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Chapter Two

The 767 eased to a stop at Houston’s Intercontinental Airport. Daniel slid his laptop into a worn leather case and stepped into the crowded, narrow aisle. He dipped the crown of his Ranger Stetson to avoid the low doorway of the aircraft and was immediately assaulted by a warm burst of muggy air. He merged with the mass of summer travelers, knowing his daughter’s flying experience would be a far cry from mundane.

He’d opted to use the other half of his commercial ticket after J.D.’s assurance that Dana would be secure on the pricey chartered Maverick. Neither female had objected, worn out as they all were from debating where Erin should recuperate. She’d been adamant that she wasn’t going to a recovery hospital, and determined to pay for professional home care. It had taken her boss to dissuade Erin from such a phenomenal out-of-pocket expense when her family was so willing to help.

Daniel had sought the Word for guidance, afraid he was a loser whichever way Erin decided. Maybe Dana’s dream of a family could be fulfilled, even if his had long ago dimmed. She was desperate for this time with a mother reluctant to go into a setting where she would constantly be put on the spot for information. They’d finally agreed between the three of them that Dana would stifle the endless stream of questions and Erin would share when she felt the time was right.

The cards were definitely stacked in Erin’s favor but he and Dana agreed privately that a tight-lipped Erin was better than no Erin at all. And frankly, Daniel was looking forward to being the parent willing to talk while Erin accepted the blame for the gaps in Dana’s family tree.

Leaving Walter Reed for the trip to Houston this morning had given Daniel time apart from the two women to figure out whether or not to come clean with the rest of the story. So far, no revelation had presented itself and he was okay with that. Daniel had been alone with his secret for so many years that breaking his silence would be like betraying a partner. He’d never even considered it because there would be a high price to pay with his daughter.

And now, with Erin.

For the past week he and Dana had trained for the care of Erin’s injuries. Anything less than around-the-clock attention for the immediate present, followed by intense physical therapy could cost the use of her right arm. It was mostly an academic effort on his part since Dana insisted on being the one to do everything for Erin in spite of their near-disastrous first encounter.

Erin was quick to recover from her initial reaction to seeing Dana for the first time, but the damage was done.

“She thinks I’m ugly.” Dana cried during their ride back to the hotel. He comforted his daughter by joking that they hadn’t prepared Erin for an eyebrow ring, pointy purple hair and black lipstick. That was enough to make anybody gasp. They laughed it off and let it go, but he knew Dana was hurt.

Still, she wanted to take care of her mama and was of the unshakable opinion that she could fill the role of Erin’s caregiver just fine on her own. So, Dana wasn’t gonna like it even one little bit that Daniel had arranged for backup. He had imported the only person he could trust to run his house, help out with Erin’s needs and keep an eye on his daughter if he had an overnight investigation. But most importantly, this particular backup would prevent the neighbor’s tongues from wagging right out of their heads when his mysterious ex-wife moved in.

His not-so-secret weapon was LaVerne Stabler, a one-woman force of nature. She was a home-cookin’ and house-cleanin’ machine. A whirlwind of efficiency that meant business and wouldn’t stand for anything even close to ungodliness. Given the choice, any cowhand or cousin on their West Texas ranch would sooner stomp on a prairie rattler than cross his mama.

Ironically, even though he exposed his daughter to her grandma on a regular basis, Dana still hadn’t figured out what everybody else in the Stabler clan knew; life was just easier in general when LaVerne had things her way.

Daniel slung his carry-on bag into the passenger’s seat of his oversized SUV, grateful for the diesel guzzler that would allow him to transport the medical equipment that came along with their guest. It was going be an unpredictable time, and Daniel prayed to maintain his peace when he thought about being trapped under the same roof with three women who held the power to rock his world.

“What’s she doing here?” Dana hissed.

Erin noted the angry slash of scarlet that blazed across Dana’s cheeks as she pointed toward the white Cadillac marred by whiskers of red grime on the fenders. Daniel pulled his behemoth SUV into his driveway and came to a stop.

“You invited that old busybody, didn’t you?” Dana spoke to her father through clenched teeth.

In the backseat of the SUV, Erin flinched at the accusation. So much of the teen reminded her of Alison. Each time Dana had hovered over the gurney during the flight from Washington to Houston, Erin had battled a gut-deep urge to recoil. She’d feigned sleep most of the way to dissuade any conversation. She’s not Alison became a silent mantra whenever Erin looked into the girl’s eyes.

