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.”
He gazed up at her with soulful eyes. Laurel was becoming more and more convinced Hugo was a born therapy dog. He’d certainly been a comfort to her, and now he was trying to take care of Lolly too.
Lolly ran her hand through his thick fur and began talking. “It was so b-bad when I’d thought it would be so great, that maybe she and Dad had been in love and maybe her parents…you know, like I thought for you…but she was old—way older than Dad—and ugly and nasty, and sex was all she could talk about. Her name is Marguerite, and she said she’d been Dad’s teacher at Bosque Bend High School…and she talked about him like he was an—an animal.”
The tears gushed again. Hugo moved his head in Lolly’s lap, reminding her of his presence while Laurel patted her shoulder. How could anyone be this cruel—and to her own child?
“She sort of cackled and said she didn’t know that I would look exactly like her. Then she started talking about how she’d always been popular with the boys, especially when she started teaching, because she was so sexy. Her husband tried to change the subject, but she couldn’t stop talking about sex…and Dad.” Lolly looked down at herself and her face crinkled. “She was so…awful…and here I spent a whole day shopping for this outfit just to look nice for her.”
Laurel nodded. That explained the pearl-luster one-inch heels and the fitted pink sundress with the stylish shortie jacket. Lolly had accessorized conservatively, with a simple pearl necklace and matching pearl studs, and her Shirley Temple curls were contained behind an Alice band. It was the perfect look when meeting a long-lost mother, if that mother had any decency in her.