She set down her fork and said, “Dinner was good. Thank you. But if I’m going to talk, I need to walk.”
Boone reached for his wallet and threw a couple of twenties on the table. “Trinity Park is one block away. Want to go there?”
“Sure.”
Hannah glanced between the pair and suggested, “Why don’t I let you two have time to yourselves? I’ll go on back to the hotel.”
Boone questioned Rachel with a glance. She said, “You’ll be her caretaker. Nothing I’m going to tell him is a secret. Come with us.”
Hannah agreed and excused herself to visit the ladies’ room. While Boone watched her cross the restaurant, Rachel watched him. Then she observed, “You have a thing for her.”
Boone gave her a sidelong look. “It’s that obvious?”
“Definitely some starry sparkle in your eyes. She told me she’s just your travel nanny.”
“Yeah. For now. We’ll see.”
“What’s it like? This little town where you live—Eternity Springs?”
Boone gazed through the restaurant’s west-facing windows where ripples of heat visibly radiated from the parking lot outside. “I imagine it’s about forty degrees cooler right this minute, for one thing. It’s early for the weather to be this hot. It doesn’t bode well for the next few months. I’d forgotten how brutal the heat could be here in the summer.”
“When was the last time you were home?”
“To Texas?”
“Fort Worth.”
He shook his head. “This is my first time back.”
“Whoa. You were serious about telling the lawyers and judge and social workers all to go blow, weren’t you?”
“Yep. I pretty much was.”
“Hmm.”
Hannah rejoined them. As they walked the block and a half toward the park, he responded to Rachel’s question about Eternity Springs. He included those aspects he found particularly appealing because they were important for both women to hear. Rachel needed to know it was an excellent place for her daughter, and relaying the good press continued his subtle campaign to convince Hannah to stay.
They reached the park and the shade provided by the full, spreading branches of hundreds of live oaks and elms. With a thick layer of grass rather than concrete beneath their feet, the temperature felt like it dropped at least ten degrees. The evening air rang with the laughter of a group of children playing hide-and-go-seek among the trees and with the fainter sound of an orchestra playing John Philip Sousa. It must be the Fort Worth Symphony’s Concert in the Park, Boone realized. He hadn’t thought of that program in years. Once upon a time, he and Mary had been regulars.
Then Rachel interrupted his trip down memory lane with a kick to the ’nads when she pinned him with a narrow-eyed stare and accused, “I know it was you. You hired Lisa to find me.”
Crap. Boone shoved his hands into his pockets. “Lisa Jackson is an excellent private detective. However, I thought she was more discreet.”
“She’s never said a word, but I knew it was you. Now you’ve just confirmed it.”
Boone’s lips lifted in a reluctant grin. “Bright girl.”
“Not a girl, Boone McBride. I’m a woman. Most definitely a woman.”
Chastised, he nodded. “You’re right. My apologies.” Then, because he thought it was important that she knew, he said, “I kept my word to you, Rachel. As much as it went against my grain, as much as it killed me to do it, I didn’t check up on you. I haven’t been funneling money to you. What I did do was hire Lisa to find you and put someone she trusted in touch to get services you needed. Lisa sent word that she had found you and that you were safe, but that’s the last I heard until Sarah Winston contacted me about the baby and your note.”
“That’s kind of what I figured,” Rachel said. “So you don’t know where I’ve been living? Or with who?”
“I don’t.”
“I’ve been with Lisa. She took me in, and I’ve lived with her ever since.”
Boone stopped in his tracks. “Seriously?”
“She’s cool. Like my big sister.”
“So you’ve been living in Fort Worth? Going to school?”
“Yep. I even made it to graduation. Waddled my way across the stage when I was nine months’ pregnant.”
There. The proverbial elephant in the park. Boone both wanted to ask and dreaded the answer. “Are you going to tell me about the baby’s father?”
Rachel didn’t respond right away but veered her path toward the sidewalk that ran alongside the riverbank. Boone caught Hannah’s gaze and, because he could use her support, held out his hand. She took it, and he squeezed a silent thank-you as they followed the teenager.
“We were both in the marching band,” Rachel eventually continued. “He played trumpet. I played the flute. He graduated last year and decided to get his basics out of the way at TCC.”
“The local junior college,” Boone explained to Hannah.
“He wanted to go to Texas Tech. His parents were alumni. We’d been dating almost a year when I found out I was pregnant. He was killed in a car wreck the same day. I never got the chance to tell him about the baby.”
“Ah, honey.” It was a stab to Boone’s heart. What horrific luck. So not fair. And while life wasn’t fair at all, this young woman had certainly been dealt a raw deal.
Rachel’s lips twisted with a sad smile. “He was a good guy. Kind and sweet. My first. My real first. I think he would have wanted to get married, but it wasn’t meant to be.”
She fell silent, and after a moment, Hannah gently asked, “What was his name?”
“Ryan. Ryan Walton. I didn’t tell his parents. They were so devastated, and it wasn’t the right time. Ryan was their only child. They were older when he was born, and they thought he hung the moon—and so did I. He was a good guy. Knew everything about me. Ralph, all of it. His parents were good people too. They were kind to me, but when his mother saw me, she’d cry, so we didn’t stay in touch after the funeral. It took me a little while to decide what I wanted to do about the baby. Once I made up my mind about adoption, I thought it was cleaner this way. Lisa said I’m not legally obligated to tell them. That’s right?”
“Yes,” Boone replied. The pain in her big Bambi eyes broke his heart.
Rachel stopped walking, picked up a rock, and threw it into the river. “I spent a lot of time thinking about my options and deciding what would be best. I figured out that I do want to be a mother someday, but it’s better for me and for this baby that I am not her mom. I’m going to go to college. I’m going to study nursing. I’m good at science and math. I got accepted to TCU, and I’m going to use that scholarship you set up for me all those years ago.”
Boone drew a deep breath, then exhaled in a rush. “Rachel. I am so glad to hear that. You will make a great nurse.”
“I think so too. But going to college and being a single mom is just too much to tackle. She deserves better. So I decided on adoption, and once I got that far, well, I wanted to give you first choice.”
“But why?”