Daniel released his seat belt and turned to his daughter. “I’m gonna let that slide because you’ve been through a lot in the last few weeks. And because I had a feelin’ you wouldn’t think this was a pleasant surprise. But that old busybody is my mama and if you ever talk ugly about her in my presence again, I will make you go back to your natural hair and nail color and take out all your earrings. Got that, Morticia?”

“Yes, sir,” Dana muttered, faking repentance.

From Erin’s position wedged among many pillows, she observed a brief father-daughter discussion on guest protocol and house rules. The teen negotiated like a United Nations delegate. It was evident she was an only child, always respected as if she were an adult. In the few minutes it took them to reach agreeable terms, the narcotics wore off and Erin’s right forearm began pulsing pain. With the bulk of the bandages removed, she had regained control of her head and left torso. But her lower back and hips were still locked down and dependent for movement, especially during the killer hours of torture, aka physical therapy.

“Here comes the other third of your care team,” Daniel announced.

“Serenity now,” Dana grumbled as she spotted the figure headed their way.

A woman of indefinable years and weight lumbered toward the SUV. She had a Humpty Dumpty figure, bigger on the bottom than on the top. Her bleached updo was complemented by scarlet lipstick and a When-I-am-an-old-woman-I-shall-wear-purple caftan. On her feet were matching sparkly flip-flops.

“Dad, Grandma looks like she’s going on a cruise.”

“Will you let the lady enjoy being away from the ranch for a change? If she wants to treat this like a vacation, so be it.”

“Well, howdy! If you aren’t a sight for sore eyes.” There was no mistaking the natural Texas drawl.

The woman grabbed the door handle and grunted as she pulled herself up onto the driver’s running board. She poked her head through the open window to plant a loud smack on Daniel’s left cheek.

“I thought my sweet boy would never get home.”

She blew an air kiss toward her grandchild and waved a greeting to the backseat. “My word, look at all that stuff.” She counted the boxes and bags by pointing a long nail that matched her lip color.

“Grandma Verne, what have you done to your hands?”

“They’re called press-on nails. I found them in the sale aisle at the drug store and I think they look kinda nice.”

While LaVerne turned her right hand palm outward to admire her faux manicure, Dana glanced into the backseat and rolled her eyes upward beneath kohl-smudged lids. Erin pressed her lips together but let her eyes squint agreeably. She had to admit Dana was amusing and the constant self-chatter had made the last week in the hospital pass quickly.

“Let’s get everybody inside before the neighbors take an interest,” Daniel instructed.

“Too late for that.” LaVerne backed away from the SUV while Daniel stepped out. “As soon as I got here on Thursday evening, that pretty young woman across the street came right over to see if you were home.”

Erin noted his quick glance up the block and failure to acknowledge the comment. A girlfriend? The throbbing in her arm increased. She was beginning to feel nauseous.

“Excuse me,” Erin called. “I hate to break up the reunion but it’s time for my meds.”

The father-and-daughter team launched into precision drill activity. Car doors slammed, different doors opened, metal creaked and clanked as cases were removed and a wheelchair was snapped into shape. In another moment Daniel was beside her, solid and clean-smelling as he lifted her out of the vehicle. He gently positioned her into the waiting chair and then stepped away from any further contact.

Dana pushed and he walked alongside reintroducing the two women.

“Erin, I’m sure you remember my mama, LaVerne Stabler. And Mama, it’s been a lot of years but you know Erin. She won a Pulitzer prize for the pictures she took in Darfur last year.”

“Yes, I heard, son. Who woulda guessed that she’d parlay running off into a celebrity career?”

“Mama.” Daniel’s censuring tone made only the one word necessary.

Erin expected much worse and deserved anything she got. Judging from the way the Stabler jaws clenched, a lot was going unspoken. For now, anyway.

The move-in passed into a welcome haze after Daniel efficiently administered a dose of pain meds into the still-present IV. Antibiotics dripped day and night to finish off the killer staph while wounds healed and bones mended. The constant jostling of the past twenty-four hours had Erin’s muscles stinging and her stomach cringing. It was sleep or barf, so she slipped into numb unconsciousness.

