Page 3

Chapter

One

DALLAS

K elby Blackstone bid her assistant goodnight and returned to her office.

She tidied up her desk and switched off her computer.

Glancing at her watch, she still had a quarter-hour before she needed to leave and walk downstairs to meet Celia and Jessica for dinner.

The three had cheered together in college and had also been sorority sisters.

Once she moved to Dallas after her divorce, they had decided to meet once a month for dinner and girl talk.

Those women had saved her sanity.

Tonight, they were meeting at a restaurant in NorthPark Center, Kelby and Jessica’s turf.

Kelby worked for clothiers Wyndham & Warren, running their social media, while Jessica was a buyer for an exclusive men’s store.

Both businesses were a part of the over two hundred stores and restaurants in the shopping mall, one which had survived the death of malls across America, thanks to its unique, one-of-a-kind, upscale stores which appealed to Dallas shoppers.

She picked up her cell and started scrolling through favorite sites.

It surprised her that West Sutherland was still getting a lot of press three days after his retirement announcement at the conclusion of the Super Bowl.

Although she never watched football anymore, she knew West was one of the premier players in the NFL.

She couldn’t imagine why he was walking away at the height of his career.

Then again, they had lost touch years ago.

West had been her brother Chance’s best friend, and he had been at home visiting Blackstone Ranch.

After he broke up with his girlfriend during their last year in high school, West had asked Kelby if she would accompany him to the big senior events that spring.

They had gone to prom together, as well as the senior breakfast and several graduation parties.

He had kissed her—once—after that final party.

More of a thank you for giving him company during the many events.

Both had been surprised by their reaction to the kiss.

What had started as a friendly one had turned steamy.

Fast. Thoughts of West being like a brother to her had fled, replaced by a deep yearning.

When the kiss ended, they looked at one another.

Both had agreed that while something was definitely there, they were headed in different directions and agreed it would be foolish to start up something which couldn’t be finished.

West left a few weeks later for Texas A&M, while Kelby moved to Austin to cheer at the University of Texas.

They saw one another some during college vacations but had not seen one another since graduation, too busy with their adult lives.

She knew Chance heard from West every now and then, but that was it.

Sometimes, though, when she saw a picture on West’s Instagram, escorting another beautiful model or actress somewhere, she couldn’t help but wonder what might have been.

Her cell buzzed with a text from Jessica, telling her that she was heading to the restaurant where they were meeting. Kelby left her office and proceeded to the first floor of NorthPark, ready for a couple of hours of Mexican food and girl talk.

Jessica was waiting with Celia in front of the restaurant, and they exchanged greetings.

“I’m so glad to see you two,” she declared.

“Well, you saw me Sunday night,” Jessica said. “What a game.”

Kelby had attended the Super Bowl party at her friend’s house, mainly to watch the halftime performance and clever commercials.

She had talked with all the women present, glancing up every now and then when the guys whooped, watching the replay.

West had been a part of those cheers, catching three touchdown passes, one in the final seconds, the game winner.

He and the Cowboys quarterback had been named Co-MVPs, something which hadn’t happened since the1970s, when another pair of Cowboys claimed the honor.

“It was a good game,” Celia added, telling the hostess there would be three of them. “But I fell asleep on the sofa and missed the end.”

They were taken to their table and looked over the menu. When the server arrived and asked for their drink orders, Kelby ordered a margarita, on the rocks, no salt. Jessica asked for a frozen margarita with salt.

“And for you?” the server asked, looking to Celia. “Another margarita?”

“No, just water with lemon for me, please,” her friend said. “I haven’t had a margarita since our college days. I got sick on tequila shots and haven’t tried tequila since.”

“I’ll get your drinks right out,” the server promised.

Celia looked eagerly at them, and Kelby had a good idea why.

“Okay. I can’t hold this in any longer. I’m pregnant!”

They squealed, jumping to their feet and exchanging hugs.

“When are you due?” Kelby asked.

“Mid-August. And no, I don’t look forward to being big as a whale during the heat of a Texas summer. Last time when I was pregnant with Sam, I wound up wearing oversized T-shirts and underwear around the house during all of June and July.”

“You’re due right when you start back to school,” Jessica noted. “How long of a maternity leave will you be able to take?”

Celia beamed. “I’m not. Dan just got a promotion a few months ago. Better title. More money. He said I can stay home.”

“That’s terrific news,” Kelby said, knowing how much her friend enjoyed being a mom.

“Two should be it for us,” Celia continued. “The plan is for me to stay home until this one starts kinder.” She rubbed her belly. “I’m hoping for a girl this time. We won’t tell Sam for a while. I know he’ll want a baby brother.”

“We’ll have to talk about a shower once you know the gender,” Jessica said.

“If it’s a boy, I know he can wear Sam’s hand-me-downs,” Kelby said. “But Wyndham & Warren has such cute clothes for baby girls. And remember, I get a huge discount.”

Their drinks came, and they ordered appetizers and dinners. Talk ranged from what they were doing at work to the latest books they’d read and movies they’d seen. While they were waiting for the check, Kelby pulled out her phone and brought up a page of baby clothes, which they oohed and ahhed over.

She set her cell down as the server brought their check.

It was her turn to pay. They’d found it was easier to simply rotate between the three of them than have separate checks brought to them each time.

She handed over her credit card, and the others thanked her as the bill was processed. She signed and added a generous tip.

Then her phone started blowing up. Ping after ping. Frowning, she picked it up, hearing Celia and Jessica’s cells also start getting multiple texts. She began reading.

Have you seen the news???

