SHAFTS OF LIGHT pierced the darkness, illuminating a
stretch of foggy grayness. Callie Lambert drove on and on,
putting miles behind her. Up ahead loomed the unknown, the
unfamiliar. Her hands clasped the steering wheel with a
death-like grip and her stomach roiled with the enormity
of her actions. She was on the run. A fugitive. She'd
kidnapped her brother and sisters and could be arrested at
any minute.
Those facts kept her focused, cautious and half-crazed
with fear. What if she was caught? The kids would be
returned to their abusive stepfather. And Callie would go
to jail.
She wasn't worried about herself. It was the kids. She was
their big sister and she'd do anything, go through
anything, to protect them. But tangible fear throbbed at
the back of her mind like a persistent toothache as she
waited for the wail of a siren.
Raindrops splattered the windshield and she turned on the
wipers. Their hypnotic action calmed her nerves and
steadied her resolve. She thought of her mother and anger
stirred in her breast. How could Glynis do this to them?
The past swept through her mind with each swish of the
wipers. Glynis had left Callie's father when Callie was
barely five and had become a waitress in a hotel
restaurant in Houston. She'd struggled to make ends meet.
Then Glynis met John Lambert, a wealthy stockbroker, and
their lives changed for the better. John was twenty years
older than Glynis, but Callie liked him. When Callie was
twelve, Glynis married John and they moved from Houston to
New York City. John adopted Callie and life was better
than she'd ever known.
She was always his oldest child. John never made a
distinction between Callie and his own children and she
loved him all the more for that. A year ago, he was
diagnosed with colon cancer and it was a sad time for all
of them. During the last month of his life, he had nurses
around the clock, but Glynis only left his bedside to
sleep.
After his death, Glynis decided to take a cruise for a
much-needed rest and Callie gladly offered to care for her
young siblings. It was a shock when Glynis returned home
with a brand-new husband, Nigel Tremont, who was twelve
years her junior. And it was an even greater shock when
Glynis was killed in an auto accident three months later,
leaving Nigel as sole guardian of the children and
executor of her estate.
Despite the enveloping fog of grief and loss, Callie knew
one thing for certain — Nigel was after her mother's
money. He'd somehow convinced Glynis to change her will —
whoever had custody of the children had control of the
money. But how could she prove it?
Two months ago, Callie received a frantic call from her
eleven-year-old half brother, Adam. He, nine-year-old
Brittany and six-year-old Mary Beth were scared to death.
Mary Beth had wet the bed and woken up crying, wanting
Callie. Nigel had hit her with a belt and made her sleep
in the soiled bed. When Nigel went to his room, Adam
sneaked Mary Beth into his, then he called Callie from the
den so Nigel wouldn't hear. She told him to lock Brit,
Mary Beth and himself in the bathroom until she got there.
She met the police at her mother's home and to her horror,
found they could do nothing. They said there was no
evidence Nigel was abusing the kids and it was clear that
the children needed time to adjust to their mother's
death. The kids were so frightened they wouldn't say a
word.
The police warned Nigel about hitting the children and
said a complaint would be filed with Child Protective
Services. This was standard procedure. Callie was asked to
leave the house. She refused and was forcibly removed,
even though Mary Beth was clinging to her. At that moment,
she knew she'd have to fight to get them out of Nigel's
clutches.
She'd immediately contacted an attorney and contested
Glynis's will and guardianship of the children. The lawyer
had said the procedure could take months, but Callie
didn't have that much time. Each night, she got another
desperate call. Nigel had slapped Adam. Brit was crying
because Nigel had locked her in the closet for talking
back. Mary Beth was wetting the bed and sleeping in it,
afraid to say anything. Callie feared for their safety,
for their peace of mind.
She had a friend from college, Miranda Wright, who was now
mayor of Homestead, Texas, a dying small town in the Texas
Hill Country. Miranda had told her that the city council
had foreclosed on a large ranch and several old homes for
unpaid back taxes. The land and homes were now being given
away if applicants were approved by the Home Free
Committee. The applicant had to live on the property for a
year and make the necessary improvements and renovations,
then it would be theirs. Families and children were
encouraged to come to build the tax base — to save the
schools and the town.
The plan intrigued Callie because she'd been born in
Homestead, as had Glynis and Callie's father, Dale
Collins. After her parent's divorce, Callie had never seen
her father again. When she was older, she'd asked Glynis
about him, and her mother had said that he'd probably died
long ago since he was an alcoholic. Callie still wondered
though. Maybe now she'd find out the truth about her
father.
The town of Homestead had always held a mystique for her.
She guessed it represented her childhood or safety, or
life before things got complicated. She'd always wanted to
go back. And now here she was at two in the morning headed
toward Texas and hoping against everything that she
wouldn't be caught.
She glanced back and saw Brit was asleep, her head
sideways on a pillow — a purple pillow. Everything in
Brit's life these days had to be purple. One hand clutched
a cowboy hat. She was going to Texas to ride a horse and
become a cow-girl. Callie was glad Brit saw this as an
adventure.
