Garrett came back into the living area and sat a laptop on the table. “He’s five and she’s ten months old. What am I gonna need? Maybe I should make the smaller room my bedroom and put them in the bigger room.” He looked up at her. “Or does a ten-month-old need to be in a room with an adult...a parent? I work nights sometimes and if there’s an emergency...”

The color left his face.

“Garrett, you’ll need someone to watch them when you’re at work.”

“I’m going to call my mother. If she could move here, that could work. I can sleep on the sofa. I’ve had worse.”

She had a bad feeling he was going to be stubborn about taking help. “I have some baby stuff. It’s all unused. I have a crib, high chair, changing table, rocker and the smaller stuff like blankets.”

He rubbed his eyes and stared at the screen.

“You need some sleep.”

He checked his watch. “I’m fine.”

She reached over and pushed the top down on his computer. “Get some sleep. I’ll have the things they need by the time you wake up.”

She took a deep breath and smiled. Could she do it? Could she hand over all of Esperanza’s furniture? She closed her eyes and felt the peace wash over her. Garrett’s baby girl needed a room full of love, and Esperanza didn’t.

It was time. She opened her eyes and smiled at Garrett. “God provides.”

He sighed. “Not sure about God, but I’m not your problem to fix. I do need some sleep, but I don’t have a lot of time to waste to get everything ready for...”

“You have enough time to sleep. I’m telling you, almost everything you need is close. Okay? When you wake up, come over to the house.”

Yes, it felt right. Maybe this was why she hadn’t cleaned out her baby girl’s room yet. God knew Garrett would need it.

Chapter Two

An explosion rattled the walls. Garrett jerked straight up from sleep. No, not an explosion, just another nightmare. He threw back the heavy blanket and sat on the edge of the bed. Avoiding the frayed braided rug, he made sure to plant his bare feet on the cold tile floor. Taking several deep breaths, he anchored himself in Clear Water, Texas. In the present. Sand blew against the roof. Grinding his back molars, he buried his fingers in his hair. Not sand. Afghanistan belonged in his past. The thin glass in his window shuddered under the force of the violent wind outside.

The sound that had woken him penetrated the room again. Not in his head, but outside. A hefty storm was making a fuss and building power. Barefoot, he left the bedroom and walked across the apartment. The security light keeping it from being too dark to see. Opening the French doors, he stood at the threshold of the small balcony. Tiny bits of hail had collected on the deck. A few minuscule chunks pelted him. His thin T-shirt offered little protection from their sting.

He blinked, confused by a cloth flapping in the desert wind, twisting around a group of kids playing soccer. His fingers closed around the iron railing. It was cold, hard...real. He inhaled, pushing his lungs to their limit. With eyes shut, Garrett fought to get his mind back to the here and now. I am standing on my balcony in Clear Water, Texas.

It had been a while since he’d had this type of episode. Maybe the news he’d gotten today was part of this mixed-up nightmare. He was taking full responsibility of two kids. He knew firsthand no matter what you did, bad things still happened. Another boy’s smiling face and bright dark eyes came to mind. Counting breaths, he shook his head.

His mind latched on to the present, and he opened his eyes again. This time, he made sure he saw Anjelica’s backyard. Even in the dark he could still make out the miniature farm surrounded by ranches that gave the illusion of endless hills and trees. A cry came from the area of her large garden.

A bedsheet? Okay, that was real. Why was that crazy woman chasing a bedsheet across her yard in the middle of a storm? He didn’t even have a sense of time. He glanced inside and saw the clock, which read 10:33 p.m. He had slept longer than he’d planned.

Shaking his head, he grabbed his trench coat and slipped on his boots. With his hat firmly planted on his head, he made his way down the stairs of the garage apartment. He knew she was a bit on the fanciful side, but this was strange behavior even for her. She had no business being outside with hail and lightning. Did she have a death wish?

By the time he walked through the gate, she was balanced halfway up the deer-proof fence, attempting to untangle the sheet from the eight-foot corner post. Her bare feet were precariously poised on the tie bar between the huge cedar post and the stay. Her new fluffball pet leaped about and barked.

“Bumper! Stop it!” She tugged at the sheet. Anjelica’s long dark hair was plastered to her like a second skin, making her look more like an elf. Even standing on the tie bar, she couldn’t reach the top of the corner post. Did she notice the hail? Cutoff sweatpants exposed her golden-brown skin to the elements. He shook his head as he cut across the tilled garden.

The dog finally caught the edge of the white sheet between its teeth. “Bumper! No! Bad girl! Let go!” As she tried to pull the sheet away from the Yorkie, Little Miss Sunshine lost her balance.

Garrett rushed to catch her. She landed in his arms with an “Oomph.” Lightning streaked across the sky as he ran for her covered back porch. He counted the seconds between seeing the flash and hearing the thunder. Five seconds. Too close for comfort. His arms tightened their hold when she started wiggling. “Hold still or I’ll drop you.” She might be small, but she struggled against him with toned muscles.

He leaped up the three steps and under the eclectic collection of ceramic wind chimes that lined her porch. Their musical notes sounded angry tonight.

“No! No, I have to cover the bush! The hail’s gonna destroy it.”

“You don’t have any shoes on, and even small hail can be dangerous.” Once he had her bare feet on the boards, he looked into her large eyes to check their dilation for signs of a concussion. Her irises were so dark he couldn’t see her pupils in the dim light.

Maybe she already had brain damage. Another bright light flashed, and for a split second he could see everything as if it was high noon. He saw a thick heavy scar that ran across the base of her neck. The soft edge disappeared into her hairline by her cheek. Then he was blinded again just as quickly. Was that why she always wore a scarf?

She tried to push past him. “I’ve got to cover my plant before it’s destroyed.”

The ceramic chimes thrashed in a sudden gust of wind, and it was hard to hear over all the noise. “No, stay here.” He made a gesture to her head and feet, hoping she understood. “I’ll cover the plant.”

Pulling his hat low, he ran back into the storm and crossed the yard to retrieve the sheet. The dog followed, leaping and barking like they were playing a game.

“Bumper, get back here,” Anjelica yelled from the top step. The undisciplined dog ignored her.

With one hard yank, he had the sheet down. The two-foot bush had already lost some of its early growth. Small leaves dotted the ground. Using the wind to help, he threw the sheet over the top of the plant. Then Garrett looked around for something to anchor it.

“Here, use these.” Anjelica ran past him to pick up some red bricks lining the bottom of the fence. At least she had mud boots and a hat on this time, along with a bright orange scarf wrapped around her neck.

The pelts of hail grew harder. He tucked his head and drew his shoulders higher. He was apparently as crazy as his landlady.

The dog pulled on the sheet, tossing her head back and forth with a growl. The furball could fit in his pocket but fought with the fierceness of a lion. The pink bow did nothing to soften her attitude.