Текст книги "Heart of Texas"

Автор книги: Debie Macomber

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Текущая страница: 29 (всего у книги 32 страниц)

8

RICHARD HAD BEEN GONE A WEEK. TO GRADY, his brother’s disappearance was both a blessing and a curse. Only now was Grady getting a complete picture of the damage Richard’s extended visit had wrought. Every day since his brother had vanished, a fistful of new bills arrived, charges Richard had made using the family’s accounts.

The bills were stacked on Grady’s desk, and whenever he looked at them, his anger mounted. He’d made a list of money owed and checked it three or four times before he could grasp the full extent of what Richard had done.

While a majority of businesses in town accepted credit cards, ranchers tended to avoid them. Grady carried only one, and it was tucked in the back of his wallet for emergencies. All his purchases were paid for with cash or put on account, then paid in full at the end of each month.

In the weeks since his return, Richard had taken it upon himself to run into town to pick up supplies, and Grady had let him. Sending his worthless brother on errands had seemed innocent enough, and it freed up Laredo, Wiley and him for the more serious ranching chores. What Grady didn’t know was that every time Richard had driven into town, he’d charged clothing, expensive liquor, all kinds of things, on the family accounts. It added up to nearly eight thousand dollars, not including the money still owed on some of his earlier purchases. Richard had masterfully hidden what he’d done, robbing Peter to pay Paul, returning goods and buying other things with the credits. He’d managed to disguise his actions using a number of clever cons. Merchants had trusted him. Trusted the Weston name.

Now Richard was gone, and just like six years earlier, Grady was stuck with the mess he’d left behind.

Unable to tolerate looking at the stack of past due notices, Grady grabbed his hat and abandoned his office. The day was hot, although it was only nine in the morning, and he was supposed to meet Wiley and the hired hands near Gully Creek.

He was halfway to the barn when he saw Frank Hennessey’s patrol car coming down the driveway, kicking up a plume of dust in its wake. Grady paused and waited for the lawman. With any luck Frank would have some word about Richard and the stolen truck. Whereas Grady hadn’t filed charges against his brother six years ago, he felt no such compunction now. He wanted Richard found and prosecuted to the full extent of the law.

Richard deserved a jail term, if for nothing more than the agony he’d caused Caroline by kidnapping Maggie. Until the day he died, Grady wouldn’t understand what had prompted his brother to steal away with the child.

For her part Maggie seemed to have made a full recovery. Thank God. She clung to Caroline, but that was understandable. She refused to talk about where she’d gone or who she’d been with, but anyone with half a brain knew it’d been Richard. If Grady had anything for which to thank his useless brother, it was that he’d had the common decency to bring Maggie back to her mother.

Frank parked the patrol car in the yard and slowly climbed out of the driver’s seat. “Morning, Grady.” He touched the brim of his hat.

“Frank.” Grady nodded in greeting. “I hope you’ve come with good news.”

“Good and bad, I’m afraid,” Frank said. By tacit agreement the two men headed toward the house for coffee. Savannah was busy in her office, updating her rose catalog on the computer, but she’d recently put on a fresh pot.

Grady poured them each a cup but didn’t sit down. When it was a question of receiving news about Richard, he preferred to do it standing up.

“What have you learned?” Grady asked, after giving Frank a moment to taste the coffee. He leaned against the kitchen counter and crossed his ankles. Frank remained standing, as well.

“First, your truck’s been found.”

This was an unexpected and pleasant surprise. Grady had driven the old Ford pickup for ten years now, and he’d grown attached to it. The thought of being forced to buy a new one had rankled, especially in light of the mounting bills.

“Richard abandoned it in Brewster,” Frank said, “and stole another.”

While he wasn’t surprised, Grady would almost rather lose his truck permanently than have his own brother steal some other rancher’s vehicle.

“It was a newer model,” Frank said with a soft snicker. “Apparently yours was a bit too old to suit his image.”

Grady didn’t miss the sheriff’s well-placed sarcasm.

“Only this truck had an additional advantage,” Frank muttered.

“What’s that?”

“The owner kept a rifle mounted in the back window.”

Grady took a moment to mull over the information. “You don’t think Richard would actually use it, do you?”

The lawman shrugged. “Given the right set of circumstances, I wouldn’t put it past him.”

Grady had never thought of Richard as violent. He’d proved himself to be a weasel and a lowlife, but the fact that he might be brutal enough to use a weapon against another human being surprised even Grady. “What makes you think that?” Grady asked, afraid of what Frank was going to say. Last night he’d alluded briefly to something Richard had done back East, but at the time they were all too concerned about Maggie to give it much thought. “What do you know about Richard?”

