The Wrong Woman

“I’ll be in next week, Mr. Wylie,” she said.

“Oh, Ms. Farrell,” Mr. Wylie replied, surprise in his voice, “I’m so glad. I’m aware that this house has been in your family for years and I hated to take it away from you.”

Serena couldn’t respond, couldn’t say that without this house, her grandmother would lose all hope, all sense of pleasure in life. What she said was, “I’ll see you at the end of the week,” and hung up the phone.

Serena continued down the hall into the den. Her grandmother, Aurora, was reclining in a chair with a blanket over her feet. At seventy-one, Aurora was regal with a polished Southern charm. She had grown up in Georgia and moved to Texas when she was fifteen. Later, she’d married Henry Farrell. They’d had one daughter, Jasmine, who died shortly after a car accident more than thirty years ago. Jasmine was almost nine months pregnant with Serena at the time, and while both parents had died from their injuries, Serena had been safely delivered. After Jasmine’s death, Henry and Aurora had raised Serena.

They gave her a storybook life. They lived in a lovely home in an affluent neighborhood. Serena attended the best schools. Her life was full and happy, and she’d never wanted for anything. After college she’d returned to Fort Worth and gotten a job teaching. She met Brad and they were making plans to get married when her grandfather passed away.

Her life changed that day. While she was still trying to deal with the grief of losing her grandfather, she discovered he was deeply in debt. That storybook life had been a fiction all along, paid for by loans. She’d never discussed finances with her grandfather, so she was unaware of their money problems. His family had owned a pharmaceutical company, which he’d inherited. The company had evidently been in a financial bind, and her grandfather had taken on private investors. The investors soon bought him out, but her grandfather had maintained a position in the firm with a salary—a salary that did not accommodate their lifestyle. His savings were gone and he’d taken out a second mortgage on the house, as well as a series of loans. His life insurance had paid off some of them, but Serena was still struggling to save their home. She’d never had to worry about money before; now it was all she ever thought about.

Her grandfather had tried to shield Gran and her from everything, letting them live in a fictitious world—a world without dark clouds or storms. He used to say, “I want my girls to have nothing but rainbows.” That wasn’t real, though. Now the real world had surfaced with a vengeance, and Serena wasn’t sure how to cope. But she was trying.

Serena kissed her grandmother’s forehead. Aurora opened her eyes, their blue a little faded. “Oh, darling, you’re home.”

She sat on the stool at Aurora’s feet. “We have to talk.”

“It’s about money, isn’t it,” Aurora said tiredly. “You know I don’t like talking about money.”

“We have to,” Serena insisted. “You have to stop spending so much. We don’t have any money,” she said bluntly. “We barely get by with your social security and my paycheck.”

“I don’t understand how we could be broke. Henry always took care of everything. I never had to worry.”

That was the problem, Serena thought. Henry had borrowed and spent more and more to make sure Aurora and Serena had the life he wanted them to have. Serena had explained this repeatedly to Aurora, but she never fully grasped the situation. And to be truthful, Serena wanted her to have the life she was accustomed to, just like her grandfather had. She found herself weakening. She decided against telling Gran about her conversation with Mr. Wylie, even though she knew she should. Aurora would be so distressed, and Serena was determined to avoid that. Besides, she’d figured out a way to stop the foreclosure.

Serena kissed her forehead again. “We’ll talk later,” she said, and headed for the stairs. She’d do anything for her grandmother. That was why she didn’t understand Brad’s attitude. When they found out about her grandfather’s debt, Brad urged her to file for bankruptcy and put her grandmother in a seniors’ home. Serena was appalled at such a suggestion. She’d been raised to be honest, loyal and dedicated to family. Brad was asking her to do something that went against every belief, every instinct she had. They argued back and forth, and finally Serena broke the engagement. She couldn’t live with a man who was so heartless; it made her wonder how long Brad would have stuck by her if she’d taken ill. Not long, she supposed. She didn’t regret her decision.