Daniel tilted the lamp shade toward the wall so the low light it cast wouldn’t disturb Erin’s nap. Thick crew socks muffled his steps toward the metal bed frame. He was pleased LaVerne had thought to set up the hospital rental on the spacious sun porch he’d built last fall.

He gave in to the urge to study her face, attributing his curiosity to years of surveillance work that made it second nature. Her skin was clear, but too tanned and weathered for only thirty-four. Her short auburn hair was sleek and seasoned with occasional flecks of silver. Thick lashes fringed her closed eyes and a handful of freckles were her only adornment apart from an application of Dana’s tinted lip balm.

From the few photos of Erin he’d found on the Internet, it seemed she still didn’t wear much makeup or dress in a manner that would draw attention. Too early in life she’d mastered the ability to blend into the background so she wouldn’t be noticed. He figured that served her well as she waited, still as a fence post, for the right moment to take her photographs. From what he’d witnessed of her career over the years, she was bold to the point of being foolhardy, getting shots others couldn’t manage or wouldn’t attempt.

It was no surprise to Daniel that she’d won so many awards. In a way he was actually proud Erin had made a life for herself, but that made it doubly difficult to deny Dana’s growing need to know something, anything about her mama.

As Erin’s reputation grew, he was almost glad for the terms of the letter she’d left behind in their one-bedroom Austin apartment. She admitted she’d made a terrible mistake in believing she could have a normal life and didn’t dare stay another night. Anonymity was all she asked and in exchange she gave up what he wanted more than his own life.

Their child.

At the time, Daniel had no choice but to live with the deal. He’d known Erin was emotionally damaged, but thought he could love her back to health. He’d been wrong. She’d signed and returned the legal papers giving him full custody. Then she’d changed her last name, and for the past sixteen years Erin had been what her daughter could never be. Invisible.

Daniel almost convinced himself that they wouldn’t have made it as a family, anyway. Erin had been deeply wounded too early in life. Over the years he’d uncovered what she’d hidden about her past and often felt he knew too much.

If all the secrets, his included, ever spilled out of his tight grip, what a devastating mess it might be. He was playing Russian roulette by allowing her into the life he’d painstakingly built for himself and Dana. But what choice did he have?

“Daddy, what are you doing in here?” Dana whispered as she crept up behind him.

“Checking to see that everything’s okay.” He adjusted Erin’s IV pole a quarter inch to the right.

“She’s pretty, isn’t she?” Dana asked.

He slipped his arm around her shoulders and looked down into eyes that expected confirmation but needed reassurance.

“Just like you, baby girl.”

“What are y’all up to?” LaVerne hissed from the doorway.

Dana waved her grandmother over and allowed herself to be sandwiched as they stood arm in arm voluntarily for the first time in their lives.

Daniel offered a silent plea. Lord, I sure hope You know what You’re doing here.

The three people Erin saw standing beside her bed were linked in a typical Christmas card pose. Artificial and forced. Family in its “natural” state. She sent up a prayer.

Lord, I put this all behind me years ago. What is Your purpose in dragging me back? I lost consciousness in one battle zone and regained it in another. I hope You know what You’re doing here.

“Hey, you’re awake.” Dana was the first to notice.

“And hungry,” Erin replied. She hated dropping such an obvious hint but the flow of conditioned air from the kitchen, positioned next to the solarium, was pulling a mouthwatering aroma right beneath her nose.

“Well, it’s probably not as exotic as what you’re used to, but it’s one of Daniel’s favorite meals. Round steak, corn, mashed potatoes and gravy.” There was pride in LaVerne’s voice. The woman was crazy about her son.

“If by exotic you mean an MRE, I’ll stand in your chow line any day.”

“MRE?”

“Meals Ready to Eat. ‘Yummy’ freeze-dried military rations,” Erin explained to Dana, glad for a safe subject. “Believe it or not, they’re pretty decent but I prefer a camel kabob when I can get one.”

“Eeeeeuuuuuuuuu!” Dana’s face squinted in disgust. “You’ve eaten camel?”

“Does it taste like chicken?” Daniel asked.

“Not even close,” she answered. “It tastes like…camel. Really tough and gamy unless you can get a cut from the hump where the meat is less sinewy.”

