West Texas Nights - Sherryl Woods Page 0,65

up one board in this place?”

Justin shifted his Stetson back on his head and stared up through reflective sunglasses. “No need. You’re doing just fine.”

“What brings you by, since it’s obviously not to help out?”

“I found Buzz Jensen.”

Harlan Patrick felt his heart begin to thud. “Alive?”

“Oh, yeah.”

He didn’t like the sound of that.

“I’ll be right down.”

He climbed down the ladder braced against what would eventually be the kitchen wall and headed for a cooler he’d filled with ice and soft drinks. Regretting that it wasn’t a beer, he popped the top on one can, took a long swallow, then met his cousin’s gaze.

“Okay, give it to me. Is he in jail or something?”

“No, but he is married again.”

Harlan Patrick took that news in stride. “I suppose that’s to be expected. He left Laurie’s mom a long time ago.”

Justin stirred uncomfortably. “But the way I understand it, he never divorced her because she didn’t believe in divorce.”

“You’re kidding me, right?”

“No. I checked it out myself. Mary Jensen told me she’d refused to give him a divorce.”

“That means the man’s a bigamist,” Harlan Patrick said.

“With a happy new family in California, none of whom apparently have a clue about his past in Texas,” Justin confirmed. “Unless he found some way around the legal system that I can’t figure out.”

“Well, hell,” Harlan Patrick muttered. “This is a wrinkle I hadn’t counted on. What am I supposed to do now?”

“I don’t see that you have any choice. You promised Laurie you’d find her father for her. You’ve done that and you’re going to have to tell her.”

“How’s she going to take it when she finds out he’s got this whole new family? Hell’s bells, how are they going to take it when they discover that he’s been living a lie? What kind of can of worms are we opening here?”

“That’s the trouble with searching for the truth,” Justin noted. “Sometimes you find out a whole lot more than you ever wanted to know.”

“Maybe you’re wrong,” Harlan Patrick said. “Maybe Buzz Jensen did get a divorce.”

“Without Mary knowing about it?”

“It’s possible,” Harlan Patrick persisted.

“Doubtful,” his cousin countered. He removed his sunglasses and met Harlan Patrick’s gaze. “What are you going to do?”

“What do you think? I’m going to California.”

“With Laurie?”

“Not on your life. I’m going on my own to check things out first. I’m not taking her there until we know the whole story.”

“And then?”

He raked a hand through his hair. “I wish to hell I knew.”

Five hours later, just past dinnertime, he was driving up to a small ranch-style house on a hillside just north of Los Angeles. The lawn was well tended, window boxes were filled with brightly colored flowers and toys and bicycles were scattered across the yard. A sedan that needed a paint job and a newer pickup sat in the driveway. Evidence of normal, everyday people just trying to get by, he concluded.

With a sigh of regret, Harlan Patrick climbed out of his car and walked toward the house. If this hadn’t been the only way to get the answers Laurie needed, he wasn’t sure he could have brought himself into these people’s lives to tear apart their tidy little world.

When he rang the bell, the door was answered by a teenage girl who bore such a striking resemblance to Laurie that it almost took his breath away. He’d always assumed Laurie had inherited her looks from her mother, but it was clear now that she had a good bit of her father in her, too.

“Hi,” she said with the same flirtatious, infectious grin that Laurie had used to captivate him years earlier. “Who’re you?”

“Harlan Patrick Adams.”

“Well, hey, Harlan Patrick. I’m Tess. What can I do for you?”

He had to hide a grin at the blatant suggestiveness she managed to put into those few little words. “I’d like to see your father if he’s at home.”

“Sure,” she said at once. “Would you like to come in?”

Her open, trusting nature made him feel like a heel. This was going to be tough enough without going inside. “No, thanks,” he said with a smile. “I’ll wait right here.”

“Hey, Dad,” she bellowed. “Somebody here to see you.” She regarded Harlan Patrick with interest as they waited. “I could get you something to drink if you like. Maybe a soda?”

“Nothing, thanks.”

A middle-aged man came from the back of the house. He gave the girl a stern look. “How many times have I asked you not to shout all the way through the house? You

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