Lone Star Diary

A baby. Oh God. But just like all the others, I’ll probably lose her. Him? I simply can’t let myself start thinking about this baby as real.

Writing in this journal isn’t helping–I’ve got to talk to somebody. I’ll die if I don’t. Now. Today.

Robbie’s outside the door. I can’t lay this burden on her on her wedding day.

Markie! She’s been in this predicament herself, albeit as a teenager. Maybe she can help me sort this out.

A baby. Luke Driscoll’s baby.

Dear Reader,

Frankie is the eldest of the McBride sisters, but she’s the last to find true love…and to have the baby she’s always dreamed of. In Book Two, Lone Star Rising, Frankie separated from her cheating husband, and her affluent, carefully controlled life in Austin was shattered. But I think any woman as spunky as Frankie deserves a second chance, don’t you? And if anyone can make Frankie believe in love again, it’s Texas Ranger Luke Driscoll.

When Frankie and Luke go on their first date, she buys the pie. I’ve already had reader requests for Parson’s famous recipes from The Hungry Aggie. People tend to forget I make this stuff up! If you’d like the recipe for Texas Cream Pie, please check out my Web site at www.darlenegraham.com.

Thank you, dear readers, for all your encouragement as I wrote this trilogy. I had a blast!

My best to you,

Darlene Graham

P.S. I love to hear from my readers! Drop me a line at P.O. Box 72024, Norman, OK 73070 or visit my Web site and send an e-mail.

Reviewers say it’s Darlene Graham’s suspense that “grabs hold of her readers’ attention and never lets go.” But Darlene insists her writing is all about the love. “I’m not satisfied with my story until I’ve shed a few happy tears.” When she’s not sobbing into a tissue, the former nurse and mother of three grown children teaches writing classes at the local university and conducts workshops throughout the U.S. If she makes you cry, she’d love to know. Contact her at www.darlenegraham.com.

I have been blessed with a large and wonderful

extended family. This book is dedicated to all those precious relatives, especially the ones in Texas. I never take any of you for granted.

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

LUKE DRISCOLL fought down a clutch of nausea as his boots thudded along the dusty moonlit path. Even with the desert’s cooling night breezes, the landscape around him reeked like an outhouse.

Little wonder. The place was a virtual garbage dump. His flashlight illuminated an arid terrain littered with bottles, cans, trash bags, soiled disposable diapers, sanitary napkins, discarded clothes, ripped backpacks, even used toilet paper and human feces.

But it was the sight of a syringe with an exposed needle near his boot that disgusted Luke the most. The Coyotes and drug runners shot their veins full of stimulants, staying high to endure the torturous journeys. Their human cargo got no such chemical help.

Out of the moonlit shadows a figure wearing a U.S. Border Patrol uniform emerged and flicked a flashlight up into Luke’s face as he strode toward him.

Luke squinted at the glare as he fished his badge out of the hip pocket of his jeans and flipped open the cover. “Luke Driscoll.”

The light flashed off the badge, then the guard aimed the cone at the ground. “Nobody said anything about you being a Texas Ranger.”

“More like former.” There was no former, truth be told. In Luke’s mind, once a Ranger, always one. But these days Luke kept his badge in his pocket instead of pinned to his shirt for all the world to see. He no longer covered the span of a couple of Texas-sized counties the way most Rangers did. These days he worked indoors with the hard-bitten crew of the Unsolved Crimes Investigation Team out of Austin, where, he imagined, it had been quietly arranged for the powers-that-be to keep an eye on him. Long-Arm Luke had become Loose Cannon Luke after his wife and daughter were killed.

“Chuck Medina.” The border guard extended his hand and the two men shook. “I’m in charge of this case, at least for now.” The youngish agent, who looked part Hispanic, studied Luke’s face in the off-glow of his flashlight. “Driscoll? Where have I heard that name before?”

“Beats me.” Luke kept his expression impassive and his tone a careful neutral. He had long cultivated the habit of sidestepping his history. “Thanks for meeting me.”

“No problem. But I’m confused. What does the OAG want with this?”

“Nothing.” And Luke was glad of it. He preferred to work alone. While the Office of the Attorney General would tackle most anything—murder, money-laundering, child porn—they would never step on local law enforcement’s toes. And Luke had a feeling some pretty big toes were going to get stepped on in this deal. He had already delved into one murder that appeared to be part of some linked criminal transactions. “This one’s my personal deal.”