must be wondering—and getting impatient about it.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Well?”
“He hired me.”
“Oh, I knew it. I think you’ll love this job, sweetheart.”
“I think so, too.” Or at least, she would if her new boss would only realize that the job was all she was after. “But I’m not locked in yet. It’s a two-week trial and then we’ll discuss a permanent position.”
“A trial? Is that usual?”
Zoe almost let herself get defensive. But not quite. It was a reasonable question after all. “I gather he hasn’t had good luck with his assistants. He’s a little trigger-shy. But that’s okay. I am going to be terrific.”
“I know you are.” Her mom was smiling. Zoe could hear it in her voice.
“Thanks for the heads-up on this, Mom.”
“I want to help. You know that.”
“I do know.” She stuck her key in the ignition. “Okay, then. I’m on my way to the salon next.” She blew a long strand of chestnut hair out of her eyes. “I seriously need a cut. Gotta look good for my first day on the job. Love you and see you soon.”
“Wait.”
“Hmm?”
“We haven’t seen you for Sunday dinner at the ranch in a while….”
Zoe made a grim face at herself as she adjusted the rearview mirror. Bravo Ridge, the family ranch, was a short drive from San Antonio. Zoe’s mom and dad lived in SA, but most weekends they went to the ranch. Sunday dinner was kind of a family tradition. Not all the Bravo siblings made it every time, but they each made an effort to show up at least every month or two.
Zoe hadn’t gone in a while, not since early spring. She knew she was past due to put in an appearance.
“Zoe, honey, you still there?”
“Right here, Mom.”
“Say you’ll come.”
Zoe imagined her dad, Davis, getting all up in her face, calling her his little free spirit, teasing her in that totally annoying way he had, wondering aloud how long this job would last. “I don’t know, Mom. I have so much I need to do this weekend.”
“Please, honey. It really has been way too long.” Like most mothers, Aleta knew when to whip out the guilt card.
Zoe turned the key. Her cute little BMW’s precision engine purred to life. “All right. I’ll be there.”
“Great.” The pleasure in her mom’s voice was almost worth the potential headache of dealing with her dad. “Dinner’s at three or so, but come anytime.”
Sunday, she got to the ranch at quarter of three just as everyone was sitting down in the dining room.
Her dad was aggravatingly hearty. “Zoe. How’s my little girl?”
“Great, Dad. Doing well.” She put on a big smile and reminded herself that when he said “little girl,” he meant it with love. And she was his youngest child—well, if you didn’t count Elena, her half sister, who was a year younger. She went to him and he grabbed her in a hug.
When she tried to slip free, he put his big hands on her shoulders and held her in place. “What in the hell did you do to your hair?”
I am not going to let him get to me. She eased free of his grip and smoothed the thick curls that fell below her shoulders. “I always wanted to be a redhead. Now I am.” Like most of her decisions, she’d made it on the fly Thursday, after her interview with Dax Girard, when she went in for a cut. She’d stared at her reflection in her hairdresser’s mirror and decided she was beyond tired of having brown hair. It had to go.
And no matter what her father said, she knew the vibrant red looked good on her. It set off her fair skin and blue eyes.
“Ahem, well,” said her dad. “It’s very—”
“You look so hot.” Marnie, her brother Jericho’s bride of a little over a month now, came to her rescue.
Zoe turned gratefully into new sister-in-law’s embrace. “Hey. How’s married life?”
Marnie released her and slanted a happy glance toward her groom. Jericho slowly smiled. It was hard to believe he’d always been the family’s troubled loner. He didn’t seem the least troubled now. For the first time, he was really happy. With his life. And his new wife.
“It’s good,” said Marnie. “It’s very, very good.”
“You look beautiful, honey,” Aleta declared, already in her chair. Zoe went over and kissed her mom’s cheek and then sat down.
They began passing the platters of juicy T-bones, corn on the cob and baked potatoes.
It was a big turnout for a family Sunday. Everyone had shown up this time except for Travis, youngest of the boys. Travis was always off on some oil rig somewhere.
Matt and Corrine’s six-year-old, Kira, told them all about her new puppy, Rosie. “Rosie loves Kathleen,” she announced. Kathleen was Matt and Corrine’s second child, born the previous September. “Rosie wants to lick Kathleen all over. That’s what a dog does when she wants to give you a kiss. She licks you. It’s kind of icky and they slobber, you know? But Mommy says it’s only from love, so it’s all right.”
It was nice, Zoe thought, to have a few little kids around now for family gatherings. Her brother Luke and his wife, Mercy, had a boy, Lucas. Gabe’s wife, Mary, had a girl from her first marriage; Ginny was two now. Gabe doted on her. And Tessa, Ash’s wife and Marnie’s older sister, was four and a half months pregnant, so another niece or nephew was on the way.
After the meal, Zoe played pool in the game room, doubles, Marnie and Jericho versus Zoe and Abilene, who was Zoe’s older sister by a year. As she bent over the table to set up a bank shot, Zoe realized she was having a great time. Really, she had to remember how much she enjoyed her family. She needed to show up at these things more often, not let her dad’s careless remarks keep her away.
Around seven, she thanked Luke, who lived at the ranch full-time. She hugged Jericho and Marnie and headed for the door.
Her dad caught her as she was making her escape. “Zoe, hold on.” She felt the knot of tension gather at the back of her neck as he strode toward her. He was sixty now, but he still carried himself as if he owned the world—and everyone in it.
She braced herself for more criticism. But he only grabbed her in a last hug and told her not to be a stranger.
She looked at up at him and smiled. “I won’t, Dad. I love you.”
Gruffly, he gave the words back to her. “And I love you, too. Very much.”
Her car waited in the circular drive at the foot of the wide front steps. She slid in behind the wheel,
