Texas Whirlwind

  A summer storm in Galveston mirrors the whirlwind of problems Emma Hayes encounters after she adopts Haitian twin girls and runs into her old high school love-ending in a battle for custody when strangers contest the adoption. Is it true that she bought love with her ready-made family or can she trust the One that the even wind and waves obey?

  TEXAS WHIRLWIND

  a Christian romance novel by

  Bonnie Blythe

  Kindle Edition copyright © 2010

  by Bonnie Blythe

  All rights reserved.

  Scripture taken from the HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan.

  All rights reserved.

  Cover by Magyar Design

  Cover photos by

  © Jill Battaglia

  © Christopher Halloran

  © Alanpoulson

  To Vickie. We'll always have Galveston.

  As you do not know the path of the wind,

  so you cannot understand the work of God, the Maker of all things.

  Ecclesiastes 11:5

  Prologue

  Whirling like a windmill through

  the dirty scud to lee

  -Rudyard Kipling

  Emmaline Hayes gripped the steering wheel as a gust of wind buffeted the little rental car. She felt the tires hydroplane slightly on the dark road before gaining traction on the asphalt once again. Blowing out a shaky breath, she peered through the drenched windshield and frantic wipers at the anvil shaped mass of blue-black clouds in the sky.

  What do they call that here? A blue norther, if she remembered right, caused by cold air over a warm front blowing in from the Gulf.

  Emma reached for the controls to crank up the heat as the interior temperature dropped. In the unfamiliar car, she bumped the dial for the radio, knocking the station from classical to the unmistakable fiddle and twang of country music.

  Well, I might as well get used to it. I’ll be hearing a lot more of it in the near future.

  Emma squared her shoulders and concentrated on keeping the car on Seawall Boulevard. She could easily imagine the smell of oleander blossoms and salty air of the coastline along the Gulf of Mexico. Squinting through the rain, she tried to distinguish the storm tossed surroundings for familiar landmarks. Neon signs and streetlights shone feebly in the absorbing darkness, palm trees shuddered, and the huge raindrops glowed eerily in her headlights on the deserted roadway.

  Maybe too much had changed for her to rely on memory. She still couldn’t get used to the idea that she was back in Texas. A lifetime ago she never wanted to leave. Now she was back because she had nowhere else to go.

  A sheet of rain slammed into her car, nearly forcing her from the road.

  Some welcome.

  After twenty tedious minutes, Emma managed to locate the correct neighborhood and then, the right driveway. She pulled the car under the upper deck of the beach front house and shut off the engine, listening to the rain pummeling the landscape. Behind her, the surf foamed and fomented against the sand with a ferocious roar.

  Closing her eyes, Emma tried to quiet the storm in her mind while outside her car it continued to rage. She thought of the Bible passage where Jesus had calmed the tempest—and wished it might be so in her life. What had that disciple said? "Lord, save us! We're going to drown!"

  Emma opened her eyes and glanced in the rear view mirror at her sleeping passengers.

  I could use a little help, too, God.

  1

  ...heave the windy sigh.

  -Oscar Wilde

  “Rumor has it you’re a hardened bachelor. I personally see that as a challenge.” The diminutive elderly woman gave her snowy white curls a pat and batted her eyes.

  Travis Taylor peered over the top of his chart at Charlotte Evans seated opposite him. The florescent light of the exam room winked off the colorful gems of her costume jewelry, highlighting the web of wrinkles creasing her face.

  Lowering the chart, he raised an eyebrow. “Why, Mrs. Evans, I do believe you’re flirting with me,” he drawled. “And you, a married woman.”

  Charlotte simpered and gave his hand a playful slap. For a moment, Travis saw a shadow of the great beauty Mrs. Evans must’ve been in her youth. Still a handsome woman, her Southern Belle airs had never waned in all the years he’d known her.

  “I didn’t mean me, silly. I was thinking of my granddaughter, Rosemary.”

