Raney looked over to see her mother waving from the veranda steps. Definitely upset.
Raney quickened her pace, Dalton right behind her. “What’s wrong?” she called as they crossed the yard.
“It’s Joss.”
Raney almost missed a step. “Is she okay? Is the baby all right?”
“I think so. She didn’t say.”
“Then what did she say?” They were all on the veranda now, crowded in a tight knot, not sure where to go or what to do. “Mama, tell me what happened.”
“They dumped her, that’s what happened. The poor thing.” Raising her hands in exasperation, Mama turned to Dalton. “I guess we shouldn’t be surprised. Those musicians she runs with are no better than traveling carny folk, after all.”
“Who?” Dalton asked.
“Dumped her why?” Raney almost shook her mother to keep her on track.
“Lord knows. It seems there was some hoopla over I don’t know what, and they kicked her off Crystal’s bus. Right there in Waco, of all places. Can you imagine doing that to a pregnant woman?”
“What were they doing in Waco?”
Mama waved a hand in dismissal of such a silly question. “They weren’t in Waco. They were driving through it on their way to Dallas. There’s a big music festival up by Arlington. Joss was supposed to be one of the backup singers for Crystal, but something happened, she didn’t say what, and now she’s been abandoned in some Walmart parking lot with no money or clothes and no way to charge her cell phone.”
“She’s naked?” Even Joss wouldn’t run around naked in a parking lot.
“Of course not, Raney! Good Lord! But she left all her clean clothes on the bus, and she never carries any cash. Does Walmart take debit cards?”
Raney put a hand over her racing heart and let out a deep breath. “Only about a thousand of them. And they have food and clothes and an entire baby section, plus they’re open twenty-four hours.”
“I don’t know if she’s ever been to Walmart. The nearest one to the ranch is two hours away, and she mostly shops online.”
“I’m sure she has. Millions of people shop at Walmart every day and live to tell the tale. She’ll be fine.”
“You’d better hurry, then. Take my car. It rides easier than your truck and won’t jostle the baby as much.” Mama turned toward the hallway.
“What? Wait!” Raney made a grab for her arm. “You expect me to make a six-hundred-mile round-trip just to pick up Joss and bring her home? What’s wrong with her own car?”
“It’s still in Houston.”
“A bus, then.”
“Don’t be silly.”
Raney slumped onto the ottoman. Of course Joss wouldn’t take a bus. That would probably entail a dozen stops, a bus change, and a layover in Dallas, likely turning a nine-hour round-trip into a twelve-hour one-way trip. Besides, Whitcombs didn’t ride buses, unless, of course, they belonged to nearly semifamous country-western singers. There was no train service, and Rough Creek didn’t have a long enough runway for any plane bigger than a puddle jumper, which don’t fly at night anyway.
She was so screwed.
“I’ll be glad to go get her, ma’am,” a deep voice said.
Dalton! She’d forgotten he was there and was so relieved she almost raced into the kitchen to get the keys to Mama’s Expedition. Then she realized that wouldn’t work, either. She doubted Joss would accept a ride from an ex-con, especially one she probably didn’t remember and if she did, definitely wouldn’t recognize now that he’d gotten so . . . big. Assuming Mama would ask him to make the trip.
Which she did by pretending not to. “Oh, I couldn’t ask you to do that, Dalton.”
But it’s okay to ask your daughter? What the hell?
“It’s after three, ma’am,” Dalton said over Raney’s head like she wasn’t there. “Even if she left now, Raney wouldn’t get back before one in the morning. That’s a long, hard drive at night. At least let me go with her to keep her awake.”
Raney gaped from one to the other. Did he really think Mama would allow a man convicted of vehicular manslaughter to play chauffer to her daughters, one of whom was pregnant and a dimwit, besides?
Apparently so. Mama pretended to give it some thought, then looked to her daughter—the unnatural, expendable one who had bailed out Joss a thousand times over the years and seemed destined to do it again. “What do you think, Raney?”
Raney thought it was a colossally stupid idea. The guy already had one notch on his steering wheel. Was Mama willing to risk two more?
“I promise I’ll be careful,” Dalton said, before Raney could answer. “And if it would make you feel any better, ma’am, I won’t do any driving. I’ll just ride along to make sure they’re safe.”
He was good. No doubt about it. He fairly reeked of sincerity.
But then, he did have that protective streak. So maybe he truly was sincere. She almost laughed at the notion.
“Dalton, you’re a godsend.” Mama all but gave him a hug. “I’ll admit, I would feel better if you were there to watch over them.”
I own a Glock, Raney started to remind her. I don’t need to be watched over.
But Mama was already in planning mode. “I’ll go put together sandwiches and snacks for the road. Raney, you have time for a quick shower. I don’t want my car smelling like horses. Dalton, if you’re not driving, there’s a longneck in the cabinet over there. Thirty minutes, Raney,” she called back as she left the veranda.
Raney waited until Mama disappeared into the kitchen, then glared at Dalton. “You must be the dumbest man in Texas.”
His wide grin hinted at mischief and improper thoughts. “You think so?”
“If you’re hoping to make a move—”
“Raney, Raney.” He gave a weary sigh and shook his head. “You’ve got to quit slamming the door in my face before I even get a chance to knock. It’s kind of discouraging.”
“I’m bringing my Glock.”
“Whatever makes you happy, sweetheart.”
* * *
Forty-two minutes later, they pulled out of the main gate, Raney, with no makeup and wet hair, and Dalton, still nursing
