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Sitting at the table in his Tucson condo, Casey opened the manila envelope that Val had sent him last fall—the one he’d received after he’d learned about the son she’d given up. There were three things inside—the damning letter from Val’s father, threatening to jail the man who’d gotten the seventeen-year-old pregnant; a photocopy of the birth certificate; and the Polaroid photo of an exhausted Val, cradling the baby she was about to surrender.
Casey pushed the letter aside. He already knew that Bert Champion had refused to let Val come home with her child. It was the other two objects that tore at his heart—the birth certificate, naming him as the baby’s father, and the photo, barely showing a tiny rosebud face with a thatch of fiery hair.
It was surprising that Val would have been given these souvenirs. Maybe hospital regulations had allowed it, or maybe some kind soul had taken pity on the young girl who would never see her baby again—and due to complications, would never have another child.
All Casey knew of his son was in this evidence Val had given him. He had tried to be satisfied with that, but it had never been enough. After months of agonizing, he had contacted the detective who specialized in such matters for an exorbitant fee. The money didn’t matter. Casey had been saving to buy a house, but finding his boy was more important.
He stared down at his phone where it lay on the table. Should he call Val and tell her his news—that the detective had received a copy of the adoption record, and that he now knew the names of the adoptive parents and where they’d been living at the time?
He reached for the phone, then forced his hand to stop. He had promised not to tell Val what he’d found. She wanted no part of it. As she said, she’d already suffered enough. That was why he’d left her at the ranch and returned to the condo.
Casey understood why she felt as she did. But even though his search had driven a wedge between them, he couldn’t give up, not when he was so close.
He reached for the phone again, picking it up this time. Maybe if he could hear her voice—just talk about everyday things, like how her day had gone and how her family was doing, the awful sense of separation would ease. Maybe if he didn’t mention his quest to find their son, things would be all right between them.
He scrolled to her number. The phone rang once on the other end. Then he ended the call. He couldn’t trust himself not to give her the news. And that, he knew, would only make things worse between them.
* * *
Val pulled the jangling phone out of her purse. Her pulse quickened as she saw Casey’s name on the caller ID screen. But before she could answer, the call was gone. Had he lost the connection? The cell phone service at the ranch had improved since last year, though it still wasn’t the best.
But she knew better. Casey had started to call her, then had second thoughts. And she wasn’t about to put him on the spot by calling him back and asking what he wanted.
Laying the phone on the coffee table, she opened the screen door and walked out onto the porch. The night was warm, the smoke smell from the house fire still lingering in the air. The rising moon cast shadows across the yard.
Lexie was stretched out on the chaise, her belly as round as a bread loaf ready for the oven. The dog raised his head and wagged his tail as Val pulled up one of the lawn chairs and sat down next to her. The two women were alone. From the house, she could hear the sound of Shane working out in his weight room. Tess was doing some research on the office computer.
“Did I just hear your phone ring?” Lexie asked.
“Wrong number,” Val lied. But something told her Lexie wasn’t fooled.
“I don’t even know what you’re doing here, Val. You’ve been wandering around looking lost while your man’s in Tucson with a sprained ankle. If I were you, I’d be on the road to him, or at least on the phone. What’s wrong between you two anyway? If you need to talk, you know I’m a good listener.”
Val scrambled for a clever reply but came up empty. Maybe it would help to talk. She’d already confided in Tess. But Lexie, so close to becoming a mother, would understand as no one else in the family would.
She shifted the chair closer to her sister. Painfully at first, then spilling out of her, the story emerged.
Lexie reached out and squeezed Val’s hand. “I want to cry every time I think of how hard it must’ve been for you. Dad should’ve let you come home. If he had, everything would be different now.”
“I know. And I understand what Casey must be going through. But what will he do if he finds the boy? The adoption was legal. If he tries to contact his son, he could be arrested. And if he sees the boy and can’t go near him or have any kind of relationship with him—Lexie, it will break his heart. And me—I gave up my baby to give him a happy life. And then I had to walk away because it was my only hope of finding peace. But it wasn’t enough. I turned to drugs and alcohol and men to kill the pain.”
Val’s cheeks were wet. She tasted the salt of her own tears. “Casey wants me with him in this. But I can’t walk away a second time. I can’t go through that hell again.”
“Oh, Val.” Lexie’s clasp tightened on Val’s hand. “When I think about how awful it would be to give birth to my baby and then have him taken—I can’t even imagine how that must have been for you. But think about Casey. You’re both hurting. He needs you. And you need him. What good will it do if you stay apart and won’t even speak to each other?”
Val stood, pulling her hand away. “I know you mean well, Lexie. But if Casey insists on going ahead with this madness, he’ll have to do it alone. Maybe when it’s over, and he’s been burned and wounded by what he found, we’ll be able to put the pieces back together. Or maybe we never will.”
Half-blinded by tears, Val opened the screen door and walked back into the house. Her phone lay on the coffee table, where she’d left it. She picked it up. Maybe Lexie was right. If ever there was a time when Casey needed her, it was now. It wouldn’t take much. All she’d have to do was scroll to his number, call him, and say the right words.
Could she do it? Could she support Casey in his search and risk bringing back her old demons?
For the space of a long breath Val stared down at the phone. Then she shook her head, switched it off, and thrust it back into her purse.
* * *
Quicksand’s triumph was followed a week later by another high-scoring buck-off in Wickenburg. Tess was over the moon. The only thing she missed was sharing the victory with Brock, who’d told her that the one-horned bull was nothing but trouble. She’d have relished facing him and saying,“See, I told you so.”
In the excitement, she’d almost forgotten the contract papers she’d left with her friend and lawyer, Andrea Simonelli. But the matter had been in the back of her mind, and she knew that the business with Brock and the hayfields needed to be settled.