All her waking hours and many fretful nights were spent thinking of ways to make money. She used her talent as an artist to get a contract with a local greeting-card company, but it took a long time to receive her payments. She also painted portraits. Children were her specialty and she had a number of commissions lined up, but it still wasn’t enough to meet the bills. They would make it, though, she vowed.

She entered her grandparents’ room and stopped for a moment. There were pictures of her all over. The decor was done in different shades of blue, from deep cobalt to baby blue. The bedspread and drapes were a floral chintz, as were the cushions in various chairs. As a child, she’d called this the blue room, and it was her favorite place. Each morning when she woke up, she’d run across the hall to her grandparents’ room and jump into their bed, snuggling between them. So much love, so much happiness… She choked back a sob. She’d wondered many times how her grandfather could do this to them, how he could hide their financial reality, but she knew he’d done it out of love. And now she’d have to do the same thing.

She crossed to the divan in the small sitting room and picked up her grandmother’s purse. She removed a key and walked to the dresser, where she opened her jewelry box. Among the jewels was a small wooden box. Serena popped the lid and stared at the diamond earrings lying on a bed of velvet. Her grandfather had given them to Aurora on their wedding day. They’d belonged to his mother and someday they’d belong to Serena. Jasmine was supposed to have worn them on her own wedding day, but at eighteen she’d eloped, to the heartbreak of Aurora and Henry, especially since they disapproved of her choice of husband. Jasmine became estranged from her parents soon after that. Then she and her husband were killed, and Aurora and Henry gladly took Serena.

Serena didn’t know much about that time, and she knew nothing about her father. Her grandparents refused to even mention his name. They held him responsible for Jasmine’s death. Serena shook her head. She was getting sidetracked.

She glanced down at the diamonds in her hand, remembering how Grandfather had told her she’d wear them at her wedding and her eyes would sparkle as bright as the diamonds. Well, the wedding was off and the only thing that made her eyes sparkle these days was tears.

She took the diamonds across to her room and slipped them into her purse. She’d hock them and buy a fake set, replacing them so her grandmother wouldn’t know. Her eyesight was getting so bad she wouldn’t see the difference. As long as there were earrings in the box, she’d be satisfied. Gran didn’t wear them, anyway. She always wore the diamonds and pearls Grandfather had given her for their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. Serena turned and caught sight of herself in the mirror.

Liar, thief, an unfamiliar red-haired woman seemed to say.

She stepped closer to the mirror. Was that her? She had a desperate look about her that she didn’t recognize.

Oh, God, she was stealing from her grandmother, but what else could she do? Losing the diamonds was better than losing their home, she tried telling the woman in the mirror. Then why did she feel like the lowest creature on earth?

She sank onto the bed and refused to let sentiment drag her down. She had to do this for Gran and herself. She’d do anything to keep Aurora happy and comfortable—even lie and steal. No one was making them leave this house, not as long as she had breath in her body. And if she had a hard time looking at herself, she’d sell all the mirrors, too.

She got up and went to fix lunch. In the doorway she paused and rested her forehead against the doorjamb. The weight of all her problems paralyzed her for a moment. Her grandfather had told her that behind every cloud was a rainbow…not that he acknowledged many clouds in his world. Oh, Grandfather, where’s my rainbow? She needed one—desperately. Just one tiny rainbow. And a handsome stranger with a heart of gold wouldn’t hurt, either. Suddenly Ethan Ramsey flashed into her mind and she thought of the stripper who looked like her. He didn’t seem to be a man who would lie. So was there a woman out there who looked like her? She let herself think about it for a moment. Since she didn’t know anything about her father, there could be a cousin who resembled her, someone she’d never heard of.

She pulled Ethan Ramsey’s card from her pocket. He’d said he wanted to help her. It was probably a line, just as she’d told Daisy. What did it matter? She was wasting her time thinking about it; she had enough problems. On her way out the door, she threw the card in the trash.