“I don’t know about any camel’s hump but I’ve got supper in the kitchen from a cow’s rump, so let’s eat.” LaVerne headed toward the door. “Dana, I need you to set the table pronto, and no back talk.”

Dana noted her father’s better-do-as-she-says shrug and left the room.

“Would you like a tray in here?” he offered. “It might be too much for you to come to the table tonight, but it’s your call.”

Hmm…Stay in here alone while they talk about me or join them in the dining room while they watch my every move. Either way, I’m a big loser who needs somebody to cut my meat.

As tempting as it sounded to hide out on the lovely glass-enclosed porch, it was time to get started. Erin justified her agreement to join them in Houston as part of her rehab strategy. She’d made up her mind to look at every task as therapy. The sooner she could function on her own, the sooner she could get back to active duty. Behind the camera lens where she could record the lives of others. It was so much safer than engaging in the messy stuff herself.

“I’d like to eat with the rest of you, if it’s all right.”

“Yeah, sure. Just let me get the wheelchair ready.” He started to turn away, too much of a gentleman to answer any differently.

“Daniel.” Erin lowered her voice so the others wouldn’t hear. “Thank you for allowing me into your home. I know this is as difficult for you as it is for me, and I promise as soon as I can physically manage on my own, I’ll get out of your life.”

“It’s Dana’s life I’m worried about, not mine and not yours. I agreed to have you here for her benefit. Stay as long as you need to and don’t leave before you’re ready.” He glanced toward the door, took a step closer and lowered his voice, as well. “But when you’re ready, you’re leaving alone. Understand?”

“Perfectly.”

His narrowed eyes said he meant business. And who could blame him.

“Dad, if we have leftovers, will you make potato pancakes for breakfast before church?” Dana pleaded from the other room where she plunked dishes and flatware on a tabletop.

“Church?”

Dana had talked a lot about their church home. They knew everybody and attending a service would put Erin on display. She was going to have to pass on the very first opportunity to work on mobility.

“Of course,” Daniel answered. He leaned close but waited for her nod to signal permission before sliding supportive arms beneath her knees and the small of her back and lifting without effort. As he settled her into the chair and folded a gosh-awful-looking crocheted thing over her lap, his moss-green eyes locked with hers.

“And don’t even think about beggin’ off. This family worships together. And whether either one of us likes it or not, Erin, for a little while anyway you’re part of this family.”

Chapter Three

Sunday morning in Texas was nothing like Erin remembered and everything she’d once imagined it could be.

The chatter that echoed in the kitchen was contentious but good-natured. The dialogue between grandparent and grandchild was one disagreement after another with Daniel acting as mediator. But the dichotomy in the conversation never once escalated into the bitter shouts or harsh threats that accompanied dissent in her family experiences.

As with the meal the night before, breakfast around the pedestal-style oak table was a learning experience for Erin while it seemed like a social event for the others. Conversation stayed clear of the elephant in the room. She blessed Daniel, yet again, for obviously having reminded LaVerne and Dana against pressing for details that weren’t offered voluntarily.

But Dana deserved to know something, didn’t she? Where to start?

“These potato pancakes are a first for me,” Erin mumbled over a mouthful of the tasty breakfast.

Dana’s fork hovered between her plate and her mouth.

“Nobody ever fixed this at your house?”

Erin busied herself managing a fork in her left fist while she considered how much Dana could handle. There was no doubt the girl had been shortchanged without a mother, but on the other hand, Daniel had provided a pretty sweet deal. Their two-story brick home shaded by hundred-year-old pecan trees was in an affluent Houston neighborhood. Since Daniel had brought Dana up in church, it was Erin’s fair guess that he also ensured a quality after-school environment. If nothing else the teenager’s appearance was evidence she was respected and given free choice in personal areas so critical to one her age.

How could Dana possibly relate to growing up in a home where constant danger and uncertainty prevailed? Best to withhold that insight.

“Nope,” Erin answered the question. “I grew up in a cold cereal kind of house.”

Daniel sipped coffee, squinting at her above the rim of his oversized cup. The message of his stare would be more revealing on film, but for now it appeared a cross between censorship and curiosity. It was hard to recall how little she’d told him during their brief marriage, but Erin was certain she hadn’t shared much prior to the string of foster homes.

“If you think this is good, wait till you have Daddy’s pork spareribs. He cooks them all day and uses molasses in the barbecue sauce.”

