Which way had she been dragged?It took her brain a moment to recalibrate.Okay, she’d been pulled backward as she crossed the street toward the Colorado River.From the street that ran along the Colorado River.Think.Think.
“What have you done with my father?”she managed to mumble through the cloth.
One of the bastards barked a laugh.“Like we would tell you.”
She’d been thrown headfirst into the SUV.When the vehicle turned, she made a mental note—right turn.She could probably guesstimate which street she was on and then just keep guessing to get a general idea of location.She knew Austin like the back of her hand.She’d gone to the University of Texas at Austin for undergrad and then stayed for grad school.She’d left to get a change of pace and put some distance between her and her father since he’d spiraled after the boat wreck.Also, to forget the accident and find a way to move past it to figure out how to keep moving, keep breathing, and keep living her life without getting sucked under by her grief.It had been hard to do while she’d been watching her beloved father crumble before her eyes.He’d always been the marshmallow of the family, soft-spoken and kind.Those were the qualities she’d always loved in her father.Why was it the tender-hearted people who seemed to always end up in trouble with alcohol or drugs?
Ivy registered a left turn.She couldn’t tell how fast they were going, which made it next to impossible to figure out which street they were on.Another left turn.Then a second.She was losing track.
Hold on.Counting left turns and then right, she calculated that they could be downtown near the capital.Congress Avenue?Near the bridge?
And then the driver accelerated.Highway.
Which direction had they last turned?Ivy couldn’t get her bearings.They could be heading toward San Antonio or Fort Worth.
Or toward any remote area anywhere in between.
Beau white-knuckledthe steering wheel of the borrowed pickup.As much as he appreciated his newfound siblings volunteering to come with him, some things had to be handled solo.His mother fell into that category.He had questions that needed to be answered in private.Ones like, had she given away his location, causing him to come to within an inch of losing his life?And…could he trust her?
Did he hate the thought that his own mother could betray him?Hell yes.Did he have to consider the idea anyway?Again, hell yes.Did that gut him to admit?Hell yes.
Emma had questions to answer and some explaining to do.If she’d turned on him, she would have had a reason.
He’d set his GPS to the spot out in East Texas where he was almost certain she’d be.He’d been driving for a good long while already and had lost track of the time.He pressed the gas pedal a little harder as he gripped the steering wheel a little tighter, ignoring the pain in his shoulder where he’d been shot while helping Cassie escape a possessive, jealous, and criminal ex.
Beau checked his sideview mirrors, followed by a glance in the rearview to see if anyone was following him as he navigated through a surprising amount of traffic.Once he saw an opening, he mashed the gas pedal a little harder to break out of the highway herd.Being the lead car was the surest way to get caught speeding, but he needed to get to his mother.She wouldn’t have sent the message after days of silence if she wasn’t in some kind of trouble.
Reality slapped hard.Beau was keenly aware that this could be some kind of setup, so he didn’t respond to his mother’s message.Showing up and getting eyes on the situation was the only way to figure this out.
Questions ran laps around his brain until he neared the campsite where he was almost certain Emma would be.
Rather than running into the site like a charging bull, he pulled over to the side of the road and slowed his speed to search for a good hiding spot.He wanted to find a place that wasn’t visible from the road but would be easy enough to get to, just in case.When it came to Emma Rollins, needing an emergency exit was highly likely.But this time felt different.He could sense it.
Locating a good spot didn’t take long.He slipped in between trees and behind a large bush.This was as close to the campsite as he could get without fear of being caught before he exited the driver’s seat.He had no idea who or what he was about to encounter and had no plans to be on the receiving end of an ambush.
Beau glanced over at the butt of the gun sticking out of his backpack.He hadn’t grown up on a ranch and wasn’t accustomed to carrying a weapon despite needing to use one recently.The feel of the butt of the gun in his hand was awkward, at best.He’d used it before to defend Cassie, and he would use it again to protect his mother and himself.Recently, he’d come into more contact with firearms than he’d had in the balance of his entire life.Moving to a ranch, he was likely going to have to get used to carrying a weapon, since they were useful against coyotes and other wild animals that might be encountered on the land.Case in point, the mountain lion that had been harassing folks near the ranch still hadn’t been caught.It was wounded and had proven ready to attack people.
Beau palmed the firearm, keeping the safety on for the time being.If the situation called for it, the safety would be easy enough to slip off.
Walking into the situation blind, he had no idea what shape his mother might be in.She’d been missing for several days now and out of contact for longer than that.Past experience said this only happened when she was in serious trouble.And trouble seemed to follow Emma.Or, maybe, her choices had a way of catching up to her.
Choices.The quality of your life was determined by the choices you made.Choices like who to spend your time with.Choices like how to spend your days.Choices like what kind of people you let into your life.
Beau should know.He could be honest enough to say that his choice to walk into the Sturgess family…more like rage in like a bull in a china shop…had set the course for his newfound siblings to gang up on him and not trust him.He’d been all fire and emotion, raging against a family that had never claimed him.He’d been so damned angry at the father who had known about Beau but had still sat on the sidelines, never making himself known until he was dead.He’d never helped out on the many nights Beau and his mother had gone to sleep hungry, never contributing a dime toward living expenses or to ensure Beau had school supplies or decent clothes on his back.He’d also never made sure Emma was home to take care of her son.
Had his anger been misplaced?That was a hard yes.
Maybe Beau should be asking his mother why she’d chosen to let Beaumont Sturgess, one of the wealthiest horse ranch owners in Texas, use her and then spit her out like she was nothing, taking Beau down with her.
Beau locked up the truck and then made his way through the trees as quietly as humanly possible, careful not to snag the toe of his boot in the scrub brush.He used a zigzag pattern as he made his way to the campground.What he would find there, he had no idea.Anything was possible, from his mother lying in a drunken haze to dancing around a campfire reciting some incantation that was supposed to bring her good luck or the right man to take care of her.Funny, because his inheritance would more than cover her expenses once he was fully able to access it.He didn’t know how the others felt about bringing his mother to live on the ranch.He had mixed feelings, and he was her son.Since he was barely beginning to get his footing with his half-siblings, he hadn’t wanted to test the waters on the subject.
A voice in the back of his mind picked that moment to ask if he was making excuses because he didn’twantto bring her to the ranch.Shit.
Twenty feet from the tree line, he slowed his pace to a crawl.
Eyes and ears open, he approached with the caution of someone walking up to a ticking time bomb.
This particular area of the campground had clusters of teepees available for rent outside of the summer season.He’d been brought here by his best friend’s family in the third grade.When he’d returned home, he’d told his mother about it.She’d said she’d never seen him happier.So, every spring break that she’d been able to swing it, she brought him back.They would walk around the lake and eat peanut butter sandwiches for dinner.He tucked the fond memory away.