  Travis struggled to compose his features. He’d once seen this Rosemary. He supposed there was nothing wrong with her appearance, if one considered the white-faced, black-garbed Goth look appealing.

  Stifling a shiver, he smiled. “Well, ma’am, sure as shootin’, a crusty ol’ galoot like me doesn’t deserve someone as sweet your granddaughter.”

  Charlotte gave him a suddenly shrewd look. “I just mentioned my Rosemary in passing since your current lady-friend hasn’t managed to get you to the altar.”

  Travis frowned. Whether in annoyance at Mrs. Evan’s meddling or the thought of his sometime girlfriend, Lucy Street, he didn’t know. He stood and gave a chilly smile. “It looks like the new medication you’re on has leveled your cholesterol. Come back and see me in three months and we’ll make sure it’s still doin’ its job.”

  Charlotte pursed her lips, gripped the handle of her cane, and rose slowly from her chair. Her girlishness vanished, replaced by the mien of a stuffy dowager.

  “Don’t get all worked up on me, young fella. An old woman like me is allowed to match-make from time to time. It’s not my fault you’re thirty-something and still unmarried. Don’t you know that the best way to stop all the interfering hullabaloo is to just get hitched?”

  Travis felt his face grow warm and regretted his churlishness. Offending long-time patients who were also family friends didn’t accomplish any good. He put on a sheepish smile. “My apologies, ma’am. You’re right. I’ll do my best to enter that exalted matrimonial state as soon as someone will have me.”

  “Don’t honey-talk me, boy. I remember when you’re mamma paddled your behind for sassy talk, God rest her soul.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Travis said, feeling like a chastened schoolboy in spite of the fact that he towered over the elderly woman by more than a foot. Once she preceded him through the exam room door, he rolled his gaze to the ceiling. This is what happens when a fellow practices medicine in his hometown.

  As Mrs. Evan made her way down the hall to the checkout desk, he called after her. “Come see me in three months!”

  She waved a gnarled hand in a dismissive gesture without turning around. Travis sighed and pulled a micro-cassette recorder from his white coat pocket. Scanning Mrs. Evan’s chart, he dictated the medical gist of her visit, wishing he could get a fortifying cup of coffee before his next appointment. But first he had another patient who’d been waiting an hour to be seen.

  It seemed liked he’d spent the entire day apologizing to patients for being behind schedule. Taking a deep breath, Travis went on to the final patient before his lunch break—a Well-Child appointment for a four-month old boy. As he went through all the developmental checks of the fuzzy headed baby, he thought about Mrs. Evans’ words.

  Since beginning his practice, he’d been more or less content to live vicariously through the lives of his patients. It was about all he had time for. Being on call after hours and keeping up with continuously updated policies and procedures on top of his day job, he felt he didn’t have much to offer a real family.

  Lately, he’d been plagued by feelings of isolation. Charlotte Evans had only echoed a theme he’d be thinking about for months.

  Travis looked down at the little infant wriggling on the tissue paper-covered exam table. He ma
de a funny face at the baby. The baby grinned and jerked his plump legs, which dislodged the unfastened diaper covering the baby’s groin. Suddenly, an arc of moisture hit the front of his white coat. Travis leaned back in surprise. “Hey, we got a gully-washer here!”

  While the embarrassed mom giggled, Travis refastened the baby’s diaper and handed him back to her with a rueful smile.

  After the appointment was over, he took off the white coat, tossed it in a laundry bag, and headed to the kitchenette. As he poured a cup from the coffeemaker into a mug emblazoned with the name of a pharmaceutical company, his partner, Dr. Gary Roberts, entered the room. Gary was several years older than Travis and had the peppering of gray hair to prove it. Travis counted him as one of his best friends and was thankful he had asked him to join the clinic they now shared.

  Gary motioned toward the coffee. “Fresh, I hope?”

  Travis shrugged. “It’s hot and has caffeine in it.”

