Run To You

hell someplace. He’s been staying at my apartment, and I’m afraid to go over there.”
    The two men exchanged looks filled with hidden meaning and Sadie motioned for Stella to follow her. “Let’s go inside while these two catch up and talk about the good old days when they slept in swamps and ate bugs.”
    Stella glanced back at Beau. “You ate bugs?”
    He grinned. “One or two.”
    She followed Sadie, and her gaze lowered to her sister’s khaki skirt, long legs, and cowboy boots. They moved through the big double doors and into her father’s house. A chandelier made out of antlers hung in the entry, and worn Navaho rugs covered the wood floors. She looked back, through the door and across the yard. Beau laughed at something Vince said, but his gaze was on her. Touching her across the distance and reminding her of the other places he’d touched her last night. Teaching her things she didn’t know about. Things that stopped just short of penetration and made her lose control. Something she noticed that never happened to him. Not like it happened to her.
    “I could use some wine,” Sadie said, and shut the door behind them. “How about you?”
    Stella clenched her hands, then relaxed them to let some of the tension out. “That sounds great. Thank you.”
    “We’ll sit in the parlor. Don’t let the couch scare you.” Sadie pointed to a room across the entry. “I’ll be right back.”
    Stella’s jeweled flip-flops slapped her heels as she walked into the parlor. Another big chandelier of antlers lit the room dominated by cowhide furniture and an enormous rock fireplace. A portrait of a horse hung above the mantel and family pictures sat around the room in heavy frames. The room smelled of lemon oil and leather, and Stella reached for the picture on an end table.
    Clive Hollowell with a young Sadie on his shoulders. He looked like Stella remembered. Hard and lean and intimidating as heck. A big smile lit Sadie’s young eyes while Clive looked stone-faced.
    “That’s my favorite photo,” Sadie said as she walked into the room. “Daddy is almost smiling.”
    Stella set the photo back down and turned. “Thank you,” she said, and took a glass of white wine from her sister.
    “I have a million things to ask you. A million things to say.” Sadie’s gaze moved across Stella’s face as if trying to take in everything at once. “But I can’t think of one right now.”
    Stella felt the same and sat next to Sadie on the couch. “I never thought I’d be here. Just never thought . . .” She lifted her free hand and let it fall to her lap. “That I’d meet you.”
    “Have you always known of me?” Sadie took a sip, her attention locked on Stella as if she couldn’t look away.
    Stella nodded. She couldn’t look away, either. From the sister she’d seen only in old news clippings. “My mother told me about you. She was your nanny.”
    “I remember Marisol. My mama had just died and Daddy couldn’t abide my crying.” Finally Sadie looked down at the hem of her skirt and smoothed it with her fingers. “So he hired your mama to look after me. I was only five, but I remember she was nice to me and brushed my hair every day. After she left, my hair was usually a mess unless Clara Anne, our housekeeper, fixed if for me.”
    That was one thing she could say about her mother. Stella might not have had the most expensive or designer labels, but she’d always been clean and polished. “My mother braided my hair every morning until I was about seven. I hated it.”
    “I think I would have liked that.” Sadie looked up. “But isn’t it the way of things. We think we want what we never had.”
    What did she mean? Was it a warning not to want too much? “I don’t want anything from you.”
    “Lord, I never thought you did. If you’d wanted anything from me, I wouldn’t have had to find a big Marine to track you down.” Sadie took a drink and set her glass on the table. “Knowing Blake as I do, I was afraid his brother might scare you off.”
    Stella smiled and took a sip of wine. It wet her dry throat and she said, “He looks kind of scary, but I wasn’t afraid of him.” Oddly.
    “Vince told me there was a problem at the bar where you work.”
    “Worked.” Her gaze slid away to an antler lamp. “I kind of quit, but I’ll get a new job. Good bartenders can always find work and I make good tips.” She didn’t want to sound like too big a loser so she added, “I’ll probably