Texas Heroes_ Volume 1(142)

Dev clasped her slender shoulders. “Don’t, Mom. It’s over. You’re doing well, and that’s all that matters.” What was done was done…and his own emotions were stretched too thin to have this discussion after last night.

After Lacey.

He wasn’t ready to rehash the past. Not now. Not when he still carried the feel of Lacey’s slim hand in his, when those silvery eyes wouldn’t let him sleep.

“I still don’t understand it. The Patrick I knew was no crook. He was so angry, so hurt, so—” She looked up at her son, blue eyes swimming with pain. “It literally killed him, the disgrace.”

“He had a weak heart, Mom. He was under a lot of stress.” With the Securities and Exchange Commission findings of fraud, his father’s whole career had been on the line. Even if he’d escaped conviction, he’d never have worked in a high-powered accounting firm like DeMille & Marshall again.

She gripped his sleeve. “But do you believe he did it?”

Dev was too tired for this discussion. Too many years had passed, and he’d been so young. All he’d known was that his father was dead, that with shocking suddenness, their expansive lifestyle had crashed around them. No more soccer games. No more vacations. Only the grim struggle to survive.

Only the shame.

But his mother’s gaze still pinned him, waiting for a response.

“I don’t know what to think. All I cared about back then was getting my driver’s license.” He’d forgotten that—how driving had seemed all-important at fifteen.

He patted her hand. “It doesn’t matter, Mom. None of it matters now. We go forward, isn’t that what they tell you in your meetings? You’re doing great. Don’t let the past snare you in its trap.”

Remember that, Dev. The past is the past.

His mother’s eyes swirled with confusion, with old hurts. With the beginnings of the fog that had claimed too many years.

Dev swore silently at the sight. “Come on, Mom. You’ve worked too hard to get here.” He gestured at the boxes. “I’ll get Connor and Dee to help me, and we’ll get rid of this stuff.”

Visibly, she pulled herself back, the new woman she was becoming. Drawing in a deep breath, she shook her head. “No, Devlin. These are my memories. I haven’t been able to look at any of this since he…” Again, she shook her head. “There’s one box of your father’s business papers that I’d like you to take, though. I don’t understand any of that stuff, but I thought you might like to have them.”

The last thing he wanted was to dig into their past. His own past with Lacey was plenty to handle right now. But he nodded. “I’ll stick it in my car when I leave. I’m pretty busy on a case right now, but I’ll get to it one of these days. Or maybe I’ll take it to Connor. Let him put that MBA to use for something besides impressing women.”

Monique smiled faintly at the thought of Dev’s much-younger brother. “You’re a good son, Devlin. A good man. I’ve let you down, but I won’t do that anymore.” She lifted her shoulders, straightening her whole delicate frame. “Once I move, I’m going to look for a job. You’ve supported me long enough. Too long.”

“You have an important job, Mom. Grandmother. Little Katie is going to keep you plenty busy.” Seeing her protest, he shook his head. “Don’t worry about it right now, okay? I’m doing fine.” Then, unable to stand any more assaults from the past, he took the tie from her hand and laid it on the sofa, then steered her toward the kitchen. “But if you wanted to fix me breakfast while I drink about a gallon of coffee, I sure wouldn’t complain.”

“I’d be happy to do that.”

“Good. And while you’re at it, you can tell me what the world’s smartest baby has been up to this week.”

At the mention of Deirdre’s Katie, his mother’s eyes lit. “Oh, that sweet child. You won’t believe what she did just yesterday…”

He could tell this would take a while, but that was fine. Dev would forgive Deirdre all the attempts at matchmaking that drove him nuts. She’d produced the miracle that had given his mother a reason to live.

And listening to stories of sweet Katie was far better than thinking about whether or not Lacey would cancel their picnic.

And whether or not he hoped she would.



Lacey held Christina’s hand as they entered the plastic surgeon’s office, an associate of Philip’s who’d agreed to give an assessment on reconstructing the child’s face.

Christina clasped her hand tightly, her head downcast. The child had learned too much about the world’s cruelty. The stares bothered her, whether from pity or disgust. The pretty pink dress Lacey had bought her to wear today, knowing how much Christina minded being seen in public, wasn’t helping, no matter Christina’s delight when she’d donned it.