Second Chance Cowboy. B.J. Daniels

      “I wish I could do it over,” she said with heat. “I would do things so differently.”

      He chuckled. “Wouldn’t we all.” He let go of her hands to step to the car. She watched him lock it. “For the time being, don’t drive the car. Let me see what I can find out.”

      She nodded numbly. She couldn’t help being worried about Charlotte and the baby. “I didn’t realize how much I wanted to be there when my first grandbaby was born. I had wanted Charlotte to put the baby up for adoption. But still I thought I could be there for my daughter and at least see the baby…”

      She turned away, not wanting him to see her cry. Hank’s kindness had turned her into a fountain.

      This wasn’t the way she’d wanted things to be between them. She didn’t want him to know this side of her. Not the woman with all this baggage. How could he even stand to look at her?

      “Arlene,” he said.

      She turned to find him directly behind her.

      He cupped her cheek. His thumb pad brushed the corner of her mouth. “Try not to worry,” he said softly. “I’ll see you tonight.”

      She looked into his eyes. He still wanted to go out with her tonight? She nodded numbly.

      He smiled. “Leave it to me.”

      She watched him walk to his vehicle, still stunned not only that he’d come into her life, but also that he was still there.

       Won’t be for long.

      Her mother’s voice. But Arlene didn’t argue with the sentiment. Wait until Hank learned about her daughter Violet.

      VIOLET EVANS PEERED out the hospital window, past the pathetic array of patients, to the fence that had become her prison.

      Just a few more weeks.

      It had been her mantra for months, and lately it hadn’t been working—and that worried her more than she wanted to admit.

      She’d been doing so well, pretending for months to be catatonic before miraculously coming out of it with no apparent memory of the bad things she’d done in the past. How many people could pull something like that off? Very few if any, she would wager.

      She’d always known she was smart, but lately she’d come to realize she might be a genius.

      Of course, she had to hide that fact from the doctors. Clearly they weren’t half as intelligent as she was, since they had no idea what she was up to.

      Just a few more weeks.

      And she would be free.

      So why couldn’t she relax and just do what they were asking of her? Why did she feel as if her insides were starting to show through her skin?

      The doctors had insisted she do an in-patient work program to prepare her for when she got out. Which meant she filed for hours at the nurses’ station. She thought she would go crazy for sure if she had to do it much longer.

      And then there were the nightmares. She’d never told anyone about them. These doctors would have a field day with even one of her dreams. She shuddered to think of what they would make of them. What she herself made of them if she let herself delve too deeply.

      Just a few more weeks.

      But it was getting harder and harder to remember that, and just the thought of never getting out of here—

      She shoved that thought away and concentrated on revenge. But even the revenge she’d planned against her mother had lost some of its power.

      Maybe worse than the nightmares was the voice she kept hearing in her head. She’d thought it was her mother’s but lately she couldn’t be sure it wasn’t her grandmother’s.

      It was distracting and confusing, and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep this up. The place was literally driving her crazy, making her question things.

      Like her mother’s culpability in all this.

      She shook her head, trying to banish the confusion. Of course it was her mother’s fault. Everything was always the mother’s fault.