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Authors: Linda Lael Miller
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couldn’t be changed. Better to concentrate on the road to Denver, and Sasha’s much-anticipated visit.
Valentino, meanwhile, sat quietly in the back, watching with apparent interest as mile after flat mile rolled past the Pathfinder’s windows. He was good company, that dog. No trouble at all.
When they reached the airport, and she rolled a window down partway and promised she’d be back before he knew she’d even been gone, he settled himself in for a midmorning nap.
Tricia locked the rig and headed for the nearest bank of elevators, checking her watch as the doors slid open and she stepped inside. Sasha was scheduled to land in less than half an hour.
So far, so good.
T HE BIG TOUR BUS ROLLED UP the dusty road to the Creed ranch house just before noon, and the sight of it made Conner smile. The monstrosity belonged to Steven’s wife Melissa’s famous brother, the country-western singer Brad O’Ballivan, and there was an oversize silhouette of his head painted on one side, along with the singer’s name splashed in letters that probably could have been read from a mile away, or farther.
Davis and Kim had postponed their own road trip as soon as they learned that the Stone Creek branch of the family had decided on a spur-of-the-moment visit,and they were standing right next to Conner, grinning from ear to ear at the prospect of seeing their three grandchildren.
Conner, just as pleased as his aunt and uncle were, had nevertheless been waiting for the proverbial other shoe to drop ever since he’d learned that Brody was headed home, with Joleen Williams in tow. Several days had gone by since Malcolm had broken the news on the loading dock at the feed store, and there’d been no sign of David and Bathsheba in the interim, but Conner remained on his guard just the same. Brody would show up in Lonesome Bend, if not on the ranch, that was a given; it was only a question of when.
The Bradmobile came to a squeaky-braked stop in between the main ranch house and the barn, and the main door opened with a hydraulic whoosh . Six-year-old Matt and his faithful companion, a dog named Zeke, if Conner recalled correctly, burst through the opening.
Sparing a grin for his “Uncle Conner” as he dashed straight past him, the little boy hurtled off the ground like a living rocket, and Davis, laughing, caught the child in his arms.
“Hey, boy,” he said.
Steven got out of the bus next, turning to extend a hand to his spirited wife, Melissa, a pretty thing with a great figure, a dazzling smile and a law degree.
“Where are those babies?” Kim demanded good-naturedly.
Smiling, Melissa put a finger to her lips and mouthed the word Napping.
Steven approached, shaking his father’s hand and then turning to look at Conner. “Any word from Brody?” Steven asked.
Conner stiffened, a move that would have been imperceptible to most people, but Steven knew him too well to miss any nuances, however subtle. “Now, why would you ask me that, cousin?” Conner retorted.
Steven’s nonchalant shrug didn’t fool Conner, because the nuance thing worked two ways. “He told Melissa and me he might be headed this way,” he said. “That was a week ago, at least. I figured he’d be here by now.”
“He might be in town someplace,” Conner allowed, his tone casual. “Staying under the radar.”
Steven gave a snortlike chuckle at that. “As if Brody Creed has ever stayed under the radar,” he replied. His eyes were watchful, and gentle in a way that made Conner wary of what would come next. “You know he and Joleen hooked up somewhere along the line, right?”
Conner cleared his throat, watching as Kim and Melissa crept into the tour bus for a glimpse of the six-month-old twins, Samuel Davis, called Sam, and Blue, named for Conner and Brody’s dad. Davis, Matt and the dog were headed for the barn, because Matt had a serious addiction to horses.
“Yeah,” Conner said belatedly, and his voice came out sounding
Valentino, meanwhile, sat quietly in the back, watching with apparent interest as mile after flat mile rolled past the Pathfinder’s windows. He was good company, that dog. No trouble at all.
When they reached the airport, and she rolled a window down partway and promised she’d be back before he knew she’d even been gone, he settled himself in for a midmorning nap.
Tricia locked the rig and headed for the nearest bank of elevators, checking her watch as the doors slid open and she stepped inside. Sasha was scheduled to land in less than half an hour.
So far, so good.
T HE BIG TOUR BUS ROLLED UP the dusty road to the Creed ranch house just before noon, and the sight of it made Conner smile. The monstrosity belonged to Steven’s wife Melissa’s famous brother, the country-western singer Brad O’Ballivan, and there was an oversize silhouette of his head painted on one side, along with the singer’s name splashed in letters that probably could have been read from a mile away, or farther.
Davis and Kim had postponed their own road trip as soon as they learned that the Stone Creek branch of the family had decided on a spur-of-the-moment visit,and they were standing right next to Conner, grinning from ear to ear at the prospect of seeing their three grandchildren.
Conner, just as pleased as his aunt and uncle were, had nevertheless been waiting for the proverbial other shoe to drop ever since he’d learned that Brody was headed home, with Joleen Williams in tow. Several days had gone by since Malcolm had broken the news on the loading dock at the feed store, and there’d been no sign of David and Bathsheba in the interim, but Conner remained on his guard just the same. Brody would show up in Lonesome Bend, if not on the ranch, that was a given; it was only a question of when.
The Bradmobile came to a squeaky-braked stop in between the main ranch house and the barn, and the main door opened with a hydraulic whoosh . Six-year-old Matt and his faithful companion, a dog named Zeke, if Conner recalled correctly, burst through the opening.
Sparing a grin for his “Uncle Conner” as he dashed straight past him, the little boy hurtled off the ground like a living rocket, and Davis, laughing, caught the child in his arms.
“Hey, boy,” he said.
Steven got out of the bus next, turning to extend a hand to his spirited wife, Melissa, a pretty thing with a great figure, a dazzling smile and a law degree.
“Where are those babies?” Kim demanded good-naturedly.
Smiling, Melissa put a finger to her lips and mouthed the word Napping.
Steven approached, shaking his father’s hand and then turning to look at Conner. “Any word from Brody?” Steven asked.
Conner stiffened, a move that would have been imperceptible to most people, but Steven knew him too well to miss any nuances, however subtle. “Now, why would you ask me that, cousin?” Conner retorted.
Steven’s nonchalant shrug didn’t fool Conner, because the nuance thing worked two ways. “He told Melissa and me he might be headed this way,” he said. “That was a week ago, at least. I figured he’d be here by now.”
“He might be in town someplace,” Conner allowed, his tone casual. “Staying under the radar.”
Steven gave a snortlike chuckle at that. “As if Brody Creed has ever stayed under the radar,” he replied. His eyes were watchful, and gentle in a way that made Conner wary of what would come next. “You know he and Joleen hooked up somewhere along the line, right?”
Conner cleared his throat, watching as Kim and Melissa crept into the tour bus for a glimpse of the six-month-old twins, Samuel Davis, called Sam, and Blue, named for Conner and Brody’s dad. Davis, Matt and the dog were headed for the barn, because Matt had a serious addiction to horses.
“Yeah,” Conner said belatedly, and his voice came out sounding
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