A Man to Hold on to (A Tallgrass Novel) Read Online Free PDF

going to come down before the wedding so they can meet,” Carly was saying when Therese tuned in again. “It’s going to be fine, isn’t it? We’re all adults, and we can work things out.”
    “It’ll be better than fine. Mia and Pop already love him just for making you happy, and they’ll love him even more for himself. They’ll probably adopt him for their own, the way they did you.”
    “From your mouth to God’s ears,” Carly murmured. “Is there anything I can do to help with Abby?”
    “Just pray.”
    “I always do. Is there anything I can do to help you?”
    With a sigh from deep in her heart, Therese repeated the answer. “Just pray.” For strength, for courage, for wisdom.
    *  *  *
     
    Saturday night in Tallgrass, Oklahoma, was like being nowhere at all.
    But almost immediately Keegan contradicted that. Tallgrass was much bigger than Leesville, where he lived, and offered a lot more than miles of businesses butted up to one busy road. He arrived around sunset and drove through the town. There were the usual fast-food restaurants, bars, and churches that any town had, but also a sense of a real town, not just a place that existed to support the Army base. It had a thriving downtown, and there was action other than prostitutes and drugs—restaurants open, a few shops getting ready to close for the day, regular people strolling the sidewalks.
    Murals of oil rigs, cowboys herding cattle, wild horses, buffalo, and Indian encampments covered entire brick walls, along with old-timey ads for soda fountains and cigars. The downtown area looked solid, as if it had endured the Dust Bowl, drought, and tornados just fine and wasn’t planning on surrendering to any other disaster. It had a sense of permanency that appealed to him.
    He’d driven down Main Street from one end to the other, past the national cemetery and the two main entrances to Fort Murphy, then took First Street all the way from the south edge of town to the north. He would find food, then a room, just as soon as he checked out something else.
    The address was already in his Garmin, and the cheeky Australian voice he called Matilda led him through a few blocks of commercial property, then into residential neighborhoods. The houses in this part of town were mostly old, mostly well maintained, with mature trees that towered overhead and neatly mowed yards. The farther north and east he went, the bigger they got, the pricier, until finally he found himself at the curb across the street from 718 Cheyenne.
    It was two stories, white wood, dark shutters, redbrick steps and foundation. The porch ran the length of the house, but it wasn’t very wide, not like the porch on his mom’s house that functioned as an outdoor living room. There was a swing and a wicker chair at one end, two wooden rockers at the other, with big pots of red flowers evenly spaced along the porch.
    In the dim light, a piece of metal gleamed dully on the supporting post at the left of the steps, an anchor for hanging a flag. Flower beds lined the porch and the sidewalk that led to the driveway, where a silver minivan was parked in front of the garage. There were no toys visible—no three-wheelers or bikes, no basketball hoop, no abandoned skateboards. Inside, lights shone through sheer curtains in various rooms downstairs and were muted by blinds in one upstairs room.
    So this was where Mariah’s father lived. Keegan didn’t know much about him beyond his name, and what he did know wasn’t encouraging. The guy had been married when he’d gone to Fort Polk for training and hooked up with Sabrina. Then he’d come back home to Fort Murphy, and she’d never heard from him again. He hadn’t even had the decency to respond when she told him she was pregnant. One e-mail going astray, maybe, but four? All going to his army.mil account? Not likely.
    The house was nice, one Keegan couldn’t afford on his salary. Of course, majors made significantly more than sergeants, and