Tracks of Her Tears by Melinda Leigh Page B

hundred and five. I miss your father terribly, and I always will. I can’t deny that a piece of me died with him, and I look forward to joining him when it’s my time.” Patsy had already had her name engraved on the double headstone that marked Bill’s grave. “But he would be disappointed in me if I wasted the rest of my life. Your dad lived every day to the fullest. He enjoyed life more than anyone I know. For me to do any differently would disrespect his memory. I have children and grandchildren and animals to love and care for. I’m not done living yet.”
    “I’m sorry. I just want to make things easier for you.”
    “And I love you for it.” Patsy touched her cheek. “But life isn’t supposed to be easy. No one appreciates things that are easy.” Her mom hefted her purse strap over her shoulder. “And speaking of things that aren’t easy, I would appreciate help setting up that portable crib.”
    “Of course.” Carly laughed.
    “Mama?” Always game to be awake past her bedtime, Brianna sat upright in her booster seat.
    “Yes?” Carly sighed. Now that she’d had a nap, her daughter would be awake for hours. So much for crawling into bed.
    Brianna stifled a yawn. “I’m hungry.”
    “Then we’d better get you a snack,” Patsy said, getting out of the Jeep. She went to the back, opened the rear door, and took out the portable crib Debra had loaned them.
    Carly heard the click of Brianna’s seat belt as her daughter scrambled to catch up with her grandmother. Carly climbed halfway into the backseat to free Charlotte from the car seat. Her back muscles protested as she lifted the limp child out and hoisted her over one shoulder. Patsy walked up the front steps and opened the door. Brianna was right behind her.
    Small Town Rule #2: No need to lock the door.
    The jingle of dog tags made Carly turn. Trina came around to the front of the house just as her mother opened the front door.
    Alarm prickled on the back of Carly’s neck. Had Patsy left the dog outside? No way. Her mother never forgot to let the dog inside.
    “Don’t go in—” Carly bumped the car door closed with her hip.
    Too late. Patsy and Brianna were already inside.
    Running in circles, Trina barked.
    Carly jogged up the steps and slipped into the house. Her mother and Brianna were halfway down the hallway. Turned as if to enter the living room on their right, they stared through the doorway. Shock whitened their faces.
    “What happened?” Carly asked.
    “We’ve been robbed,” Patsy said.
    “What?” Carly went to her mother’s side. The end table drawers were upside down in the middle of the room. Books had been swept from the shelves and lay scattered across the floor, and the couch cushions had been flung across the room. Carly’s gaze settled on an electronic tablet in the middle of the area rug. A thief wouldn’t have left a small valuable item behind. The house hadn’t been robbed. It had been searched.
    Patsy walked into the room, her head swiveling as she surveyed the damage. “I can’t believe someone would break in here.”
    Technically the house had been open, as always, so breaking in hadn’t been necessary. But intruders had never been an issue out in the country. This was not a house a robber would find by chance. Whoever had come here had done so with the farm as their target.
    Carly went to her mother’s side. “You need to call Zane.”
    “Of course.” Patsy opened her purse and rummaged for her phone.
    Brianna grabbed Carly’s hand. “What happened, Mama?”
    A floorboard squeaked overhead. The hair on Carly’s nape lifted.
    The intruder was still here.
    She tucked Brianna behind her and moved toward the hall, fifteen feet away. “We have to get the kids back out to the car.”
    Before they reached the hall, footsteps thudded on the stairs. A dark-clad figure leaped over the railing and landed in front of them.
    They were trapped.
    Brianna screamed. Carly wished she were carrying her handgun.