What the Heart Wants (What the Heart Wants, #1)(75)

As soon as he hit the highway, a semi roared up behind him, swerved to pass him on the right, swung back in front of him, then abruptly slowed down so that he had to slam on his brakes to avoid a rear-end collision.

Fucking son of a bitch! What if Chloe had to deal with a crazy driver like Mr. Big Rig? She hadn’t been driving very long. In fact, she’d just gotten her license a couple of months ago. Visions of Lolly’s bloody corpse being featured on San Antonio’s notoriously lurid news stations flashed through his brain.

He turned the radio up louder to drown out his imagination and raised his speed another five miles, which at least kept him up with that damn truck.

Shit! What the hell did he think he was accomplishing by driving to San Antonio? It had made sense for him to check out Bosque Bend last time because Reverend Ed’s house was a slam dunk—but where was Lolly headed in San Antonio? He was clueless about how to even begin looking. But he had to try. He had to be on the scene. No way he could sit on his hands and expect Girl Child to come home on her own. And Laurel couldn’t help him this time.

Laurel. Everything kept circling back to Laurel.

Maybe, if he found Lolly and chained her to the Cadillac doorframe, he could stop in to see Laurel on his way back to Dallas. But what would he say? I love you, but I don’t know how to handle it? I can’t separate the person you are from the person your father turned out to be?

Lolly and Laurel. His daughter kept running away from him, and—let’s face it—he’d run away from Laurel. Lolly’s situation was the more pressing right now, but after he found her, he’d see to Laurel. Maybe then he could get rid of this depression, this sense of unreality, of hovering in space, that had been with him since that evening in the Bosque Club.

Ignoring the exit to Bosque Bend, he hit Waco during five o’clock traffic, which slowed him down a little, but wasn’t too bad. He glanced at the cars on either side of him. Had he already passed Chloe on the highway? He had no idea of what her car looked like except that it was little and red, which meant it could be anything from a smart car to a BMW coupe.

Well, at least Lolly had learned her lesson about riding with somebody’s dicey brother. He was fit to be tied when she’d confessed that escapade to him.

A narrow crescent moon was climbing the inky night sky when he finally reached the sprawling outskirts of San Antonio. He lowered his speed and turned off the radio. Maybe his first stop should be the police station, wherever that was. But the situation was like before—Lolly was a runaway, not a kidnap victim. Maybe he wouldn’t have had to say anything at all if he’d brought Laurel back to Dallas with him. Would a stepmother have satisfied her? His mind showed him a quick snapshot of Laurel flapping her light robe at him as she raced around the house, and he snorted to himself—as if Lolly would be his primary reason for marrying Laurel!

It didn’t matter anyway. Whatever he could have done, he hadn’t done it, and Lolly was all alone somewhere in San Antonio, searching for someone whom he hoped to hell didn’t even exist anymore.

*



Hugo rose from his usual place at Laurel’s feet, raised his hackles, and barked a warning just before the doorbell rang.

Thank goodness his leg cast was off.

Laurel still wasn’t sure Hugo had become an indoor dog. The backyard was fully fenced, originally to keep dogs out rather than in, but he’d looked so lonely out there that she kept inviting him inside—or maybe she was the lonely one.

The big dog accompanied her to the door and stood back politely as she opened it further than she used to, but not all the way. Betsy Simcek’s outburst might have reminded someone else of how her father had betrayed the town’s trust.

It was Lolly again, weeping and clinging to the arm of a tall, dark-haired girl.

The girl gave Lolly a beseeching look. “I’m Chloe, and I—I just wanted to help Lolly find her roots. I drove her to San Antonio to meet her mother and everything turned out wrong. She said to bring her here. She wants to be with you. Is—is it all right?”

“It’s just fine,” Laurel said as Lolly continued to weep and Hugo began to whimper in sympathy. “Come in, ladies.” She used her most soothing voice, holding the screen open all the way. “We’ll all sit down in the kitchen and I’ll fix you some tea.”

Chloe glanced toward the red MINI Cooper at the curb. “I can’t stay. I have to be home by ten. Here’s her purse.” She handed a pink leather concoction to Laurel, and moved Lolly gently forward so that she slumped against the doorframe.

Laurel reached out to support Lolly, at the same time giving Chloe a quick smile of farewell. “Don’t worry, honey. I’ll take care of Lolly.”

She put an arm around Lolly’s waist, walked her inside, and guided her back to the kitchen, making what she hoped were comforting noises the whole way.

As soon as Lolly sat down at the big table, Hugo moved in to snuffle at the back of her knees, then moved around to lick her hand.

Lolly wiped her nose with a sodden tissue and looked him. “You—you got a dog.”

“His name is Hugo, and he’s very gentle.”

The big dog rested his head in Lolly’s lap while Laurel plopped her purse—a cute little novelty clutch ruffled like a rose—down on the table in front of her.

Lolly stroked his high-domed head. “Good boy.”