The sheriff had never been one to hedge, and he didn’t do so now. “It gives me no pleasure to tell you this, but there’s been an arrest warrant issued for him from New York City.”

“New York? On what charge?”

“The list is as long as my arm,” Frank said with real regret. “Extortion for one. Richard’s been involved in a number of scams, most of them bilking immigrants from Central and South America. Apparently he fed them a pack of lies, luring them into the country with promises of housing and jobs. Promises he had no intention of keeping. He set them up in warehouses in horrible conditions, forced them into menial jobs from which he collected most of their pay. It made big news on the East Coast when his activities were uncovered. Somehow he managed to scrape together the bail, then hit the road the minute he was freed.”

Grady had been angry at his brother and furious at himself, too, for allowing Richard to worm his way back into their lives with his hard-luck story. Richard had taken advantage of his family; that was bad enough. But to learn he’d made a profession of stealing from others made Grady sick. How was it that his own brother—born of the same two parents, raised in the same household—could have lowered himself to such depths? If he lived to be an old man, Grady would never understand what had turned Richard into the type of person who purposely hurt others.

“I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, Grady,” Frank said again.

“I realize that.” His voice sounded strange even to his own ears.

“When and if we find Richard, I won’t have any choice but to arrest him.”

“I understand.” Grady wouldn’t expect anything less. It was what his brother deserved.

“I talked to the New York district attorney this morning. The state wants him bad. Apparently there’s been quite a bit of press regarding his arrest and the charges brought against him. He’s hurt a lot of people, Grady.”

“What happened to him? What made Richard the way he is?” The questions were rhetorical; Grady didn’t actually expect the sheriff to supply an answer.

Frank shook his head. “Hell if I know. I liked Richard. He was always charming and clever—but somehow that turned into conniving and untrustworthy. Why he’s like that, I couldn’t say. Over the years I’ve met other people who were just as rotten, and I don’t believe environment or bad circumstances is always the explanation. Your parents were God-fearing folk, and they raised him right. The fault lies within Richard himself.”

Although Grady already knew as much, it helped to have a lawman as experienced as Frank confirm it.

“Eventually Richard will be caught,” Frank said, as if he felt the necessity to prepare Grady for the inevitable. “And when he is, he’ll be headed straight for prison.”

It hurt to think of his brother doing jail time, but Grady’s sympathies went out to all the people Richard had cheated, himself included.

Grady walked Frank out to his patrol car, then made his way to the barn. He whistled for Rocket and stopped abruptly when the dog didn’t come. Rocket’s hearing was getting bad, and he’d grown arthritic; these days, he mostly enjoyed lazing about on the front porch. But he still liked to accompany Grady to the barn. Just to reassure himself, Grady decided to check on his dog. Rocket had belonged to his father and was already middle-aged—seven years old—at the time of the accident. In the hard, financially crippling years that followed, the dog had become Grady’s constant sidekick and friend. He’d shared his woes, frustrations, joys and sorrows with Rocket, and the old dog always gave him comfort.

A smile came to him when he saw the dog lying on his usual braided rug. He whistled again. “Come on, boy, we’ve got work to do.”

Rocket remained still.

As Grady approached the front porch, his steps slowed. He wasn’t sure when he realized his faithful companion was gone, but by the time he reached the porch steps, his heart was full of dread.

“Rocket,” he whispered and hunkered down beside the dog.

One touch confirmed the worst. Rocket had died, apparently in his sleep.

An intense sadness settled over Grady. On a ranch dogs came and went, and he’d learned the downfall of becoming too attached to any one animal. But Rocket was special. Different. Rocket was a loyal intelligent dog—the best dog he’d ever had; Rocket was also the last tangible piece of his father.

His throat ached and he bowed his head for several minutes, not even trying to fight back the tears.

Once he’d composed himself, he sought out his sister. He found her working in her garden. “I need a shovel,” he announced without emotion, as if he didn’t know where one was kept.

As he knew she would, Savannah guessed immediately that something wasn’t right. “What happened?”

He steeled himself and told her. “Rocket’s gone. It looks like he died in his sleep.”

He watched as the sadness transformed her face. Tears filled her eyes. “Oh, Grady, I’m so sorry. I know how much you loved him.”

“He was just a dog,” he said with a stoicism he didn’t feel.

“Not an ordinary dog,” she added gently.

