Page 68 of Halfway to Hell
Waving to his mom as she tried to wrangle the brothers, he slipped back inside. He stood quietly for a long minute, watching Sunday lying peacefully with her eyes closed, their son nuzzled against her chest.
Reaching up, he placed a hand over the wedding ring hidden beneath his shirt. Closing his eyes, he thought of Lisa.I’m happy. I’m loved again.Those silent words were sent to her, hoping she knew he was okay—that he was whole again.
“Texas.”
“Hey, sweetheart. I thought you were sleeping.” Texas stepped up to the bed, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “Can I get you anything?”
“No. I’m good.” But inside, Sunday wrestled with things she needed to know—and things she wanted to ask. Had he done something to Dalton? She tried to push aside Roach’s wordsfrom the orchard, but they nagged at her. She hated to bring it up.
“Ask me. Let’s just get it over with,” Texas said softly as he traced a finger along the baby’s forehead.
“Did you do something to Dalton? Roach said he was attacked—and he didn’t want to hear anything about me being in St. Tite.”
Texas didn’t reveal everything—he was a firm believer that the fewer people knew, the safer everyone was from being caught. “I talked to him about how he should treat women. I might have told him that if he ever came near you again, he’d pay for it.”
“Is that all?”
Texas smirked, a hint of mischief in his voice, “I might’ve sent that message a little more forcefully.”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For taking care of me.”
“I’ll always take care of you. And August. You can count on that, sweetheart.” It was an unspoken vow, he’d die for them. Kill for them.
He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead before scooping up their son, cradling him close. “Get some rest until August’s ready to eat again. We’ll be right here in the recliner.”
Sunday smiled softly, watching Texas with their baby. A wave of pure joy washed over her, filling every corner of her heart. Happier than she’d ever imagined possible. And she loved her boys more fiercely than she could have ever dreamed.
For a moment, a quiet sadness settled over her when she thought about her childhood. It wasn’t that her mother didn’t know how to love—more like she chose not to. The thought of her mother led Sunday’s mind to Monday. They hadn’t spoken since she’d come to the farm.
Sunday knew Texas had sent money back to her sister, even though he didn’t have to. Still, she wondered if Monday ever thought about her. Maybe, once the baby was a few months old, Monday would reach out. Maybe there was still a chance for them to be a family.
If she and Texas could find love with each other, then maybe—just maybe—there was hope for her and Monday too.
THE END