Chapter 1

In Search of Anna

Winona's eyes blinked open, and she shifted in her seat.

"Have a nice nap?" Raylan slid his eyes to her then back on the road.

"Where are we?" she asked, yawning.

"About ten miles out of Nashville and headin' to Chattanooga," Raylan answered. "We've got another three hours or so. Ya' wanna stop now, maybe get somethin' to eat?"

Another yawn. "That sounds good. Maybe some coffee, too." She patted his leg. "That way, I can stay awake and keep you company."

They'd left Louisville around one in the afternoon, as soon as Gayle's pediatrician gave them the go ahead but did recommend Winona wait on the next vaccination series for another week or so. Willa was much better, fever free, and back to her cheerful self. Both she and Winona had fallen asleep about twenty minutes into the drive. Raylan hadn't minded the quiet. His head was filled with thoughts about how to find Anna Dumoir. He wondered if she even knew she was adopted. If not, finding out and being confronted with the brother she never knew all at once might be upsetting. Thinking along those lines helped him decide the first order of business.

"I'm gonna contact André and Marguerite Dumoir, first," he told Winona as he pulled the Lincoln into the right lane and slowed to exit. "It's the logical place to start, and I wanna find out how much she knows about where Anna came from."

"That's probably best," Winona nodded. He stopped at the light, and she peered out the window at the sign showing the different restaurants. "Where would you like to eat?"

"Nothin' fancy," Raylan answered. "Cracker Barrel?"

"Sure. The food is good, and the restrooms are probably clean."

"Thinkin' like a mama." He grinned at her.

The young waitress was enchanted by Willa and gave them extra attention, stopping at the table whenever she passed by to make sure the baby was liking her carrots and applesauce. Raylan had the chicken fried steak with home fries and corn, but Winona stuck with a salad with chicken and dressing on the side. They split a slice of peach pie with ice cream for dessert.

Raylan ordered two coffees to go while Winona changed Willa in the restroom and put her little sleeper on.

"This way, if she falls asleep we won't have to wake her up when we get to the motel," she said when she emerged.

"Good thinkin," Raylan winked with approval.

They had reservations at a place in Marietta, not far from the address Raylan had for the Dumoirs. Winona watched him as he fastened Willa into her car seat. Raylan was always quiet. Prying information out of him had been a full time job when they were first married. It hadn't gotten much better with the passing of time, but she'd learned when to push and when to back off and she sensed now that he needed to talk, he just didn't know how.

Slipping into the front seat, she buckled her seat belt and took a deep breath. Raylan slid behind the wheel, placing the hat on the console between them and turning to her. "Ready?"

"Yes," she answered. "Are you?"

His brow furrowed, puzzled.

"Are you ready to talk to the Dumoirs and find your sister?"

He sighed. "I wonder if I'm openin' a can of worms," he said. "What if she doesn't wanna know where she came from?"

"Would you want to know?"

"Huh?" He was puzzled again.

"If you found out that you were adopted, wouldn't you want to know where you came from?"

"Hell, yeah," he said, half grinning. "That'd be a dream come true for me to find out I was adopted. But Tami Jo . . . Anna . . . she dodged a bullet, and she don't even know it. Maybe she'd be better off not knowin'."

"But she has a brother," she said, laying a hand on his arm. "Don't you think she deserves to know that?"

"I dunno," he answered.

She leaned in and kissed him. "Everything is going to be fine."

They hit construction and bumper-to-bumper traffic on I-75 once they got into Georgia, and it was after nine when they finally reached the motel. Willa was sound asleep. The disinterested clerk at the desk apologized that the motel's two port-a-cribs were already checked out.

Irritated and too tired to find another motel, Raylan smacked his hand on the counter. "But I asked specifically when I made the reservation."

The clerk tapped at the computer keyboard with two fingers. "Oh, yeah. Someone musta missed that when the other people checked in and gave the crib to an earlier check-in. Sorry, man."

"Sorry doesn't give my baby daughter somewhere to sleep." Raylan's voice rose in volume and his jaw twitched.

"It's alright," Winona said, stepping up beside him and laying a hand on his arm. "We'll figure something out."

When they got to the room, Winona looked around. Spying the dresser, she placed Willa's carrier on top and slid the bottom drawer out as far as it would go. "Hand me that extra pillow," she said, pointing to the bed.

Raylan gave it to her, and she wedged it under the drawer to keep it balanced. "There. We'll pad it with a couple of towels, and it will be fine for one night."

"Heh," Raylan uttered, impressed. "You made a trundle bed."

She arched a perfectly groomed eyebrow. "I can be very resourceful."

"Um hm." He moved in, covering her mouth with his. "With her sleepin'," he murmured, "we could be resourceful in the shower."

Winona pulled away, tipping her head back and looking up at him. "I was thinking a nice hot bath would feel good."

Raylan made a face. "A bath?"