“No, not ordinary,” he agreed, the pain of loss tightening his chest. “If you agree, I’d like to bury him in your garden by the rosebush you named after Mom.”

She nodded mutely.

They worked side by side, brother and sister. Grady dug the grave, grateful for the physical effort that helped vent his pain. Again and again he was forced to remind himself that Rocket was just a dog, like a dozen or more who’d lived and died through the years. But he couldn’t make himself believe it.

When he finished, he placed a rock as a marker. Savannah stood beside him.

“Goodbye, Rocket,” she whispered.

“Goodbye, old friend,” Grady said.

Savannah sobbed and turned into his arms. Grady held her, battling back emotion himself. An image came to mind, a memory—his father crouched down and Rocket running toward him, leaping into his arms, joyfully licking his face. Their reunion would be a happy one, but Grady knew there’d be a hole in his heart for a long time to come.

* * *

“I’M GLAD WE COULD FINALLY meet for lunch,” Ellie Frasier said, sliding into the booth at the bowling alley café.

Jane Dickinson smiled in welcome. She’d been waiting ten minutes, but she tended to be early, a habit her family had instilled in her. This lunch date was something she’d really looked forward to, although it had been difficult to arrange with both their schedules so busy. But Dovie had encouraged Jane to meet Ellie, mentioning her in almost every conversation.

Jane had come to think of Dovie as a mentor and friend. Stopping to talk with her that first morning she’d gone for a jog had been one of the smartest things she’d done since moving to Promise. Unfortunately Dovie was still the only person in town she knew on a first-name basis. Despite her efforts to become part of the community, friendly gestures from the other residents of Promise were few and far between.

“So…Dovie thought it would be a good idea for the two of us to get to know each other,” Ellie said, reaching for the menu.

“I realize you’re getting married soon,” Jane said as a means of starting the conversation. “You must be terribly busy….”

Ellie nodded. “The wedding’s only a couple of weeks away.” A wistful look stole over her face.

Jane recognized that look—it was the look of a woman in love. Jane envied her happiness. After medical school and then working as an intern, followed by her residency at a huge public-health hospital in Los Angeles, there hadn’t been time in her life for anything other than medicine. Now she was trapped in Texas with only one friend and zero prospects for romance.

Ellie did little more than glance at the menu before she set it aside.

Jane had spent several minutes reading over the selections, but had failed to make a choice. “You know what you’re going to have?”

“I almost always order the chicken-fried steak.”

The thought of all those fat grams was enough to make Jane feel queasy. Even the salads listed on the menu were ones she normally avoided—coleslaw with mayonnaise dressing, for instance. Most of the food was battered and fried. Even the vegetables. Okra coated in cornmeal and cooked in a deep fryer. The same with tomatoes. It was a wonder anyone lived beyond twenty-five in this town. The eating habits here were probably the unhealthiest she’d seen in years. It was time the people of Promise caught up with the latest information on health and diet.

“The chicken-fried steak is great,” Ellie coaxed when Jane continued to study the menu.

The waitress arrived with her pad and pen. Ellie gave the woman her order, then chatted briefly while Jane reviewed her choices one last time.

“I’ll have a green salad with avocado if you’ve got it.”

The waitress—Denise, according to her name tag—wrote it down on her pad.

“With dressing on the side.”

Denise exchanged a scornful glance with Ellie before she called the order in to the kitchen. The woman’s reaction was typical of what Jane had encountered the past few weeks.

“What did I do that was so wrong?” Jane asked, leaning forward.

“First off, we Texans pride ourselves on our food.”

“The diet around here is appalling,” Jane blurted without thinking. “Everything is loaded with fat. Chicken-fried steak, barbecued meat, chili without beans—doesn’t anyone appreciate the high fiber content of kidney beans?”

“It’s exactly this attitude that’s causing your problems, Doc.”

“What attitude? All I’m trying to do is set better health standards for the community! It’s a wonder you aren’t all dead or dying.”

“And a wonder you haven’t been tarred and feathered,” Ellie snapped.

Jane’s mouth sagged open. She might have laughed if Ellie hadn’t looked so serious.

“You want to know why people are unfriendly?” Ellie asked. “Perhaps you should look at how you come across. Rude, superior and know-it-all! The only reason I agreed to talk to you is because of Dovie, who for reasons I don’t understand has taken a liking to you.”

The woman was spitting mad, and other than pointing out a few basic truths, Jane still didn’t know what she’d done that was so offensive.

“As far as everyone in this town is concerned, you can take your salad-eating wine-sipping butt and go back to California. We don’t need some surfer chick telling us what’s good for us, understand?”