“Don’t be giving away all my secrets,” Daniel teased, turning his eyes and attention on Dana.

“And there’s nothing like Grandma Verne’s butt cake.” Dana was clearly impressed with whatever deserved that description.

“Excuse me?” Erin asked for details.

“It’s really Boston cream pie,” LaVerne admitted with a proud smile. “But it’s so loaded with calories that it goes straight to your backside. Hence the nickname given by my daughter-in-law who lives on the ranch.”

“Tell me about this ranch.” Erin kept their attention diverted from herself.

“Oh, puuuleeeeease…” Dana groaned.

“There will be plenty of time for that conversation. Right now, we’ve gotta get going or we’ll be late for church. Mama, would you please help Dana with Erin’s needs while I clean up in here?” Daniel instructed. “I’ll have the truck running and the AC on high for you ladies in thirty minutes.”

Daniel glanced frequently into the rearview mirror, keeping an eye on his backseat where Dana gave Erin the lowdown on Abundant Harvest. He lifted up a silent prayer of gratitude for his daughter’s excitement over their church community. The contemporary sanctuary doubled as a gym where it was a safe haven for hundreds of teens who gathered there on weeknights. Dana served with the youth’s music ministry, where she’d become interested in the technical ins and outs of live worship. Of course, it didn’t hurt that the high school praise band was one of the hottest in the state. Whatever the reason, it was comforting to know where his kid and her friends were hanging out on nights when she was free to socialize.

“There’s a special place reserved for visitors.” Dana pointed toward the front of the sanctuary.

“No, thanks.” Erin’s response was resolute.

She’d been cooperative so far, but Daniel wasn’t surprised when Erin declined the front-and-center spot. Clearly, her comfort was in being the observer, not the observed.

As always, the morning’s worship and praise was lively. The pastor’s teaching on guarding your heart was relevant to the point of being worrisome. And the newcomer welcome after the service was warm and inviting. Daniel was grateful for his years of friendship and counseling with Pastor Ken, so there was little need to explain the sudden appearance of Erin Gray in their lives.

“I’ve been praying for your recovery since the day Daniel got word of your injuries.” Ken Allen had pulled a chair up and sat knee to knee with Erin and held her left hand as he spoke. “But I never imagined you’d be here with us today. God is awesome to bless us with a visit by someone with your talent.”

“Thank you.” Erin ducked her head, evidently touched by the pastor’s words.

“I know it’s a bit soon, but would you consider speaking to our graduates before they head off to college? Just let me know when you’re up to it and I’ll arrange everything.”

Erin’s eyes sought Daniel’s. If she expected him to intervene, she was out of luck.

“Oh, I don’t know, Pastor.” She slipped her hand from his and ran unadorned fingertips through her hair. “My skills are all self-taught and I don’t have any speaking experience at all.”

“Even better,” Ken encouraged. “These kids don’t want a presentation. They just need to hear you talk about your relationship with God and your passion for your work.”

“Well, if that’s all you have in mind, I guess I could do it in a few weeks when I’m back on my feet.”

“Perfect.” Ken rubbed his palms together. “We’ll see you again next weekend.” He stood and clasped hands with Daniel. “I’ll be in touch soon, my friend.”

“Pastor?” Erin called as Ken was about to greet another visitor.

“Yes, ma’am?” He turned back to her.

“How is it that you know I have a relationship with God?”

“Are you serious?” The light in Ken’s eyes was like a gift he wanted to share. “Your work speaks volumes about you. Nobody could capture the Creator’s touch like that without knowing Him personally.”

Sunday afternoon was peaceful enough. After a light meal each person moved to a private space. Erin’s quiet quarters were disturbed only by the half hour chimes of a mantle clock. Even so, she knew it was a temporary calm. She was experiencing the eye of hurricane Stabler. By Monday morning the gale force would appear again as life in the household resumed full speed with their patient at the center of the whirlwind.

Having others care for her physical needs was a humbling experience. Erin was certain she didn’t deserve and could never repay Daniel’s kindness. He’d said she was there for Dana’s sake, but Erin had no idea where to start or how to meet the raw need sometimes revealed in Dana’s eyes.

What she could do, however, was recuperate in record time and return to her own lifestyle so Daniel could do the same.

