Free Daughter of Texas by Terri Reed

together. “Though I would like to visit Gabby today.”
    â€œAre you sure you’re up for rehearsing? Considering.” He gestured toward her biceps where the white square bandage covered the evidence of the violence she’d suffered.
    Her gaze slid to her arm. She closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, determination lit up the dark depths. “My father would be the first person to say I shouldn’t wallow. I can’t just do nothing. I’ll go crazy.”
    He understood. He was itching to get out there and track down a murderer. “I’ll have SAPD send a cruiser to patrol the area and I’ll meet you at your car at noon.”
    For a moment he thought she was going to argue with him, but then she sighed. “I’ll see you then.”
    With a tip of his hat, he watched her hurry into one of the dance studios. Once outside, he pulled out his phone and made the necessary arrangements with the San Antonio Police Department, then returned to Ranger headquarters. He put Corinna at the back of his mind so he could concentrate on finding the person responsible for destroying the Pike family. Or at least he tried.
    Â 
    Corinna’s arm ached something fierce by the time she was finished rehearsing. After two strenuous sessions she wasn’t surprised. Because of the painful wound and the sorrow consuming her heart, she didn’t think she could manage not to cry in front of the children at Miriam’s.
    She sent a silent plea for forgiveness upward, to her father, to God, she didn’t know which. She wasn’t strong enough not to wallow just a little more.
    She arranged for another dancer to cover her classesat the shelter for the rest of the week. Though the shelter didn’t pay, teaching the children was such a joy. Watching them learn to fouetté, plié and jeté across the floor melted her heart. It was hard to let go, to ask for help, but she had to do what was best for the kids.
    As she left the dance studio and all the offers of condolences behind, she also acknowledged Ben had been right. She should have stayed at Gisella’s for a few days before venturing out. Accepting the sympathy of others while trying to maintain her composure was exhausting.
    Ben was waiting as promised by her compact car. Concern darkened his expression. “You look wiped out.”
    It grated to agree with him. “Yeah, I am. I won’t be going back to the shelter this week.”
    Approval lit his eyes. “That’s wise.”
    His appreciation twisted her up inside. She wasn’t sure if she liked it or resented it. She turned away to open her car door. “Can you take me to see Gabby now?”
    â€œOf course. Follow me.”
    Keeping pace with Ben’s Jeep wasn’t hard. The man drove well under the speed limit. Was that for her benefit? Or was he always so cautious?
    She followed him to an apartment complex. The well-kept grounds and pristine buildings were upscale. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected. A few mothers with youngsters in strollers walked along a paved path rimming the property. Here and there were other signs of children, a Big Wheel on the porch of one apartment, a doll sitting on the steps of another. Clearly this was afamily-oriented place. She peeked at Ben. Was he the settle-down type, not the swinging-bachelor type? Her palms began to sweat.
    Ben led the way to his upstairs unit and he opened the door and motioned her inside. Curiosity propelled her forward. What kind of home did he keep? Was he a neatnik? Or would his place be the stereotypical bachelor pad? Somehow, she doubted it.
    She found his apartment tidy, yet lived in. The leather couch showed signs of age in the distressed patches. A well-loved armchair looked invitingly comfortable. The beige carpet beneath the shocking-red area rug showed signs of being freshly vacuumed. The opposite wall was dominated by a plasma screen.
    â€œGabby,”