Jane noted that the other customers had gone quiet. Several heads nodded in agreement. “I see,” she said, struggling to hold on to her composure. “But unfortunately I’ve signed a contract and I’m stuck here for three years. So if I’m going to live in this community—”

“Then I suggest you change your high-and-mighty ways.”

Swallowing her pride, Jane nodded. “I’m probably going to need a little help.”

“You need a lot of help.”

Jane decided to let that comment slide. “I’d appreciate a few words of advice.”

Ellie didn’t answer right away. “You sure you’re up to this?”

Jane smiled. As far as she could see, she didn’t have any choice. “Be gentle, all right?”

A smile cracked Ellie’s lips. “I’ll try.”

Jane sighed. They’d started off on the wrong foot, but she sensed Ellie could be an important ally, and she badly needed a friend her own age. Dovie was kind, but it would take more than the assistance of one woman to help her fit in.

“Denise.” Ellie waved her arm and called for the waitress. “Doc wants to change her order.”

“I do?”

“You said you’re willing to learn. Now’s your chance. Your initiation, if you like. First, I’ll teach you how to eat like a Texan. We can both diet tomorrow.”

Jane swallowed, then nodded. “What is it I want to order?”

Ellie motioned to the waitress. “The doc here will have the chicken-fried steak, fried okra and an extra scoop of gravy on her mashed potatoes.”

“All right,” Denise said with smiling approval, writing it on her pad. “Do you want a side salad with that?” she asked.

It would probably be the only healthy part of the entire meal. “Sure.” Jane was about to remind her to leave off the dressing, when Ellie added, “Put the dressing right on top of it, too, will you, Denise?”

The waitress grinned from ear to ear. “Not a problem.”

Jane decided then and there that either she’d adjust to life in Texas…or die trying.

* * *

MAGGIE GASPED AND BOLTED upright in bed, unsure for a moment where she was. Her skin felt clammy, and she was breathing fast. A moment later she realized it had only been a dream. She’d been in the town again, the one with the bad ghosts. Richard was in her dream, too. He was looking at her and his face kept getting wider and longer as if he were staring at her through a wavy mirror.

His voice boomed loud, too, and he kept telling her what would happen to her mother if Maggie told anyone where she’d been. Again and again she promised him she wouldn’t tell, and she hadn’t. Not anyone. Not even her dolls.

Kicking aside her blankets, Maggie stole out of the bedroom and sneaked down the hallway, guided by the night-light, to her mother’s bedroom. She stood and watched her mother sleeping, checking to make sure she was safe and no bad ghosts had gotten her.

“Maggie?” Her mother’s eyes fluttered open.

“I had a bad dream,” Maggie whispered.

Her mother tossed back the sheet, silently inviting Maggie into bed with her. Maggie was glad; it was a rare treat to sleep with her mommy. She climbed onto the bed and her mother wrapped an arm around her, then gently brushed the hair from her brow.

“Was it a very bad dream?” she asked.

“A scary one,” Maggie told her.

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

Maggie shook her head. She didn’t want to think about Richard ever again. She remembered that he didn’t know she’d taken the doll, and if he found out, he might send the bad ghosts after her. As soon as she could, Maggie had removed the doll from her backpack and hidden it inside a big tin in her closet. No one knew it was there. Not Mommy. Not Richard. Not anyone.

Safe in her mother’s arms, Maggie closed her eyes.

“You’re not frightened now, are you?”

Maggie shook her head, but it wasn’t true. “A little,” she confessed.

“Did I tell you Grady’s coming over tomorrow after church, and we’re going to the park for a picnic?”

Maggie’s spirits buoyed. “We are?” Usually they went out to the ranch and visited with Savannah and Laredo, too.

“Does that sound like fun?”

Maggie nodded eagerly. “Will Grady push me on the swing?”

“If you ask him.”

Maggie closed her eyes again and sighed deeply. “Grady’s not so bad. I’m sorry his dog died.” She’d liked Rocket.

She felt her mommy nod. “He’s going to miss him.”

“I’m going to miss him, too,” Maggie said. “Maybe we can make Grady feel better.”

“He doesn’t frighten you anymore?”

Maggie shook her head. “He does a little when he yells, but if I plug my ears I don’t really hear it.”

“He doesn’t mean to yell, it’s just…part of his nature.”

