name is Johnny. He’s three, maybe almost four years old.”
Why didn’t she wait for me?
Cody took another long drink. He didn’t want to ask his next question, but he had to know. “Did Laura get married?”
“To a guy she met at college. From what I hear, it didn’t last long. Too bad. She deserves more.”
Cody tried to let that all sink in. Laura got married and had a son with her husband. He fumed at another man touching her, making love to her.
He’d always thought of Laura as his. She gave her virginity to him in her small dorm room on a twin bed, and she’d told him that she’d loved him since first grade. He’d echoed that same statement, and told her that someday he’d make her father proud. Someday he’d make something out of himself and could date her out in the open, not sneak around behind J.W.’s back.
It was selfish of him, but even when he told her to forget him—to find someone else—he’d hoped like hell that Laura would wait for him until he was released from prison. Three years was probably a long time, but here he was, ready to pick up where they’d left off.
Shoot. She must have found someone right away.
For a second, he wondered if the little boy was his, but then shrugged it off. In her letters, Laura certainly would have told him that he was going to be a father. Wouldn’t she? Of course she would!
Cody couldn’t wait to see Laura alone and ask her about the college dude. He wondered if she was divorced or still married to the guy.
Dammit, why the hell did she marry someone else?
He had to leave, get out of here. The huge barn felt as small as his jail cell. He jogged outside and sat on an overturned barrel behind the building, gulping the hot desert air.
Where was Laura? He had to talk to her.
* * *
Laura, her mother, J.W. and Johnny sat on designer chairs on the flagstone patio that was surrounded on three sides by the wings of the Duke ranch house. They were shaded from the hot sun by a large pergola, rich with bright fuchsia bougainvillea and surrounded by natural desert flora and fauna.
Laura loved moments like this—nice and easy, when she could enjoy the company of her family—that was, until someone started a fight.
She took a tray from Clarissa, Johnny’s nanny and all-around helper, which contained a frosty blown-glass pitcher and four matching pale green glasses that she’d bought on a trip to Mexico. Laura had always loved the set, and liked looking at the tiny bubbles that seemed to be trapped inside the thick glass.
“Thanks, Clarissa,” Laura said then turned to her father. “I hear you hired Cody Masters, Dad.”
He took the pitcher from the tray and poured the lemonade into a glass. “News travels fast.”
“Did you also help him get out on parole?” Laura asked, trying to be nonchalant.
“I did.” He tickled Johnny, and the laughing boy climbed out of his booster seat and got comfortable on his grandfather’s lap. J.W. hugged him tightly.
Johnny just adored his grandfather, and Laura could tell by J.W.’s various questions and comments to the boy that the man was training him to take over the Duke Ranch.
Johnny was the son that J.W. had never had.
“What your father didn’t tell you was that Georgianna Lindy walked over here and asked him to get Cody out.” Her mother glared at J.W. “The man killed someone, and your father gets him out of jail because she came and smiled at him.”
Her mother’s old wounds never healed. Penelope Belcher Duke had always despised Georgianna Masters Lindy. The story went way back and added to the long discord between J.W. and Mike Masters.
The truth was that J.W. loved Georgianna first, but she’d picked Mike Masters over him, and Penny never stopped feeling like second best.
“That’s enough, Penny,” J.W. said between gritted teeth.
“Grandpa, can I ride Pirate now?” Johnny asked.
“No. Not right now, honey,” Laura answered. “It’s time for your nap.”
“Grandpa, I want to ride my horse!”
“Aw, Laura, let the boy ride. He’s a genuine Duke,” J.W. said. “He loves horses.”
“As opposed to a counterfeit Duke?” Laura said under her breath. “Dad, remember that I’m Johnny’s mother, and what I say goes. Please don’t interfere.”
“Oh, all right,” J.W. snapped at her, then turned to Johnny and tickled him. “Do what your mother says.” J.W. lifted Johnny and set him on the flagstones. “Take your nap, partner, and then you can ride your horse.”
Just as Laura stood up to take Johnny to his bedroom, Clarissa appeared and extended her hand. With a glance back at J.W., Johnny put his hand in Clarissa’s. “I’ll be right back, Grandpa.”
J.W. grinned and lit a cigar. “Sweet dreams, Johnny.”
Sweet dreams? Too bad she’d never heard J.W. say that to her when she was Johnny’s age. Laura followed Clarissa and Johnny toward the ranch house, feeling like a third wheel.
J.W. reached out and clasped Laura’s wrist. “Wait a minute. I want to talk to you,” her father said in the gruff tone he reserved for Laura and her mother.
“Yes?” Laura anticipated a pounding headache and sat back down. She looked to her mother for assistance, but Penny was busy typing something on her cell phone.
J.W. took a long pull on his cigar and blew a stream of stinky smoke into the bougainvillea. “I want to talk to you about Cody Masters.”
“I figured you would, sooner or later.” Laura knew the drill. “I’ll avoid him as much as I can, Dad, but what do you want me to do? Cody’s working here at the ranch, and I live and work here. I take Johnny to the barn to ride and out for walks. I’m bound to run into Cody.”
“You know what I mean.”
“You’ve been telling me the same thing since I was a kid. Cody Masters isn’t your enemy. Even Mike Masters wasn’t your enemy. He was your good friend at one time.” She turned to her mother. “Georgianna Masters was your friend at one time, too.”
“That was long ago.” Penny never looked up from her cell phone.
“Life is short.” Laura tapped a finger on the patio table. “All the more reason why you should mend fences.”
“Georgianna’s the one who should mend her fence. It looks horrible. It’s all falling apart.”
That was her mother’s attempt to change the subject and zing Georgianna at the same time, but Laura wasn’t going to fall for it.
“Mom, stop.”
“It’s
