Run To You

told her he might think he had to kill her. She tried and failed to control her laughter. God, she was funny sometimes. Maybe she should try stand-up comedy as her next career. She’d tried just about everything else. “Yep.”
    “Your sister, Sadie Hollowell, is looking for you.”
    Her laughter died and everything within her stilled. Shut down and off. Her heart. Her breath. The blood in her veins. Her hands fell to the table and she unlocked her fingers. “Sadie?” The name sounded odd coming from her mouth. She never talked about Sadie out loud anymore. Tried not to think about her and was for the most part successful. She pressed her palms and fingertips into the hard tabletop as if she could hang on to the smooth surface as her world tilted. “You know her?”
    He shook his head and said between bites, “Never met her. I know her fiancé, Vince. He contacted me.”
    “Why . . .” Her voice cracked and she cleared her throat. Obviously, Sadie was just like her father. Hiring someone else to deal with a problem. “Why didn’t she contact you?”
    “Don’t know. I’m sure she has her reason.”
    Her stilled heart gave a painful thump and lifted in her chest. A high-pitched buzzing started in the center of her head and moved to her ears. Stella knew the reason. The Hollowells had always hired someone to take care of their dirty work. Her. “What does she want?”
    He took a drink of his coffee and looked at her over the top of the heavy mug. His gray gaze studied her as he slowly set it on the table. “Are you going to faint?”
    “No.” Maybe. Most definitely have a panic attack if she didn’t remember to breathe, though. She pulled air into her lungs and slowly let it out like she’d been taught. She resisted her body’s natural urge to pull shallow gulping breaths into her lungs as if she was drowning. “What does she want?”
    “To talk to you.”
    “About what?” She probably wanted to make sure Stella stayed away. Away from the ranch and Sadie’s inheritance, but Sadie didn’t need to worry. Stella got the message a long time ago that she was not welcome in the state of Texas. Her anxiety leaked out of her toes and she tapped her feet.
    “I don’t know.”
    “Why? Why after all these years?”
    “Now that is a question that I do know the answer to.” He dug into his flan again. Far more interested in his dessert than in her. “She didn’t know about you until her father died last month.”
    Her feet stopped. “What?” That wasn’t possible. Could that be possible? Stella had always known about the sister she’d never met. The older blond sister who got to live with their father in Texas. The girl who lived on the JH Ranch and raised calves and won 4–H ribbons. The debutante who wore a white gown and long white gloves and got her picture taken for the newspaper. “How could she not know?”
    “That’s what I was told.” He shrugged and raised the fork. “She didn’t know about you until after your father died.”
    Clive Hollowell had never been her father. She remembered seeing him only five times in her life. He’d just been the man who’d accidentally knocked up her mother and set up a trust fund to take care of his mistake. Carlos had never been a father, either. He’d just been the man who’d moved in and lived off the Hollowell money like some people in her family.
    She pulled her hands into her lap and stared at her blunt nails painted black. What did Sadie want to talk to her about? What could they possibly have to say to each other? Their father had loved Sadie. Sadie was the golden-haired golden girl. Stella was the dark-haired dirty secret.
    “Sadie would like to know if you are open to speaking with her. She’d like to contact you.”
    “I don’t—” She lifted a hand and dropped it back into her lap. Old feelings of rejection and the ache of wanting tumbled in her stomach and tangled around her heart. Emotions she thought she’d buried long ago. “On the phone?”
    “Yes.”
    Her sister wanted to call her. She didn’t know how she felt about that. Part of her wanted to tell her sister to go to hell and stay out of her life. The other part wanted . . . What? To at long last hear her sister’s voice? “I don’t know.” She forced herself to look up at the man across the table from her. She didn’t know him. Didn’t even know his name, and yet he’d turned her world sideways and she felt like she was sliding off. “Does she want me to