knew better now.
“Yo, Cole,” Ron said, tapping Cole on the shoulder. “Your phone is ringing. Third time in ten minutes.”
Cole turned to face his boss. Ron Hayward, whose red hair, freckled nose and boyish grin had earned him constant comparisons to a certain child actor growing up, now looked more like a young Andy Griffith than Opie. He pointed to Cole’s Carhartt vest on a stack of wallboard.
Cole dropped his hammer handle-first into its holder on his tool belt and tugged on the plastic tie that kept him from losing his earplugs when they weren’t in his ears. “Sorry, boss,” he said.
Who? he wondered. Tessa? He’d left her his cell number the night before in case anything changed in Sunny’s condition.
Frowning, he picked up the phone and scrolled down to view his missed calls. Brady Carrick, NFL wide receiver turned cardsharp turned horse trainer. Luke Chisum’s number came up second. Cole was relieved to have his friend, career army, back and out of harm’s way. The last number belonged to Blake Smith, his brother-in-law. Three of the five Wild Bunch brethren all calling within fifteen minutes of each other?
“What the hell could be so important?” he muttered, hitting Blake’s number first.
“A kid, Cole? You have a kid?”
Cole’s expletive made all of his fellow workers stop what they were doing and look at him. Muttering, he walked down the plank ramp to the ground. “She promised to keep that between us.”
Blake laughed. “Your sister is a reporter, Cole. It’s in her blood. And, for what it’s worth, I’m pretty sure she hasn’t told your mother.”
But she would. Eventually. Cole swore again. The problem with living in a small town was nobody respected your boundaries.
“So, you called to give me a hard time about this?”
“No, actually. I just did that for fun. I called because I heard something I knew would interest you. It’s about Jake. Turns out you’re not the only one with a secret.”
“This particular secret isn’t mine. At least, I don’t think so. Although Mom would point out that this is the season for immaculate conceptions.”
His brother-in-law roared. “Well, until we learn otherwise, can I call him Cole Jr.?”
“Tell me why you called or I’m hanging up.”
“Spoilsport. Okay. You know Jake’s been low-key about what he’s been doing since he left town, right?”
Yeah. So low-key he’d never even found time to drop by and say, “How y’all doing?” “You’re not going to tell me you found out he’s been in jail the whole time, are you?”
“Nope. Just the opposite. I bumped into a guy at a meeting yesterday who said he knew Jake from his dealings with a West Coast company called TellMell.com. I checked on the Internet last night and sure enough, Jake’s name is at the top of the masthead of one of the hottest stocks on the market.”
“You’re
