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far as I can recollect from what Ward and Jean told me. Others were just free spirits—artists, street musicians, homeless vagabonds. You know the type. Michelle was probably a little of both. But you know what? During all that time she never gave up her one passion, horses. But even then, her parents could never find her. They heard about the men she’d taken up with and the shows she competed in, but it seemed like they were always one step behind. She probably changed her name many times.”

Carli quietly listened to Buck. The story fit her mother so well based on the one time Carli met her when she was around fifteen. Her adoptive guardians hadn’t objected. Carli remembered her beautiful smile, but definitely her lifestyle had taken its toll. She looked worn and tired, older than her years with dull hair and eyes. Carli never told anyone before, but she followed the horse show circuit results. Sometimes Michelle used her real name, Jameson, and Carli dreamed about finding her. And then one day she was older with a job and didn’t care as much.

“What about you? Where were you all this time?” asked Buck.

Carli shrugged. “I was born in Amarillo and given to the Fitzgeralds, my guardians, as a newborn. They never legally adopted me which is why I still use the name Jameson. All they told me is that they learned about me from some of their cousins. Michelle signed me over and went on her merry way, and the Fitzgeralds took me back to Florida. Then Georgia. End of story.” Just saying it out loud created an ache in her heart. Why couldn’t she have been a part of her grandparents’ life? The stupid decisions Michelle made had cheated them all.

He swung his legs off the ottoman, hunched his shoulders and looked down. “I guess Michelle hit rock bottom in California.”

“Yes, the attorney told me she overdosed just a few months before my grandpa Ward died.”

“I don’t think Jean and Ward were ever the same after Michelle ran away. It seemed as though the joy evaporated from their life. Then they put all their efforts into finding you, but they were too late. Michelle had given you up and they lost track of her too. It pains my heart to think what her life might have been like, surviving from one fix to the next. Such a waste. She was a beautiful girl. And your grandparents came so close to finding you both. Ward was alive one month before you got here.”

Carli struggled to swallow the lump in her throat. Stupid and careless decisions can affect so many lives in ways people have no understanding of the outcomes. Her mother had chosen drugs over her. It didn’t seem fair.

Buck stood and put a hand on her shoulder. “But it’s not the end of your story. You’re home now. And I believe God had something to do with that. It’s an answer to Jean and Ward’s prayers, but not in their timing. We don’t know why. You’re here now and that’s the most important thing.”

“I know,” Carli said. “I’m still upset about my grandfather’s passing. I wish my attorney Del had found me sooner. Then I could’ve met him, talked to him.”

“Out of the blue, Michelle sent Jean and Ward a short letter saying she had put you up for adoption. It was the last they heard from her. So, they had some little clues. A little closure if you can call it that.”

Still so many unanswered questions, but Carli learned more about her mother in this one conversation with Buck than she had during her entire life. Her heart ached at the suffering her grandparents had endured.

“What’s all that?” Buck pointed to a stack of papers on the floor.

“Just some old invoices and bank statements. I’m gradually cleaning out cabinets.” Carli looked at him intently for a few seconds and then asked, “You ever hear of a man named Taylor Miller?”

“Yeah. J.T., we called him. Hired him one summer to build fence. Why?”

Her heart thudded in her chest. She was certain Buck could hear it. Carli cleared her throat and looked into her mug. “No reason. Just noticed his name on some papers, is all. Why J.T.?” Obviously, he didn’t know about her birth certificate since there didn’t seem to be any concern as to why she was asking about the kid named J.T.

Buck chuckled. “His first name was John. He was the star quarterback his junior and senior years for the Dixon Wildcats. Sure did enjoy watching them play. They went to District playoffs and made it to State the next year when J.T. was a senior. J.T. threw the winning pass but the receiver dropped it. They still talk about that game around here.”

“So, what happened to him?” Carli tried to ask as though she didn’t really care if he answered or not, but she felt as though Buck noticed her sudden interest. She didn’t want to point out the connection between J.T. and her mother yet.

“There’s one person who might know J.T.’s whereabouts. And if he’s still alive.”

“Who’s that?” Dread hit Carli the minute the question escaped her lips.

“The man who grew up here and thought he would inherit the Wild Cow Ranch before the attorneys located you. Billy Broderick. He and J.T. were best friends in high school.”

Carli thought Billy Broderick was out of her life since his now ex-wife had set fire to the barn soon after the judge ruled in Carli’s favor to inherit the Wild Cow. She remembered the brash temper-fit Billy had pitched at the hearing when she was declared the rightful heir. If his behavior was considered normal with the kind of men he hung out with, then she definitely did not want anything to do with his best friend—and her birth father—Taylor Miller. Were they alike? Overbearing jerks? Asking anything of Billy Broderick would be an impossibility. The man hated her and would probably go to

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