are my kids?”
His attitude got to her. He made to pass her, but she held out her arm. “Just a minute. I want to talk to you.”
“Ms. Belle, I don’t have time for—”
She stepped out on the veranda and closed the door behind her. Shivering, she wished she’d grabbed her jacket. “Make time.”
He frowned at her, and she could see the resemblance to Haley. She sat in one of the old rockers on the porch and looked up at him, then wished she hadn’t. All that male testosterone was just a little too close. Her breath caught in her throat.
For the first time, she took a really good look at this strong, rigid man. What she saw was a frightened father. Tiny worry lines crinkled around his eyes. His mouth was slashed into a stubborn line. His well-built body seemed restless. He was dressed only in jeans and a shirt—he had no jacket even though the temperature was in the forties. He must be thick-skinned, too.
His eyes told a different story, though. What he could hide with toughness and bravado, his eyes couldn’t. He was hurting, but she knew he would never admit it.
He was the type of man who never showed weakness. That was clear from his strong stance. She also knew he was at a loss at how to handle his own children, but he would never harm them. She understood all of that from the desperate look in his eyes.
She wrapped her arms around her waist. “Do you know what your daughter has planned?”
“No.” He pushed back his Stetson. “My daughter has an aversion to talking to me.”
“Why is that?” She stared directly at him, and the heat from his stare washed over her. Suddenly she wasn’t cold any longer. Her body felt hot, sticky, and the rocker creaked as she moved uncomfortably.
“Ms. Belle, I appreciate you taking care of my kids, but this is really none of your business.” The words were calm and direct, not angry like she’d expected.
Even though he was intimidating, she didn’t fold like a used wallet ready to be tucked away out of sight. She lifted her chin. “Your daughter made it my business by hiding in my barn.”
“What?” He was genuinely puzzled. “Why would they do that?”
“They were looking for Brian Harper. Evidently he told Ginny he would give her money if she needed it.”
“Why would they need money?” he asked slowly.
She had to tell him the truth, and she didn’t pause in doing so. “For bus tickets to Lubbock to find Haley’s mom.”
“Shit.” He swung away, his body taut as he gazed at the barn and corrals. “Haley doesn’t know where her mother is.”
“Why does she think Lubbock?”
He swung back to her, his jaw clenched. “Trisha’s sister lives there, so I assume Haley thinks her mother is there, too.”
“And she’s not?”
“Where are my kids?” The questions were clearly over, but Maddie wasn’t finished.
She stood and took a step backward. Standing close to his male heat made her breathless, but she had a point to get across and she was determined to do it. “Before I came to live at High Five, I was a counselor in a hospital. I dealt with a lot of children. Usually when a child runs away and doesn’t want to go home, there’s some sort of abuse in the home.” She paused to gather her courage. “Haley doesn’t want to go home, so naturally I heard warning bells. But talking to you I know that isn’t the problem.”
He tensed. “Very big of you.”
She ignored the sarcasm. “Ginny doesn’t want to go home, either, and in her case I’m inclined to believe she’s being abused.”
“Her father’s a drunk and gets his kicks by beating his wife and kids.”
“Can’t you do something?”
Walker was all out of patience, and Madison Belle was treading on his very last nerve. But there was something in her blue eyes that stopped him from giving her a full dose of his anger. She cared. She had to have been born under the sign of the Good Ship Lollipop, fairy tales and happily ever after. Good was probably her middle name, and she believed in it to the hilt. He avoided women like her because they usually had their head in the clouds with reality nowhere in sight.
He’d seen the worst in people, and when push came to shove, the worst always won over the good. But Goody Two-shoes Madison would never believe that.
He dragged his thoughts back to her. From the first moment he’d seen her, at a party at Southern Cross, he’d thought she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on. At the time, he’d said some off-the-wall remark that had irritated her. As he’d looked into her shining eyes that day, his good sense had taken a hike. That was a first for him.
Her sisters, Caitlyn and Skylar, were beautiful, too, but he had no trouble talking to them. Something about Madison tied him up in knots. He didn’t like the feeling. He was in control—always. Over the years he had mastered it, but somehow she had broken through all his defenses with just one look. He didn’t like that, either. So he avoided Madison Belle.
Now she was in his face, demanding answers and wanting the good to shine through in this situation. He’d dealt with Earl Grubbs before, and the man didn’t have an up-close-and-personal relationship with good. How did he explain that to her, though?
“I’ll do what I can” was all he could say. But he was going to make sure Earl got the message this time.
“That’s it?” She arched an eyebrow that spoke volumes.
Against his will, his eyes swept over her. Her soft curves were emphasized in the tight jeans and western shirt. Her blond hair had come loose from its ponytail and hung enchantingly around an angel face perfect in every way—smooth, gorgeous skin, pouty lips with a sexy curve and an expression of wholesomeness minimized by pure, come-hither blue eyes. Exactly what every man would want in his Christmas stocking.
He put brakes on his thoughts and took a long breath. “Ms. Belle, I appreciate your concern, but now I’m taking my kids home.” He opened the door and went inside with her on his heels like a pit bull.
Hearing voices, he headed in that direction. Haley and Ginny sat at the table eating cookies. Etta Johns was watching them.
Haley looked up and saw him. “Daddy,” she said in a guilty voice.
“Let’s go. Where’s Georgie?” He tried to keep his voice calm, but it came out as stern, probably a side effect caused by Ms. Belle.
Haley rose to her feet, her movements nervous. Her eyes were like his, but her hair was blond like her mother’s. Her jeans and knit top hung on her thin body. His daughter had a nervous stomach, and he didn’t know how to make her eat without getting sick. The divorce had hit Haley hard, and he wanted to make her world happy again. Maybe with a little of Madison Belle’s good.
He didn’t know how to accomplish that, since his daughter seemed to hate him and blame him for Trisha leaving. His gut twisted a little more each time he looked into her