  The older doctor ambled over and poured himself a cup while Travis picked up a withered donut from a grease-stained box and stared at it with a scowl. Disgusted, he dropped it back into the box.

  Gary gave him a curious look. “Anything wrong?”

  Travis stretched his arms above his head, willing the tension to ease from his body. “Is it me or is this day dragging out?”

  “It’s you, ‘cause it’s Friday and you have a date with Lucy tonight,” Gary said with a grin. “You must be all hot and bothered.”

  Travis conjured up a picture of Lucy in his mind. Jet black hair smooth as silk and clear green eyes. So why am I not excited?

  He blew out a measured sigh, careful not to further alert Gary to his true state of mind. How did a guy explain a nebulous feeling of nostalgia mixed with longing for who knew what?

  After a quick drink, Gary grimaced. He poured out his coffee into the sink and slapped Travis on the back on his way out of the room. “Let me know how it goes with Lucy.”

  Travis mumbled some reply, thinking about Gary’s wife and four kids. Somehow Gary managed both career and family. He’d need to ask him some time how he did it. Yep, kids would be nice. But he needed a female to beget ‘em. Could Lucy be a part of that equation?

  Well, one thing was for certain, he’d never know unless he put out a little more effort. Lucy had made it obvious she was very interested in him, at least from a social-climbing point of view. Problem was Lucy didn’t believe him when he told her he was the small-town type. She didn’t bother to hide the fact that she chafed at the confines of Galveston, Texas. Houston was more her style, and she often tried to woo him there with the potential of a dazzling medical career in the big city where her family had social connections.

  Beyond that, she was a decent girl. Maybe he hadn’t tried hard enough to discover her qualities. Travis squared his shoulders, determined to consider her as a potential mate rather than a date to fill an occasional Friday night.

  With this difficulty more or less dealt with, he headed toward the front desk to check the afternoon schedule. As he neared, he heard his efficient secretary speaking in her firm, business-like tone to a client.

  “If you don’t have insurance, ma’am, then you’ll have to make financial arrangements with the bookkeeper.”

  Travis frowned and pulled a pen from his pocket, putting the end of it in his mouth. He hated that aspect of his profession. A part of him wished for the days when payments for medical services could be rendered with chickens and strawberry-rhubarb pies. The thought of pie made him chew down on the end of the pen. He wondered if Lucy could bake.

  “But I have insurance,” a soft voice replied. “It’s just that my daughters aren’t on the paperwork yet. My life’s been a little crazy lately.”

  Travis came to a stop, sucked backwards in a vortex of time. He remembered a girl with a voice like that.

  Emmaline Hayes.

  He’d fallen for her like a chain-sawed tree back in his high-school days. They’d spoken of marriage before her high-brow parents whisked her away to another country. He’d never seen her since. As far as he knew, she was still globe-trotting the planet, taking his heart along for the ride.

  Naw. That was a long time ago. Just a teenage romance. I must be getting dotty in my old age. As well as hearing things that aren’t there.

  Panged by the bittersweet memories, he smiled ruefully as he rounded the corner. The smile evaporated from his face when he caught a glimpse of the woman at the front desk. The pen in his mouth shot out in a whoosh of air, landing like a dagger in the low pile carpeting near the tips of his black Lucchese boots.

  Emma Hayes? Here?

  Pressing his back against the wall, he peered around the corner to make sure it really was her.

  That look confirmed it. No one else in the whole state of Texas had that wispy, pale blonde hair that floated around her head like golden cloud. And those blue, blue eyes that made a man feel he was drowning in a warm tropical sea. She still had that vague, dreamy look he remembered so well.

  What has it been? Fourteen years?

  Travis raised a brow. He also noticed some differences. Two to be precise—one on each hip. Little girls with black, curly hair, and rich, brown skin. So Emma was married with kids. Why should that surprise him? He’d wanted her for himself, after all.