Brace yourself, Kelby. Turn on the news.

Glad you divorced his ass.

That last message let her know something was going down with Bax. A sick feeling washed over her. She glanced up, seeing her two friends looking worriedly at her.

“I need to use the ladies’ room,” she said succinctly, leaving the table, cell in hand.

She entered the restroom and a stall, locking it behind her. Immediately, she googled Bax Porter’s name. The screaming headlines jolted her. Bax had been arrested.

For murder.

Kelby leaned against the stall’s door, taking deep breaths.

Her ex-husband had turned out to be a horrible mess.

In college, he could do no wrong, being named the Heisman Trophy winner his senior year.

He was the first draft pick that spring.

They had wed after graduation and before he went to training camp.

Then the fall from grace began.

First, he tore his ACL in the last game of the preseason, just as he’d been named the starting quarterback for the regular season.

The surgery was complicated, and the rehab was brutal.

Bax had verbally abused her, taking out all his frustrations on Kelby.

She had been patient. Sympathetic. And never argued back.

Football was Bax’s life, and he hated sitting on the sidelines, letting down his teammates and himself.

After his return to training camp the next summer, things went downhill.

He was too tentative. Bax had been known as a scrambler, leaving the pocket and often running down field when he couldn’t find an open receiver.

Now, he was afraid to run. To throw. When he did throw, his timing was off.

He blamed the receivers. The coaching staff.

The plays being called. He lost his starting job to the same quarterback who had replaced him, a guy drafted in the sixth round the previous year.

Bax became so bitter and impossible to be around that the Browns had traded him.

That meant Kelby had to give up the terrific job she’d found once they’d moved to Cleveland.

The nomadic years began then. Bax bounced from one ball club to another, five teams in all.

He only started once when the current starter had the flu and had thrown up so much he was hospitalized.

Bax continued to suffer injuries, big and small alike.

His attitude went from bad to worse. She had followed him around the country, leaving job after job, until it was hard for her to even find one.

His drinking had escalated. Then Kelby had found the cocaine, which was the final straw for her.

When she confronted her husband about his drug use, he gave her excuse after excuse.

She told him she’d had enough and wanted a divorce.

That’s when he’d hit her.

Bax had never struck her before. She had seen other women in abusive relationships and determined never to be one of them.

Kelby immediately packed her things and left, contacting a divorce lawyer.

They had very little. He had refused to buy a house because he was traded so often.

No kids, so no problems there regarding custody issues.

She’d later learned that he had a gambling problem, which had also eaten into what money they did have.

Blinking rapidly at the tears forming in her eyes, she continued to read, discovering her ex had shot a bookie whom he’d owed a lot of money to.

His booking picture was already circulating online, causing her stomach to cramp painfully.

She had taken back her maiden name after their divorce.

No one at Wyndham & Warren knew Baxley Porter was her former husband.

But it would come out. Already, she was seeing pictures of Bax and her in the stories, mentioning their divorce.

She’d lose all privacy in the next few weeks.

Her name would be on the internet. Reporters would hound her.

She’d had a stable job and life the past five years, but that would be a thing of the past. Being in social media—and knowing how Wyndham & Warren valued their sterling reputation—she knew she was merely part of the fallout.

Should she resign?

Kelby shut off her phone and left the stall, taking a wet paper towel and dabbing cold water on her face. She looked in the mirror. The confident, capable woman she was used to seeing looked hollow.

And scared.

She returned to the table, Jessica and Celia giving her worried glances.

“Are you all right?” Celia asked.

“No. But I’ll have to deal with it. I may not be able to eat in public for a while. Let’s cancel next month’s dinner, and then we’ll see,” she said brusquely, wanting to hurry home and lock the door and hide from the world.

“Don’t shut us out,” Jessica begged.

“I just need to be alone,” she explained.

They left the restaurant, and already, Kelby saw shoppers looking her way. She held her head high as they walked through the mall.

“Let us know if we can do anything,” Celia told her.

Both women hugged her, and Kelby went to her car. She drove home and went inside her apartment, rushing to the bathroom, where she lost all her dinner. She cried as she washed her face and brushed her teeth, wishing the curse of Bax Porter would finally leave her.

She decided to text Chance. He ignored social media and the news, so he would have no idea of the maelstrom coming. Her brother and the Blackstone Ranch wouldn’t be immune. Journalists dug deeply with a story like this one, and they would talk to everyone who had even a remote connection to Bax.

When she turned her phone on, she saw not only a plethora of texts but several missed calls.

Nine of them were from Chance.

Her hands shaking, she listened to his voice mails, wanting to know what he knew before she returned his call.

The first two just told her to call him.

The next few, she heard the impatience in his voice as he asked her to call him back.

Listening to his final voicemail, she heard, “Do you ever answer your damn phone? Call me!”

Things must have gotten bad quickly. Kelby touched his picture, and the phone rang once before he answered.

“About time,” he said grumpily.

She heard the weariness in his voice.

“I’m sorry, Chance. After the news broke, I just turned off my cell. That’s why I didn’t get your calls. Everything about Bax is?—”

“Bax? What the hell did that creep do now?”

Confused, she asked, “You’re not calling me about Bax?”

“No. I don’t give a rat’s ass about that loser.”

Taking a deep breath, she told him, “He was arrested for murder. Already, I’m seeing the story splashed everywhere, along with old pictures of the two of us.” She hesitated. “Then if it’s not about Bax, what is so important?”

A long pause, then her brother said, “It’s Dad, Kelby. He’s had a stroke. The doctors don’t know if he’ll make it.”