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Back The Hallows Save as PDF
Chapters (89)
  1. TITLE PAGE
  2. COPYRIGHT PAGE
  3. DEDICATION
  4. CONTENTS
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. 49
  54. 50
  55. 51
  56. 52
  57. 53
  58. 54
  59. 55
  60. 56
  61. 57
  62. 58
  63. 59
  64. 60
  65. 61
  66. 62
  67. 63
  68. 64
  69. 65
  70. 66
  71. 67
  72. 68
  73. 69
  74. 70
  75. 71
  76. 72
  77. 73
  78. 74
  79. 75
  80. 76
  81. 77
  82. 78
  83. 79
  84. 80
  85. 81
  86. 82
  87. 83
  88. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  89. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

“I’m guessing you mean you’ve heard I’m county attorney. You don’t approve?”

I stood close to her and could smell her perfume. Really, she didn’t look that much different. A few wrinkles that weren’t there before, but the youthful glow, the energy, the fierce intelligence that always had shone from her eyes, those were as bright as ever.

“Approve? I’m really proud of you. Seriously. For a woman to get to the top law enforcement spot in a town like this is incredible.” I sat on the hood of my car. “Kinda surprised me, though. You were more eager to get outa here than I was.”

“Yeah, well, life usually doesn’t work out like you planned.” She inhaled deeply and leaned against the wall of the condo. “Your Realtor recognized your name and called your dad as a reference, who told her to call me.”

“Sounds about right.”

“You staying awhile?”

“I don’t know yet.”

She moved a strand of hair away from her face. “Well, I wanted to see you to just . . . I don’t know.”

“What?”

“My father died shortly after you left, Tatum.”

The news hit me hard. “You’re kidding. Felix? He was healthy as a bull.”

“Heart attack. He’d been smoking and drinking since he was nine years old. Last of the cowboys, I guess. But real cowboys don’t live that long.” She paused and kicked at a pebble by her shoe. “You leaving while I was still in the hospital, I got over that. But you didn’t come to the funeral. You didn’t call, you didn’t send a card, nothing. You acted like none of us ever meant anything. My father loved you like a son.”

I nodded and felt something I seemed to be feeling a lot of lately. Guilt. I didn’t like it. Didn’t seem to fit right, like a tight jacket that was suffocating me.

“I’m sorry. You just . . . you want to leave behind your past sometimes so bad you forget that there’s people who can get hurt.”

She shook her head. “Doesn’t matter now. We’re all different people anyway.”

A woman got out of her car at the condo next door. She waved and said hello, and I waved back. “Out of curiosity, how’d you become county attorney?”

“When my father died, I was the only one that could run the ranch. Nineteen-year-old running a cattle ranch by herself. I had to get some workers and I made it happen, but I realized I wasn’t my father. The ranch was always his dream, not mine. Law school seemed like a good choice. I got my degree from UNLV. Kept the ranch. Started off as a prosecutor and just kind of rose through the ranks. The last county attorney was my mentor, so it seemed like a given that I would run.”