Texas Redeemed Read Online Free Page A

was a willowy girl dressed in hospital scrubs, boots and a colorful scarf.
    “I—I didn’t see you walk over,” he said. A half-assed
apology but the best he could do at the moment.
    She pointed to the plaque with a browning apple core. “Do
you have a sick kid?” she asked in a butterfly-soft voice.
    “No, I don’t.” He was anxious for answers and wasn’t up
for small talk with a child he doubted should be wearing hospital scrubs.
    Finally Shannon returned, accompanied by a middle-aged
Hispanic man. “Manuel Esteban,” she said, “I’d like you to meet Doctor Peyton
Turner. He’s interested in the background of the foundation. Doctor Turner,
Manuel is a librarian here and can tell you more about this than I can.”
    Manuel had extended his hand to Peyton, but faltered when
the girl gasped. The apple core slipped from her hand and fell to the carpet.
    “Is there something we can do for you?” Shannon asked
her.
    “Uh … uh …” An incoherent response from a girl who’d just a minute ago
seemed perfectly comfortable launching a conversation with a stranger. “No. No, you can’t. ”
    Peyton halted. Blood pumped hard at his temples and the
world around him ceased to exist as he looked into the girl’s face. His sulky
blue-and-pewter eyes saw an almost identical pair glowering back.
    She sprinted out of the library, leaving behind a
discarded apple core and a speculation that was already turning Peyton’s life
inside out.
    He looked toward the library’s vacant entryway. “Who—who
was that kid?” he demanded, his voice jagged.
    Shannon was silent and looked to the librarian for an
explanation.
    “That was Lucy. Her mother’s on the board here at
Memorial. You see, Doctor Turner and Miss Dash, Lucy is Anna Christine Jordan’s
sister.”

    F OLLOWING A DISCUSSION on hospital policy, a review
of financial projections for the upcoming quarter and an update on the
children’s foundation, the board chair announced a recess and summoned to the
boardroom two servers who wheeled in carts loaded with refreshments.
    “Can I get you a bagel or …?” one of the members offered
Valerie, his eyes clearly asking, as well, whether she was all right after the mention
of her deceased daughter.
    She removed her reading glasses and hooked them onto the
V opening of her black silk blouse. “I’m good,” she said, addressing both his
spoken and unspoken questions.
    The irresistible scent of coffee and baked bread beckoned
her and she made her way to the carts. Discussing the foundation, remembering
all it stood for and the person it honored, never got any easier. She missed
Anna every day but was grateful that something positive had come out of her
death.
    Valerie had just taken a sip of her frothy latte when a
figure in blue scrubs barreled into the boardroom and clenched her arm.
    “Lucy!” she shrieked, as a spot of hot liquid splashed
her shirtfront. “You’re not allowed in here!” Valerie grabbed a wad of napkins
and her purse and ushered Lucy into the hallway. “Have you been running? ”
    “Oh, Mom …” Lucy flung herself into Valerie’s arms. The
impact made Valerie hope that her glasses were still intact. The girl fisted
her hands in the back of her mother’s blouse and hid her tear-stained face
against her shoulder.
    A pair of nurses stopped to help, seeing the girl
crumpled against her mother.
    Strands of Lucy’s hair clung to Valerie’s chin and tears
had begun to wet the front of her top, but none of that mattered. “Start
talking, Luce. What happened?” Icy panic coiled around her heart. Lucy didn’t
cry—hadn’t since her sister’s funeral.
    “It’s private.” That was Lucy’s way of dismissing the
other nurses who stifled their curiosity and continued on their way. No
question that the scene would fuel the hospital’s rumor mill by morning. Then
the hall was void of an audience and filled with the faraway noise of sirens
and intercom pages. “Mom, he’s here.
I don’t