not in the barn.”
Aaron glanced over. Annie’s eyes were in Aaron’s man-boy face, and it brought Jeremiah up short every damn time he looked at the kid. Aaron put down the sandwich and stood. “Casey and I will take the ATV,” he said.
“I’ll saddle Rider and check out the creek.”
“What can I do?” Reese asked.
“Stay here in case he comes back.”
“Oh, thank God,” he muttered, and flopped backward on the couch.
“It will be okay, Uncle J.,” Aaron said as he and Casey put on their boots. “He always comes back.”
Grateful for the help and the optimism, Jeremiah clapped his hand on the eleven-year-old’s shoulder, wishing things weren’t they way they were. Wishing these boys could just be boys, and he could just be an uncle and that every situation didn’t have the capacity for disaster.
* * *
LUCY DROVE UP to the small house she grew up in. She was happy to see the red climbing roses her mother had cultivated through the years still creating a green canopy over the south end of the house. It wasn’t warm enough for blooms yet, but every summer the scent of those flowers filled the air that came in through the window of her old bedroom.
Rose was the scent of her childhood. Of a warm, safe home. It was the scent of her family all together. In Los Angeles Sandra grew roses in pots on the balcony of their condo. But they weren’t the same. The scent had to combat exhaust and smog and Mr. Lezinsky’s cabbage rolls. And they didn’t bloom with the same wildness, the same gorgeous display of excess, as they did here.
Sort of like Mom, she thought.
Lucy stopped the car in front of the yellow house with white shutters and a bright red front door. For the hundredth time this morning, she called her sister.
“Jeez, Lucy,” Mia finally answered, lewdly out of breath. “Take a hint, would you?”
“Oh, for crying out loud. I’m outside. Stop whatever it is you two are doing. We need to talk.”
By the time she got out of the car and past the roses, Mia had the door open and was kissing Jack as he walked out the front.
“Your shirt is buttoned wrong,” Lucy pointed out, and Jack’s hands flew to fix the buttons on the black shirt he wore, in the process revealing pale skin and muscle.
“Stop staring at my husband,” Mia said.
“I’m sorry, I can’t stop. I didn’t think hydro-engineers were supposed to have bodies like that.”
“Mine does. Now git.” Mia pushed Jack down the porch steps. “I’ll meet you and the architect in an hour.”
“Wait,” Lucy said, stopping Jack from walking down the steps. “We have a situation up at the ranch house.” She filled Jack and Mia in on Walter’s sprained ankle.
“How long was he sitting there?” Jack asked.
“Doctors said according to the amount of fluid in his foot at least two hours.”
“Stubborn son of a bitch,” Jack muttered.
“Well, he’s on an air cast and is supposed to stay off it for at least three weeks. And that’s best-case scenario. And now Mom is talking about staying until Walter gets on his feet.”
“Well, that’s handy, isn’t it?” Jack blinked at Mia and then Lucy, as if the problem were solved.
Men are so dense.
“I’m not going to let our mom care for your dad. Not after what he did,” Lucy said.
“I agree with Lucy,” Mia said when it looked like Jack was going to argue. “We should just move back to the house,” Mia said. “I can—”
“No!” Jack said quickly. “I mean, I will move back if we have to, but…”
Mia ran a hand down his arm. That house didn’t have a whole lot of happy memories for Jack.
God, what a mess. Lucy didn’t want to go home and she didn’t want to stay. She didn’t want Mom taking care of Walter, but it was utterly unfair to ask these two to do it.
Mom wants to do it, she reminded herself.
“Mia,” Lucy said. “You guys deserve a little time alone. You’ve been caring for that man for five years.”
Jack and Mia shared a look and then Jack nodded. “We were just talking about this. Getting a ‘housekeeper’ who could act as a nurse.”
Mia pushed away from the white door frame to cup her husband’s cheek. It was too bad they were going to move out of this little house. It looked pretty on her sister. Sweet.
“It won’t be easy to find someone to take Walter on, much less get Walter to agree to it,” Mia pointed out.
“Well, Mom seems to think she knows how to get him to agree to a caregiver sooner rather than later.”
“How?” Mia asked.
“I have no idea, but Mom wants to stay for three weeks. By then he’s off the cast and the worst of it should be over. If I can’t get Mom to leave after three weeks, then I’m never going to get her leave.”
And three weeks should be enough time for me to figure out a plan for the rest of my life.
“You know,” Mia said, “if you need to get back to Los Angeles, you can. It’s not like Mom needs a babysitter.”
“You’ve done your time, Mia.” She smiled over at Jack, hoping she sounded convincing. “The two of you are building a house, starting a life. You don’t need to play referee between Mom and Walter.”
Mia sighed and put her hand on Lucy’s shoulder as if she could discern what was wrong just by touch. And she probably could. Lucy felt uncomfortable being so naked to anyone—even her sister. She fought the urge to shake off Mia’s fingers.
“Hey, Lucy?” Jack asked, his eyes focused on something past her head. “Who’s the kid in your car?”
She whirled in time to see Ben climbing out of the backseat of Reese’s car into the driver’s seat. The boy barely saw over the steering wheel, not that he was looking at them. Nope, the kid was focused on the steering wheel. The ignition key.
“Oh, Jesus,” she muttered, running down the steps of the porch just as Ben started the car.
The engine roared to life and she heard Jack and Mia charge down the steps after her.
“Stop!” she screamed, her heartbeat deafening in her ears. “Ben!”
The boy looked up, his dark eyes barely clearing the steering wheel. And then the car rocketed into Reverse and spun out, kicking up clouds of dust that choked and blinded her.
Frantic,