Maggie wasn’t entirely sure what that meant. But she knew that ever since the morning Grady found her running down the driveway and she saw his face light up with a smile, she’d liked him better. Until then, she’d never seen Grady smile, not a real smile, anyway. He’d hugged her again and again that day, and her mommy, too. Later he’d taken her into the barn and held her hand so she wouldn’t be afraid of Widowmaker and let her see the new colt.

Grady had reminded her that she had yet to choose a name for him. She’d chosen “Moonbeam,” and Grady said it was a pretty name. Wiley had teased him about it and said it sounded like one of those hippie names from the sixties—whatever that meant—but Grady had insisted Moonbeam was it. She’d chosen well.

“I think Grady’s special,” Maggie announced suddenly. She no longer felt any doubt. Richard had been fun at first, but he wasn’t a real friend.

“I do, too,” her mommy said softly.

* * *

CAROLINE HAD READIED the picnic basket and cooler before church, packing everything that didn’t need to be refrigerated. It had been Grady’s idea to go on a picnic in Pioneer Park and she suspected she knew why. Ever since she’d brought up the subject of Maggie’s father, he’d been waiting for her to tell him. She wished now that she’d ignored his advice the day they’d gone horseback riding. The day Maggie disappeared. It would make everything far less complicated now. She pushed the worry to the back of her mind, determined to have a good time. If the subject arose, she’d deal with it then.

The park sat in the very center of town and took up four square blocks. It had a wading pool for toddlers, as well as Promise’s one and only swimming pool, complete with diving board. The grass was lush and green and meticulously groomed. A statue of a pioneer family stood proudly in the middle, along with a plaque that described the pioneers’ role in Texan history. The paved walkways all led directly toward the statue.

Maggie loved the playground, and Caroline appreciated Grady’s willingness to indulge her child. Ever since that terrible night, Grady had given special attention to her daughter.

Caroline didn’t know what she would have done without Grady. That night had been a turning point for all of them. For her and Grady, and for Grady and Maggie.

The doorbell rang and Maggie screamed from inside her bedroom, “I’ll get it!” Caroline heard her race for the door.

The only person it could be was Grady. He’d followed them home from church, driving the old Ford pickup, which had been returned to him a few days before. Maggie had already changed out of her Sunday-school dress and into shorts. Caroline wore a sleeveless yellow cotton dress, with a wide straw hat and sandals, the same clothes she’d worn to the service. Grady sent her a purely masculine look of approval as Maggie dragged him by the hand into the kitchen.

“It’s Grady,” Maggie announced unnecessarily. “Can we go now?”

“Soon. I’ve got to load up the potato salad and fried chicken first.”

“Mommy makes the best potato salad in the world,” Maggie said. “She lets me peel the hard-boiled eggs and help her stir.”

“No wonder it’s so good,” he said and glanced from Maggie to Caroline.

The look, however brief, made Caroline wonder if he was speculating about who had fathered her child. Then again, she might be imagining it. Every time they were together, she became obsessed with her secret, with the need to tell Grady. She loved this man and she feared what would happen once he learned the truth.

“Go put on your running shoes,” Caroline instructed her daughter. Maggie dashed out of the room, eager to comply.

Grady watched Maggie go before turning his attention to her. “I didn’t embarrass you in church this morning, did I?”

“No,” she answered, wondering what he was talking about.

“I couldn’t keep my eyes off you.”

“I didn’t really notice…” She hated this tension, this constant fear that any look he gave her, any silence, meant he was wondering about Maggie’s father. Soon, she promised herself. She’d tell him soon. Perhaps even today.

Grady gripped her about the waist and they kissed, sweetly and unhurriedly. “I didn’t hear a word of Wade’s sermon,” he whispered into her hair, holding her close.

“Me, neither.” But not for the reasons he assumed.

“Wade stopped me on the way out the door,” Grady said, grinning, “and told me there’d be a test on the sermon next week. Not to worry, though, he was willing to share his notes.”

Caroline managed a smile. “I think Wade’s the best thing that’s happened to Promise Christian in a long time.”

“You’re the best thing that’s happened to me,” Grady whispered. “Ever.” He reluctantly let her go when Maggie tore into the kitchen.

The five-year-old was breathless with excitement. “I’m ready!” she cried.

Caroline added the potato salad and fried chicken to the cooler, and Grady carried it to his pickup. The three of them piled into the front and drove to the park.

Caroline noticed that Maggie was especially quiet on the short drive. She was concerned the child might be reacting to her tension. But Maggie’s spirits lifted the instant they arrived at the park. Grady lugged the picnic supplies to a vacant table, and while Caroline covered it with a plastic-coated tablecloth, Maggie insisted on showing Grady her favorite swing.