Winona peered into the bathroom. "It's a garden tub. Look. It's nice and big." She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her hips against him. "We'll both fit."

"Well," he glanced at the stall in the opposite corner. "The shower does look pretty small."

While Winona ran the water and got Willa out of the carrier, laying her in the makeshift crib, Raylan found the ice machine down the hall, got the whiskey from his suitcase, and fixed them both drinks in the plastic cups from the mini-bar.

"Here you go," he said, handing one to her.

She took a sip. "Thanks."

"You didn't put any fru-fru smelling bubble bath in there, didja?" He eyed the blue green water in the tub suspiciously.

Winona shimmied out of the soft cotton dress she'd worn in the car. "Just some sea salts I got at the spa." She unfastened her bra and tossed it at him, giggling when he caught it, hooking it out of the air with a finger. "You're over-dressed," she teased.

"That's easy enough to fix." He took the Henley off over his head, dropping it onto the floor. By the time Winona had stepped into the tub, he was right behind her. They sank into the water, and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back to rest against him. The water was just hot enough and had a light, soothing scent.

"Not bad," he said, his lips grazing her neck.

She ran a hand along his thigh. "It's more relaxing than a shower, don't you think?"

He stroked a breast. "I'm not thinkin' about relaxin' at the moment."

The water lapped around them as she leaned back for a kiss. Breaking it, she stood and nudged him with her foot. "Scoot," she said.

"Hey, what're you doin'?"

"You'll see." Slipping behind him, she wiggled into place and dug her fingers into his shoulders, kneading the muscles, tight from driving.

"Uhhh," Raylan closed his eyes and groaned. "That feels good."

Winona smiled and continued working her way down his arms, then back up to his neck. She finished, and he leaned into her as she ran her fingers through his hair. "Relaxed now?"

"Um hmmm," he said. He brought her calf up over his leg, and she stroked his thigh with her foot, teasing.

"Now," she said, her voice whisper soft in his ear. "Where were we?"

He turned his head to kiss her just as Willa's wail cut through the silence of the motel room.

"Dammit."

Winona pushed up, wrapping a towel around her. "Stay here, I'll get her settled and be right back."

Raylan listened as Winona calmed Willa with soft soothing sounds and then, he heard the music of the lullaby app Winona had told him about. But after a few minutes, Willa was still whimpering and the water was getting cool. Reluctantly, he heaved himself out of the tub, drying off and wrapping another of the thick white towels around his waist.

"Sorry, Cowboy," Winona said, glancing up at him. "I think she's finally back to sleep now."

"Good." He reached down to take the baby and laid her in the drawer, marveling once again at Winona's ingenuity for thinking of the perfect solution.

Winona slipped past him into the bathroom. "Hey, where you goin'?" He followed, coming up behind her at the vanity. "I thought we could take up where we left off."

Her eyes met his in the mirror. "Oh?" A smile teased her mouth.

"Yeah." He put his hands at her waist and pulled her hips back into his. She wriggled in response, then bit her lip and slowly undid the towel, moving away from him to let it slide to the floor. He gazed at her body in the mirror as he reached over to the counter for a condom and opened the package and rolled it on. Then, he pulled her hair aside and buried his face in her neck, kissing his way to her shoulder, one hand sliding up her waist to cup her breast. "I think we were about here," he murmured.

She sucked in a breath and reached behind, tugging at his towel. He followed her lead, dropping a hand from her hip to guide himself inside her. They moved together, slowly at first, watching each other's reflections. She bent lower, bracing herself on the counter, and he slid all the way in. He had both hands on her hips now and quickened the pace until Winona gasped out his name, and he followed her over the edge.

They sank to the floor of the bathroom, leaning back against the tub, catching their breath. Raylan shook his head to clear it. "Goddamn, woman." He grinned at her.

"Me?" She elbowed him lightly in the ribs. "You're the one who started it."

"I didn't hear ya' complain." He swung an arm around and pulled her close, kissing her forehead. "Just the opposite, in fact."

"You got me, Cowboy." She yawned and gave a tug on his hand. "Come on, let's get some sleep while we can."

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

Winona rolled onto her side to face him, raising up on her elbow and propping her chin in her hand. Willa lay on her daddy's chest, pushing up on her arms and struggling to get one knee under her to move forward.

"Da-da-da-da!" she grunted.

Raylan grinned. "She's gettin' strong."

"She's going to crawl soon."

"Watch out world!" he chuckled.

Willa's arms tired, and Raylan sat and scooped her up against his shoulder. "Ya' had your breakfast," he said to his daughter. "'bout time for your Mama and me to have ours." He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood, bouncing the baby lightly. She grinned up at him and grabbed the sleeve of his t-shirt to hang on.

"There's a mall not far from here on the way to the Dumoirs. I thought I could drop you off. You and Willa could shop, and then I'd meet ya' for lunch. No disregard to your ingenuity, but I think a port-a-crib might be in order. Whaddya say?"

