to rewrite the will to do that?”
“A handwritten codicil with witnesses should do it.”
“I hope you’re right.” Vern muttered. “But it bothers me. Duran sounds like a crank.”
Martin smiled and handed the two wills to Vernon. “Enoch was a crank himself. It figures he’d hook up with one of his own kind.”
“I wonder why he wanted this man to come to Texas,” Carolyn mused. “What’s the point?”
Martin gave a good-natured shrug. “Maybe that’s how he wanted it done. A friend to carry it out in person. Not to hand it off to some long-distance lawyer.” He made a wry face. “We lawyers are reputed to be a shifty lot, you know.”
Vern laughed, and Carolyn and Mickey both smiled. Carolyn said, “So I shouldn’t expect any surprises?”
Martin’s expression grew serious again. “There can always be surprises. If there are, we’ll deal with them as they arise. In the meantime relax, Caro. You’ve got a blessed event coming up. Don’t let some vague worry spoil it.”
Bridget Blum, the cook, knocked at the door frame. “Carolyn, that antique dealer from Austin’s on the phone. He wants to talk to you about the high chair from England. He can get it after all.”
Carolyn whooped. “He can? Fabulous! I’ll be right there—excuse me, everybody.”
And she was dashing off, the will forgotten for the time, her thoughts happily centering again on the coming of little Carrie.
Vernon pretended to hold his head in despair. “Antique? From England? The shipping alone will break us. She’s a woman possessed.”
“But it’s a good way to be possessed,” said Martin.
Mickey and Vernon walked him to the front door. As they watched Martin climb into his car, Vern said, “She has been extravagant lately. Beef prices aren’t what they used to be. It’s harder for her every year to keep this ranch in the black.”
Mickey knew. Every year she’d seen the profits wobble and sometimes shrink. “It’s just that she’s so excited right now. She’ll come back to herself. You’ll see.”
Vern patted her shoulder. “You’re exactly right. She’s kept a tight budget for a long time. She ought to be able to indulge herself.” He glanced at his watch. “I need to get back to the courthouse, but I’ll be home as early as I can. Mick, are you ready for this Duran character to descend?”
“Ready as I can be.”
Early that morning the man with the Caribbean accent had phoned and left a message on Carolyn’s answering machine. He said that he’d told Duran of the invitation, and Duran sent word he would stay if she wanted him to. But only if.
Carolyn and Mickey had found the message cryptic and wondered why Duran hadn’t phoned himself. Carolyn said maybe he was one of those people who didn’t like phones, and Mickey guessed that he was deaf, and they’d spend the whole visit shouting into his ear.
“I’m sure Carolyn’s delegated you the job of getting ready for Duran.” Vern smiled. “She’s too busy in Babyland.”
Mickey shot him a grin. “Bingo.”
She’d already seen to the guest room and given Bridget a supper menu. If Duran needed entertaining, she’d made a list of things that might amuse him. The Hill Country was in full spring bloom now, and if she had to, she’d drive him past every bluebonnet in the county.
Mickey spanked her hands together. “Don’t worry,” she said with total confidence. “I’ll handle him.”
THAT AFTERNOON Mickey was going over Carolyn’s extensive lists of Things That Must Be Done For the Great Journey to Denver.
Round-trip first-class tickets from Austin to Denver. Check.
Rental car in Denver. Check.
Arrange to courier extra luggage. Check.
Get Vern’s prescriptions refilled. Check.
Carolyn’s travel wardrobe. Fifty-two items, stored in guest-room closet, ready to be packed. Check, except two pairs of shoes.
Vern’s travel wardrobe (as if Vern cared). Twenty-one items. Stored with Carolyn’s to be packed. Check.
Presents for Beverly, twelve items. Check.
Presents for Sonny, nine items. Check.
Presents for baby, thirty-seven items. Check except locket to be picked up from jeweler in Austin.
Regular camera. Check.
Digital camera. Check.
Video camera. Check.
Film. Check.
Videotape. Check.
Mickey was starting page two of the list, when Carolyn called her into the living room. She was once again obsessed with The Matter of the Panda. Vern had just got home from work, and Carolyn wanted to talk to him, too.
“I’ve decided yes on that pink panda from Saks,” Carolyn announced. “But I don’t want to send it, I want to take it. I’ll have to carry it on the plane. See what the airline says, will you, Mickey? I’d hate to buy an extra seat for it. But I will if I have to.”
“Good grief!” Vern said. “A seat for a panda? We’ll be bankrupt.”
“Oh, hush,” Carolyn said. “When we come back home again, I’ll behave. You know I will. But that panda’s going to Denver.”
“That thing’s four feet tall,” he protested. “How can you carry it on? It’s big enough to carry you.”
“I don’t care,” said Carolyn. “It’s the most wonderful panda I’ve ever seen, and I want to give it to her myself.”
“Her? She’s a baby, Carolyn,” Vern reasoned. “She won’t even be able to see it.”
But Carolyn wouldn’t be budged. “I want to make Beverly laugh when she sees us deplane. It’s the cutest panda in the world. It’ll tickle her to pieces.”
“It won’t fit in the overhead.”
“I’ll hold it on my lap,” Carolyn replied. “It’s only a thousand miles or so.”
Vern rolled his eyes heavenward in mock despair. But when he let his gaze rest again on Carolyn, he couldn’t disguise his affection for her or his pleasure at her excitement.
Carolyn was thinking out loud. “But if I’m going to carry a pink panda, I can’t wear the red suit. I’ll wear the new pink one. But the shoes haven’t come yet. Mickey, will you call the store? I ordered them three weeks ago. What’s so hard about dying shoes pink?”
“Should be easy,” Mickey agreed and wrote,
Call