“Go on, you two,” Caroline said, waving them away. Once again she noticed—or thought she did—the way Grady studied Maggie. Briefly she wondered if he’d guessed.

Determined to ignore her worries, at least for the moment, Caroline spread a blanket on the grass in a shady area. When she’d finished, she slid the cooler beneath the table and out of the sun.

The sound of Maggie’s laughter drifted toward her, and Caroline looked up to discover her daughter on the swing set with Grady standing behind her.

“Higher!” Maggie shouted. “Push me higher!”

Grady did, until Caroline held her breath at the heights the swing reached. She pressed her hand to her mouth to keep from calling out a warning, knowing she could trust Grady with her daughter. She gasped once when the swing buckled, but Grady swiftly caught it and brought it back under control.

Eventually he stopped the swing and Maggie returned to earth. Squealing with delight, she still had energy left to run back to their picnic table.

“Did you see, Mommy?” Maggie cried. “Did you see how high Grady pushed me?”

Caroline nodded. “I saw.”

“I could touch the sky with my feet. Did you see? Did you see?”

“Yes, baby, I saw.”

The afternoon was lovely. After they ate, Maggie curled up on the blanket and quickly fell asleep.

Now, Caroline commanded herself. Tell him now. But she couldn’t make herself do it, couldn’t bear to see the look in his eyes when he learned the truth. Avoiding his gaze, she brushed the soft curls from her daughter’s brow.

“Any effects from her night away from home?” Grady asked. “Has she told you anything of what happened?”

“Not a word, but she woke up last night with a nightmare and wouldn’t tell me about it.”

“Poor thing.”

Caroline gazed down at her slumbering child, loving her with an intensity that went beyond anything she’d ever known, even the strong love she felt for Grady. “She’s back, safe and sound, and for that I’m grateful.”

“I am, too.”

Caroline leaned against Grady, letting him support her weight, his hands resting on her shoulders.

“Savannah reminded me that it’s Maggie’s birthday next week. I’d like to give her something special, but I need to ask you about it first. She seems quite taken with Moonbeam, so—”

“You’re giving her the colt?” Caroline could barely believe her ears. At the same time she realized that the mention of Maggie’s birthday created a natural opening to talk about her child’s father. To reveal his name.

No! she couldn’t tell him, Caroline thought in sudden panic.

“Of course we’ll keep Moonbeam at the ranch.”

While the offer was tempting, horses weren’t cheap to maintain.

“The gift includes room and board.” Grady answered her question even before she could ask it.

“That’s generous of you.”

“She’s going to be six, right?”

“Yes.”

His gaze softened as he studied the little girl. “You said once that you’d dated Cal.”

Caroline felt as though her lungs had frozen. This was as close as Grady had come to asking her outright about Maggie’s father.

“I did,” she said and looked away. He reached for her hand. “Now that Richard’s gone—”

“Do you mind if we don’t talk about my brother?” Grady said, interrupting her. “I want to escape him for a few hours if I can.”

“Of course, but—”

“I’d much rather concentrate on other things just now, like how good you feel in my arms.”

Caroline closed her eyes.

“It doesn’t matter, Caroline,” he whispered close to her ear.

“What doesn’t matter?”

“About Maggie. I already love her.”

“I know. It’s just that…” Caroline liked to think she would have continued if Maggie hadn’t chosen that precise moment to awake.

“Can we go swing again?” she asked Grady.

He grinned. “This time let’s bring your mother, too. All right?”

Maggie took Caroline’s hand and the three of them headed toward the swing set, the subject she was about to broach shelved once again.

The day ended far sooner than Caroline and Maggie would have wished. Grady dropped them off at seven and went to check in with Frank Hennessey. Caroline assumed it had to do with Richard, but she didn’t ask and he didn’t volunteer.

The light on her answering machine was flashing, and while she unpacked the picnic basket, she played it back.

“It’s Savannah. Give me a call when you get home.”

Tucking the phone to her ear, Caroline punched out her friend’s number. As she waited for Savannah to answer, she set the leftovers in the refrigerator.

“Hi, it’s me, Caroline. You called?” she asked when Savannah picked up the receiver.

“I did.” Savannah sounded pleased about something but didn’t elaborate. In fact, she appeared to be waiting for Caroline to speak first.

“Um, Savannah, was there a particular reason you called?” Caroline finally ventured.

“Aren’t you going to tell me, or is it a big secret?”

“Savannah, what are you talking about?”