"That's fine with me," Winona said. "Besides, she's growing so fast that some of the things I brought along don't her fit so well, anymore. Guess she's ready for some sleepers in the 6 to 9 month old size now."

"Hard to believe she's already six months old." He kissed the top of his baby's head. "Here," he said, handing her over to Winona. "If we're gonna get goin,' I'd better get dressed."

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

He dropped Winona and Willa off at the mall and took the expressway down to the next exit. Kevin Collins, the Marshal from New Orleans, had e-mailed him with the latest address for André and Marguerite on the south edge of Marietta, just outside of Atlanta.

Using the GPS app on his smart phone, Raylan drove through the winding roads of the nice, well-manicured Georgia neighborhood.

"2606 Bob Bettis Road," Raylan verified the address to himself, as he finally drove up to the modest, ranch home in the tree lined neighborhood. He took a moment to gather his thoughts before exiting his dust-covered Lincoln with Kentucky plates that suddenly stood out to him like a sore thumb. The thought crossed his mind that maybe he should have first stopped to wash off the travel dirt and bug splattered windshield. Too late now. He then decided it best to leave the hat on the front passenger seat.

As he made his way up the paved path to the front door, a woman came racing out the house, closing the door behind her and heading for the garage, as if she was on a mission. She was tall, light-skinned, with wide set brown eyes and salt-and-pepper hair cropped short and curling close to her head. Her arm strained to lift the canvas bag stuffed to the brim with papers, a fold-up umbrella, and a laptop case.

"Mrs. Dumois?" he asked, stopping her in her tracks.

"Sorry," she responded with an apologetic look on her face. "I'm late for school. My husband's home if you need anything." And she hefted the bag to her shoulder and disappeared around the side of the house to the garage for her car.

As he watched her race away in a late model Cadillac, Raylan made his way up the steps to the entry of the house and rang the doorbell. A burly, graying man in sweats answered the door, leaving the screen door latched between them.

"Mr. Dumois?" Raylan tried again with Anna's presumed father.

"That's Dumois," the man corrected Raylan's American pronunciation of 'Du-moy' to the French dialect of 'Du-mwah.'

"My apologies," Raylan sounded very sincere. "I was wonderin' if I might have a discussion with ya' about the whereabouts of your daughter, Anna?"

The man bristled. "Who wants to know and why?"

Raylan went straight to the point. "I don't mean to cause you or your family any trouble, but I only recently discovered that your adopted daughter, Anna, might very well be my biological half-sister."

The black, French Creole man looked the tall, white stranger up and down in disbelief.

"Ya' see, my parents are both dead now, and I came across our family bible in their things that contained a notation about the birth of your daughter. Her date of birth is September 8th . . . 1971," Raylan rambled nervously, digging the locket out of his pocket. "And I came across this, too."

Raylan opened his mother's locket and showed it to the man through the screen.

The man looked at the picture of the black baby in the locket. It certainly resembled his daughter. The date of birth was correct, too.

"Ellstin Limehouse of Noble's Holler, Kentucky told me all about the adoption," Raylan further explained. "Knowin' all my kin is now deceased, he figured it would do no harm for me to try and make contact now."

Breaking the sustained, no-response silence, Raylan spoke once again. "My name is Raylan Givens. I'm a Deputy U.S. Marshal assigned to the Lexington, Kentucky office," he explained, pulling one of his cards out of his wallet and showing it to the man through the screen, hoping he would open the door to take it. He did not. "But I'm not here on any kind of an official capacity. I only want to find out if it's true. If, in fact, I have a biological half-sister. Ya' see, I grew up as an only child. My family's now all gone, except I now have a baby girl."

A surprise to Raylan, a dry lump formed in Raylan's throat, as his heart began to beat out of his chest.

"Well, I'm sorry you had to drive all this way," the man finally spoke again, "only to find out that my daughter is also deceased." The man hung his head.

Not the answer Raylan was expecting to hear, he quickly tried to gather his scattering thoughts. "Wouldya mind tellin' me what happened to her?"

"Marshal Givens," the man cleared his throat, looking Raylan straight in the eye. "Sometimes, it's best to let sleepin' dogs lie."

And with that, the man firmly closed the front door in Raylan's face, leaving him standing there, alone on the landing. Raylan could then hear the man engaging the locks on the door. He left his card in one of the outer slats of the screen door.

The walk back to his car was a long one. He felt out of body, deeply disappointed, and surprised he had allowed himself to become so invested in this meeting.

Once back inside his car, he glanced at the clock on his dashboard. He had a lot of time to kill before meeting Winona and Willa for lunch and was not looking forward to having that conversation with Winona about how it all went. Suddenly remembering that there were dry counties in Georgia as there were in Kentucky, he decided to head back to the motel room for a late check-out and to retrieve his bottle of whiskey.

(To be continued . . .)