  He pressed a fist to his chest at the sudden spasm of pain there. Must be a touch of indigestion from the bad coffee and donuts he’d eaten for breakfast. Still hugging the wall, he peeked around for one more look.

  “Watcha doin’? Are ya hidin’? Sometimes I hide like that when my momma’s looking’ to give me a wallop. Like one time when I—”

  “Hush, Henry!”

  Travis snapped his head around and met the interested gaze of a young boy. One of the boy’s cheeks bulged from a sucker. His red-faced mother tugged on his hand, urging him past. Travis offered a weak smile in response, feeling a little red-faced himself.

  He walked backwards down the hall before spinning on the heel of his boot and stomping into his office. He had a minute or two before his next appointment. Would it be with Emma? What would he say to her? What had brought her back to Galveston? Fourteen years was a long, long time.

  Maybe she won’t even remember me.

  Travis smiled at the thought. He’d never forget her. They’d been inseparable for that year in high school until her parents had caught wind of the relationship. Although Mr. and Mrs. Hayes loved to spout about open-mindedness, it apparently didn’t extend to small town boys who worked at a horse stable for tourists cleaning out stalls after school.

  Emma never seemed to mind about his job. Her gentle, sweet manner made him easy pickins’ where his heart was concerned. He could still remember the sweetness of her kiss. The memory of her lips suddenly seemed a lot more desirable than strawberry-rhubarb pie.

  Maybe in lieu of payment arrangements, I’ll tell her one little kiss and consider payment made in full.

  Travis shook his head. He couldn’t think about her that way now that she belonged to someone else. He glanced at the clock. His break was over and it was time to see patients.

  Even if one of them was his old high school sweetheart.

  ****

  Emmaline Hayes looked around the small exam room at the colorful Noah’s Ark motif wallpaper and pile of children’s books in a basket. Her gaze continued along the jars of tongue depressors, bandages, and cotton swabs lining the counter before returning to her wristwatch.

  Her scheduled appointment time had passed some twenty minutes ago and the children were becoming more restless by the minute. Kendra, age two and a half, hugged Emma’s knees, and her twin, Katrina, clung to Emma’s side like human Crazy Glue. Both girls whimpered tiredly, which made Emma wish she’d scheduled the appointment earlier instead of later in the day.

  Fighting her own exhaustion, she pulled the girls onto her lap, speaking to them in soothing tones. Emma pressed her cheek against their soft heads, glorying in their baby scent and the feel of thei
r warm bodies snuggled against hers. Once again, she thanked God for the blessing of these children.

  My girls. The adoption was to be finalized after the probationary period was over. Just six more weeks.

  A curt knock on the door heralded the arrival of the doctor. Emma looked up with expectation as the door began to swing open. When she saw the tall man enter the room, her smile slid away. Dazed at the sight of her old boyfriend, she blinked, suspecting she would’ve fallen out of her chair had the children not anchored her to her seat.

  “Travis?” she managed when she could force air past her vocal chords. His achingly familiar smile hit her in the solar plexus, leaving her winded.

  “Why, Emma. It’s been a long time.”

  “Are...you’re Dr. Taylor?”

  He motioned to the framed certificate on the wall. “That’s what my license says. University of Texas Medical School right there in black and white.”

  “I, uh, had no idea. I mean, nobody told me your first name—someone recommended the clinic and—”

  He cleared his throat. “How have you been?”

  “Um, fine.”

  The words came out automatically as memories whirled like eddies through her mind—of Travis’s earnest desire to marry her, of an argument with her parents about the unsuitability of a relationship with a kid unlikely to make anything of his life. Their daughter, they’d said, should marry someone worthy of her—like a doctor.

  Emma stifled a hysterical urge to laugh as she looked up at the towering man in the steel blue button-down shirt, black slacks, and boots. Without a white coat, he didn’t look anything like a doctor, except for the stethoscope draped around his neck. Then she realized he still had those liquid brown eyes fringed with lush black lashes, that sweet dimple in his cheek, and—