Chapter 1
Tyler, Texas
“I will not abandon my children!” Stephen Hicks faced off with his mother-in-law in a doily-covered front parlor that felt more like a dusty street at high noon.
His adversary might not be wearing a six-gun, but her narrowed eyes and the determined set of her chin rivaled that of a cold-blooded outlaw.
“No, you’ll just tear them from the only home they’ve ever known.
From the grandparents who love them. They belong here.
With us. Taking them away is a cruel, heartless thing to do.
But I guess I should expect nothing less from a criminal.
” Scorn dripped from each word that managed to squeeze through Delores Endicott’s pursed lips.
“You’re a selfish, despicable man, Stephen Hicks, and I rue the day my daughter met you. ”
The woman sure knew where to aim. Stephen fought back a wince as her bullet slammed into his guilty conscience.
Was she right? Was he being selfish, tearing Miranda and Cody from all they’d ever known?
They would have a comfortable life with their grandparents.
A nice home to live in. Enough money to ensure they had everything they could possibly need. Everything but their father.
Stephen straightened his shoulders and lifted his chin.
He knew what growing up with an absent father did to a kid.
Made him question his worth. Built a desperation within him to gain masculine approval from wherever he could find it.
Put a chip on his shoulder and a hole in his heart.
He’d not do that to his kids. He loved them too much to let them think for even a moment that he didn’t want them.
They were his life, and he couldn’t bear to leave them with a woman whose hatred and disapproval of him would taint every memory they had of their father.
Delores’s poison had already started seeping into his seven-year-old daughter, turning Miranda petulant whenever he broached the subject of leaving.
Tightening the reins on his rising temper, he controlled his tone so as not to alarm his children, who were in their grandfather’s study down the hall, picking out a storybook from his collection to take with them on the train.
“Do you think I want to leave? Rebekah and I planned to make our home here, to raise our children here. But I can’t do that if I can’t work, and thanks to you, no one in town will hire me. ”
Two weeks ago, an article ran in the Tyler Daily Courier that tied him to the notorious Cutler Outfit—a group of outlaws wanted for train heists, bank robberies, horse thievery, and cattle rustling.
The reporter had dug up evidence on Stephen’s arrest in 1876 for petty larceny when he’d been sixteen.
Identified him as “Kid” Hicks, a known associate of Hank Cutler.
When Stephen’s boss at the mill learned his history, he’d fired him.
Said he was bad for business. Ten days of looking for other work hammered the point home that no one else in town was interested in hiring a former outlaw, either.
He could count on two fingers the number of people in this town who’d known the truth about his past prior to that article’s appearance, and only one would stoop to such tactics. The one standing in front of him.
Delores had never approved of him, despite her daughter’s pleas to give him a chance.
Rebekah’s love had changed him, had sewn together the ragged holes in his soul with the same tidy stitches she used to make the dresses she sold in her father’s mercantile.
Thanks to her influence over the last decade, he’d become a man of faith, a man of family, a man forgiven.
At least by his wife and the Almighty. His mother-in-law offered no such absolution.
She refused to see him as anything other than a criminal and was determined to save her grandchildren from his influence.
Even if it meant committing larceny herself by stealing his son and daughter out from under him.
Delores gave a haughty sniff as she tightened her hold on the shawl encircling her shoulders.
“I did what had to be done to protect my grandchildren, and I won’t be made the villain.
It was Rebekah’s wish that her father and I raise the children should anything happen to her.
You know that. Had you signed the custodial order when we brought it to you, all this unpleasantness could have been avoided. ”
Sign an order to forfeit his kids? Not a chance. “It was Rebekah’s wish that the two of you raise the children if anything happened to both of us. I’m still here, and despite your attempts to usurp my position, I am still Miranda and Cody’s father, and I will decide what is best for them.”
Done with the conversation, Stephen turned his back and headed for the hall to fetch his children.
“Rebekah never should have married you,” Delores shouted at his back. “She deserved better.”
The grief quivering in her voice stirred a hint of compassion in his chest. He halted and twisted to look behind him.
“On that point we agree. But I thank God every day that she chose me anyway. Your daughter saved me, Mrs. Endicott, and I will love her for the rest of my days. I will tell stories about her to our children to keep her memory alive, and I’ll make sure they know that she loved them with her entire being.
She will not be forgotten. On that you have my word. ”
“As if the word of a criminal is worth anything.”
His jaw clenched over the caustic rebuttal that leapt onto his tongue.
Nothing he could say would change her opinion of him.
Best he leave it alone and keep whatever peace could be salvaged.
She was Rebekah’s mother, and he’d not dishonor his late wife’s memory by insulting the woman who brought her into the world, no matter how strong the temptation.
Stephen strode down the hall. “Miranda? Cody? Time to go.”
Three-year-old Cody ran out of the study, a smile on his face as he stretched his arms wide. Stephen grinned and scooped the boy into his arms. “Ready to ride the choo-choo?”
Cody clapped his pudgy palms together, his glee instantly lightening Stephen’s heart. “Choo-choo! Choo-choo!”
Miranda looked less enthused. She stood in the doorway, a storybook pressed to her chest behind stubbornly crossed arms. “We want to stay here. You can’t make us go!”
Stephen bit back a sigh. “Actually, I can.” After shifting Cody over to his left side, he plucked his daughter off the ground with his right arm and tossed her over his shoulder like one of the sacks of grain he used to cart about at the mill.
She squealed and squirmed, drawing her gasping grandmother in from the other room to demand he unhand her at once.
He ignored them both, nodded to Rebekah’s father—who’d never been one to engage in dramatics, thank heaven—and marched out to where his loaded wagon waited out front.
He’d already delivered their crated furniture to the depot that morning to be loaded on the freight cars while Miranda and Cody enjoyed a final visit with their grandparents.
Four trunks and two satchels sat in the wagon bed, containing clothes, linens, and personal items, including a good-sized stash of Rebekah’s things he hadn’t had the heart to leave behind.
Keith Webber, one of the few friends left to him after the article destroyed his reputation, planned to meet him at the depot to reclaim the wagon and team he’d loaned Stephen and to give him the letter of recommendation he’d promised.
Keith’s cousin ran a grist mill over in Albany, and Keith had somehow convinced the man to give Stephen a job.
God had opened the door, and whether Stephen’s daughter liked it or not, they were walking through it.