Page 31 of Harrison Hyde and the Runaway Bride

He swung his head around to look at her. “What if I don’t get it back?”

“My mamma says when you’re worried or in a state of dread, think of the worst thing that can happen, and figure out how you’d get through it. Because you know you will. You got no choice. She says it takes away the dread. So, what if you don’t get the prototype back?”

“I guess… I can make another. Unless the person who took it takes my rights to it, as well.”

“You can make another. You have all the notes and things?”

“Backed up to cloud storage. Yeah.”

“So, if this person tries to take your rights, all that’s proof it was yours. You could take them to court, if you had to.”

“That’s true.”

“And you’d most likely win. You’re in the right.”

“I probably would win, if it came to that.”

“See? Better, right?”

He looked at her. She was always so upbeat, with the possible exception of a breakdown in the restroom at Manny’s just before her ex had shown up. It was kind of amazing. “Better,” he said. Not much, but she was right. He could build another prototype. He could prove he’d worked on the original design. And there was the patent, too.

She drove under the Texas Brand arch, along the winding driveway, and pulled along in front of the inviting front porch.

An hour later, Harrison was enjoying an unnecessarily huge dinner with Maria’s Aunt Chelsea, Uncle Garrett, Bubba, and Blue Boy. The droopy bloodhound laid under the table, watching for scraps. He only took those that fell within reach of his tongue, with minimal physical motion required.

He’d been fielding questions about his life in New York, his research, and his mom, once he’d mentioned her.

“I’m sorry you lost her,” Chelsea said. “If you ever want to talk, it’s what I do.”

“Thanks,” he said. “That’s kind. This place…” He set his fork down. “It’s special. I appreciate your hospitality.”

“Any time,” Garrett said, and the others echoed the sentiment.

Harrison didn’t think he’d ever felt more welcome, other than in his own home. This family was like a bigger version of hisown. Oh, their surroundings were different. Their customs. But the love, the core that held the rest together, that was alive and well in the Brands. It was too familiar to doubt, and too warm to resist.

After dinner, his offers to help clean up firmly refused, he’d headed up to his room. First, he took a long hot shower, and then, from the rocking chair by the window, placed a video call to his dad and sister. They both answered.

“Harrison!” his father said, beaming. “Oh, it’s good to see your face, son. How is the car trouble?”

He hadn’t told his dad the whole story and neither had Lily, as far as he knew. He’d asked her not to. “Well, the truth is, Dad, my car was stolen. They were after the prototype and they got it.”

“What?”

“What about the backup?” Lily asked.

“We don’t know. Carrie went to pick it up, and then she went missing. Her car’s at the school. The safe was open, the backup’s gone. She’s not answering calls or texts, and her phone’s off line.”

“Oh my God.” Lily pushed her silvery blond hair off her forehead, gathered it into her fist atop her head, then shook it before letting it go. Their mother used to do the exact same thing when frustrated.

“What are you going to do, son?”

“I don’t know. I’m here, for now. Safe and sound. And the FBI’s involved, so?—”

“The FBI?” They said it in unison. There was a tap on his bedroom door, and he called, “Come in.”

Maria came in, dessert plate in hand. Chocolate cake. God help him. “You missed dessert.”

“Who’s that?” his sister asked, while his dad looked at every corner of his computer screen. He only did video calls on the computer.

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