Mary Beth was also asleep, leaning toward the window, her
head on a Barbie pillow, her doll, Winifred, better known
as Miss Winnie, held tight against her. This was hardest
on Mary Beth. She wanted her mother and Callie's anger
mounted at Glynis's insensitivity. How could she leave her
precious children in the hands of a man like Nigel Tremont?
It was now her responsibility to do what was best for her
brother and sisters. Callie could only pray and hope
they'd find some peace while she waited for her case to be
heard.
Callie had invented a new identity and had applied for one
of the free homes in Homestead. When she'd been approved,
she'd taken money out of her savings, money that John had
left her in trust until her twenty-fifth birthday, and
opened a new account in Philadelphia. There was no way
Nigel could find out about the account, and she could wire
for the money once she reached Texas.
She was staggered by how easy it was to change your
identity. Someone in the restaurant where she worked knew
a guy, who knew a guy and with the right amount of money
she could be anybody she wanted. So they were the Austins
and Callie was the young mother of three. At twenty-eight,
she was hoping she could pull that off. She was sure she'd
aged ten years in the past month and for once in her life
she was hoping it showed.
She'd given up her job as executive chef in a New York
restaurant, her dream ever since she could remember, and
they were headed for a new life, a new beginning far away
from New York City — in Homestead, Texas.
Adam stirred in the passenger seat. He'd been dozing for a
while but Callie knew he slept lightly, so afraid that
they were going to be taken back to Nigel.
"You okay?" she asked, turning off the wipers. The light
shower had stopped, leaving a stretch of wet highway.
He rubbed his eyes, gazing into the watery beam of the
headlights. "Yes. Where are we?"
"Somewhere in Pennsylvania."
He jerked up straight. "You do have a map and a route
planned, don't you?"
"Not exactly." She'd been in too big of a hurry to leave
New York. She planned to buy a map once they were on the
way.
Nigel had gone out for the evening, like he usually did,
leaving the kids by themselves. The children used to have
a nanny, but Nigel had fired her, saying the kids were too
old for one. Once Nigel had left, Adam had called Callie
and turned off the security system. He'd done this several
times before so Callie could get into the house and see
the kids. Nigel had denied her any visitation and he'd
warned Adam about calling her. Adam was told he'd be
severely punished if he even thought of contacting his
sister. The phone was only to be used for emergencies.
Minutes after she'd arrived at her mother's home, they'd
been on the road. Nigel wouldn't check in on the children.
Adam said he never did. It wasn't in his nature to be
paternal, especially after a night of drinking and
partying. Once he'd sent them to bed, he expected his
orders to be obeyed.
Callie was hoping tonight would be no different, so they'd
have a head start of several hours.
"Callie..."
She patted his shoulder. "Don't worry, little brother. All
roads lead to Texas."
"They do not."
To her, they did. "Trust me on this one. I'll get us
there."
"Just drive carefully so a cop won't stop us."
Poor Adam. He'd taken on the role of older brother and
protector at too early of an age. "I always drive
carefully."
"You do not. I was with you twice when you got tickets."
"But that was Callie Lambert. Callie Austin is a diligent,
cautious driver."
He was silent for a moment then said, "Sorry about Fred,
but Mary Beth wouldn't leave without him."
Fred was Mary Beth's goldfish, a must-have after watching
the movie Finding Nemo. Callie looked down at the goldfish
bowl she'd managed to wedge into the console. Fred was the
last thing she'd planned to pack, but she didn't have the
heart to tell Mary Beth. She'd lost two parents in six
months and Callie couldn't take anything else away from
her.
"It's okay. I guess Fred wanted to go to Texas, too."
THE DAYS THAT FOLLOWED were very stressful. The constant
vigilance was getting to Callie. She kept waiting for the
sound of a siren and when she heard one in Virginia, she
almost lost the Big Mac she'd just eaten. But the trooper
sailed right by her, stopping the car ahead of them. It
took an hour for her nerves to settle down.
The kids were also nervous. As they passed the stopped
car, Mary Beth asked, "Are those people running away, too?"
Adam quickly turned in his seat to look at Mary Beth. "You
can't say things like that, especially in front of other
people. They'll take us back to Nigel and —"
Callie touched his arm, stopping him. "Adam is trying to
say we need to be careful what we say."
"I will. I sorry. I don't want to go back."
"It's okay, sweetie," Callie tried to reassure her.
"I want to sit in the front with you, Callie."
"At the next stop you can change seats with Adam."
"Kay."
Callie's heart broke at what this was doing to them. Mary
Beth was scared all the time. Hyperactive Brit couldn't
sit still and chatted nonstop. Adam, quiet and pale, just
stared straight ahead at the road in front of them. And
they were only halfway to Texas.
Then Callie had another problem — she noticed Fred
floating face-up. Poking him with her finger, she found he
was dead. She made a mad dash into a Wal-Mart with the
bowl in her arms, leaving Adam in charge and telling Mary
Beth that Fred needed fresh water. It took several
minutes, but she bought a new Fred and they continued on
their journey.
In Arkansas, Fred died again and Callie realized that
goldfish did not travel well. Another Wal-Mart. Another
fish. Callie prayed she could get this one to Homestead.
She was tempted to tell Mary Beth that Fred had gone to
heaven, but they'd had too many of those discussions
lately. Callie wasn't ready for another one.