That recuperation started with a private therapist who would visit each morning to focus on strengthening Erin’s back and rehabilitating her right arm. It had been nearly severed three inches above the elbow, but the military physicians in Iraq had more than their fair share of experience with the delicate microsurgery. They’d reattached bone, reconnected nerves and restored blood flow. Erin could twitch her fingers but there was no sensation in them, only numbness. If the feeling never returned, as she’d been warned may happen, how would the loss of sensitivity impact her abilities?

There was only one way to find out and that was to handle her Nikon as soon as she got the green light to exert her arm beyond the blob of putty she was supposed to squeeze constantly.

The cell phone trilled on the bed beside her.

“What’s up, boss?” J.D. was the likely caller.

“Wow! Not only a cheerful but a quick answer.” He poked fun at her reputation for being on the go with no time to talk.

“And why does that surprise you?”

“Because the number of times I haven’t had to leave a voice mail and wait seventy-two hours for you to return my call can be counted on three fingers.”

“I have a few more hours on my hands these days since I’m not exactly tied up.” She glanced at the IV tube that had her tethered to an aluminum pole. “Strike that. I’m definitely tied up, just not with assignments. But I was thinking about that just a few minutes ago and—”

“Erin,” J.D. interrupted, his voice losing its humorous note. “Give it a rest, will ya? There will be plenty of war, pestilence and famine when you’ve recovered enough to come back. Meanwhile, try to appreciate having this downtime. Read good books, watch chick flicks. Just appreciate the fact that you’re alive.”

“I know, I know. And I’m grateful that I’m just in a bed and not a pine box. But my work is my reason to get up in the morning, J.D.”

“Well, maybe it’s time you found a new purpose. Kid, I love the bureau, but Mary Ellen and our boys are what I live for. You’re a young woman with plenty of reasons to get out from behind the camera and focus on real life, no pun intended. You need to get to know that beautiful daughter while she still has time for you. Trust me, in a few more years, you’ll have to make an appointment to see her.”

“Thanks for the advice, Grandpa Walton. Can I ask a favor?”

“Anything.”

“Will you ship me some equipment?”

“I’ll put that on my To Do list. But the reason I called is to let you know I’m heading for the West Coast tomorrow morning. I scheduled a stopover in Houston just long enough to drop a few things off.”

Erin felt a shiver in the sunny room. J.D. was going to fly several hours, rent a car and navigate the crazy Houston interstates for a brief visit. There had to be more to it then he was willing to say on the phone. This must be something he has to do in person.

“I hate to see you go to so much trouble,” she tried to dissuade him.

“The itinerary is all set, so don’t try to talk me out of it. I have the address and I’ll be there by three o’clock.”

Yep, the man’s on a mission. She prayed it was from God and not Corporate.

Daniel relaxed in his home office on the back side of the second floor, directly above the sun porch. He’d installed an upstairs ringer for the doorbell so he wouldn’t miss package deliveries. When the front bell chimed, he glanced up from his discipleship study to the time flashing in the corner of his computer monitor. It was Sunday afternoon and he wasn’t expecting anyone.

Must be for Dana.

The bell rang a second time.

“I’ve got it,” he called. Three steps from the bottom of the staircase he saw the visitor through the arched window in the door. Candace Dickerson. The curvy blonde was beyond neighborly, she was downright available.

But in a nice Southern girl way.

Candace was unmarried, educated, produced cooking shows for the local cable station and attended Abundant Harvest. She was everything a red-blooded man in his late thirties would be looking for in a woman and mother for his child. But Daniel wasn’t looking. He was content to raise Dana by himself, never dating or accepting invitations to singles’ social events. His unattached status suited his daughter just fine and he preferred to keep it that way.

But nothing stopped Candace from trying.

“Hey, Daniel!” She gave his waist a squeeze with one arm and kissed the air near his face as only a proper Texas gal can. “Your sweet mama said you’d be bringin’ company home and I thought I’d drop off a fresh batch of my homemade pecan pralines.”

“Did I hear ‘pralines’?” Dana called as she hurried down the stairs. The two women hugged and his daughter helped herself to the tin of gooey confections.

“Interesting you heard the mention of candy but you didn’t hear the doorbell.” Daniel was actually grateful for Dana’s arrival. His daughter’s presence would keep everything family-friendly.

“Come on out to the porch and meet Erin.” Dana led the way.