CHAPTER TWO

DRIVING HOME, Ethan couldn’t get the redhead out of his mind. Was she an expert liar or was something else going on? The woman of the night before was afraid and had a hard edge that suggested she’d been living a rough lifestyle. He recognized that immediately. The woman today was a complete contradiction. She was softer and had a veneer and polish that came with wealth and privilege. If she was stripping against her will, that would account for the fear he’d seen yesterday, but it didn’t explain the hardness. What was the woman’s secret?

As he drove across the cattle guard, dust spiraled behind him. He was home in Junction Flat, Texas, a small ranching community of less than a thousand near San Antonio. There was a saying in Junction Flat: “Don’t let the mesquite, the cactus and the rattlesnakes get to you. Junction Flat is a good place to live.” And it was—this was where Ethan had always gone when things got too hard, and he planned on staying here for the rest of his life.

A few years ago Pop had given the ranch to his three children, with the stipulation that he be able to live on the property until his death. Molly and Travis didn’t have any interest in ranching and sold their shares to Ethan. So the entire ranch now belonged to Ethan, and he was content living out his retirement in his quiet, rustic hometown.

Before he drove around back to the garage, he noticed Bruce’s Mercedes parked in front of the white sandstone house. He frowned, wondering why his ex-brother-in-law was here. Since the divorce, which was finalized two months ago, Bruce and Molly hadn’t spoken, as far as he knew. There was only one reason Bruce would come out here and face everyone—Cole, his seventeen-year-old son.

When he climbed out of his truck and walked toward the house, he heard raised voices. As soon as he entered the kitchen, everyone grew quiet. Pop was holding Molly, who was sobbing into his chest. Cole was screaming at his father, “Get out and leave us alone!” When he saw Ethan, he said, “Make him leave, Uncle Ethan!”

“Son, I just want to talk to you,” Bruce begged.

“I never want to speak to you again.” With that, Cole turned and stormed out the back door.

Ethan took a long breath. Bruce had a right to see his son, but Cole had refused to see or talk to Bruce since he’d found out about his father’s betrayal. His mother’s pain had only increased the boy’s feelings. The situation was volatile and emotions still ran high. It was time for everyone to cool off.

Ethan looked at Bruce. “I think you’d better go,” he said firmly. He walked to the front door and held it open.

Bruce’s features tightened and Ethan could see he was undecided, but at last made a sound of exasperation and headed for the front door. Ethan followed him out onto the long veranda

“Ethan, I want to talk to my son.” Bruce shoved a hand through his blond hair. His eyes were green like Cole’s.

As much as Ethan hated what Bruce had done to Molly, he understood his desire to see Cole. Cole was the innocent victim in Bruce and Molly’s divorce, and neither seemed willing to make it easier for him.

“He just needs some time,” was the only thing Ethan could think of to say.

“Molly’s turned him against me.”

“Don’t lay that at Molly’s feet,” Ethan told him, although he knew it was partly true. “You’re the reason Cole’s upset. He’s old enough to know what’s going on.”

“You’re a man, Ethan. I thought you’d understand.”

Ethan grunted in disgust. “I understand that a twenty-year-old is more attractive than the thirty-five-year-old mother of your child.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Bruce denied.

“Who are you trying to kid?”

“Molly and I were having problems. You knew that. Hell, everyone knew, but Molly chose to ignore them. She wouldn’t listen to me and I got tired of banging my head against that rock-solid pride of hers.”

Ethan had been away during the early years of Bruce and Molly’s marriage, but since he’d settled in Junction Flat five years ago, he’d become aware of the tension between Molly and Bruce. Last year things had intensified, and Molly had stayed at the ranch some nights because she and Bruce had argued. Bruce worked all the time, she complained, while he said Molly was too involved with Cole’s school. Cole was on various sports teams and Molly never missed a game. Bruce attended as many as he could, but he was often out of town. Another issue between them was that Molly volunteered for anything and everything, even though Bruce had asked her not to. Then, when Bruce was home, he liked to go to the club and play golf. Another problem. Molly hated golf. Their spats never lasted long and by the next morning they always made up. Ethan was careful to stay out of their affairs. He did support his sister, though.

“I don’t want to hear this about Molly,” he said in a warning tone.

“Your sister’s not an easy person to live with.”