Long Road Home. Vicki Thompson Lewis

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that they didn’t have time for philosophical discussions. Wyatt carried the folding banquet tables back down the hall and set them up while Mary Lou used his battery-operated lantern to light her work space in the kitchen. Because the ranch was used to serving hot food outdoors for barbecues, Mary Lou had an assortment of warming pans heated by gel packs instead of electricity.

      As Wyatt helped her bring in the food, he laughed at his assumption that it would be finger sandwiches and tea cakes. This was hearty ranch fare—baked beans, ears of corn, coleslaw, fried chicken, mashed potatoes and a giant platter of chocolate frosted brownies for dessert. The only nod to what Wyatt considered girly food was a big bowl of salad and a relish tray of carrot sticks, celery, radishes, pickles and green onions.

      Sarah told Wyatt where to find a high chair for little SB, and he brought that in along with an oil cloth he spread under it to catch food fallout. Then he helped Morgan settle the little redheaded girl into her seat, along with her stuffed dinosaur and a bowlful of dry Cheerios. He’d never spent much time around little kids and he was surprised that he instinctively took to it.

      Mary Lou announced the food was ready and the women didn’t hold back. Laughing and talking, they loaded their plates and refilled their wineglasses. Wyatt, being gentlemanly and an uninvited guest, waited until they’d all gone through the line. That included Olivia, who’d finished Josie’s manicure.

      “I’ll fix your plate for you,” Olivia said to Josie. “You need to be careful of your fingernails.”

      “I can do it for Josie,” Wyatt said. “You go ahead and eat, Olivia.”

      “Why, thank you.” She gave him such a dazzling smile that he temporarily forgot what he’d volunteered for. He was fascinated by that tiny space between her front teeth. Adorable.

      “You’re making points fast,” Josie said to him. “Gallantry counts around here. Are you sure you’re not a cowboy?”

      When she spoke, he refocused on his task and picked up a plate. “My brother and I used to pretend to be cowboys when we were kids.” He grabbed a napkin and utensils, too. “Does that count?”

      “Absolutely.” She pointed to the steaming baked beans. “Lots of those, please. Light on the potatoes and heavy on the coleslaw.”

      Wyatt loaded Josie’s plate as instructed and carried it over to an empty chair next to the baby carrier sitting on the floor. Archie slept on, despite the racket.

      After making sure Josie was all set and hadn’t ruined her manicure, Wyatt crouched down next to the baby carrier. “Looks like he took after you more than Jack.”

      “I think so.” Josie gazed with fondness at her son. “He has Jack’s nose, though, and of course he’s only four months. His blond hair could get darker, but he definitely didn’t inherit Jack’s coloring.”

      Wyatt studied the tiny face, so sweet and soft. Something about the nose reminded him of Rafe’s baby pictures. “He looks … familiar.”

      “He should. You’re related to him.” Josie laid down her fork and looked at Wyatt. “I hope you’ll be patient with my husband. He puts his shields up when it comes to you, even though it’s not your fault that your mother … well …”

      “Abandoned him.” Wyatt met her gaze. “It’s okay. You can say it. There’s no good excuse for what she did and I promise I won’t try to make any.”

      “I’m sure that will help. At one time I thought Jack had accepted his past, but meeting you has stirred it up again. Unfortunately I think he resents the fact that she started another family while continuing to pretend he didn’t exist.”

      Guilt pricked him. “I don’t want to create problems.”

      “You’re not the one who created the problem. Diana did. Jack knows about you and your brother now, so you can’t put the toothpaste in the tube again. Coming back was the right move, in my opinion.”

      “Thanks, Josie. Jack’s a lucky guy to have you.”

      “We’re lucky to have each other,” she said softly. Then her glance shifted as she looked over his shoulder. “Too bad you can’t see the expression on Olivia’s face right now. Women get all mushy when they see a guy crouched down next to a baby.”

      Warmth crept up the back of his neck and he resisted the urge to turn around. “But I wasn’t doing it for—”

      “I know. I can see that you’re the real deal, Wyatt. Olivia can, too. We all can. Even Rodney.”

      Upon hearing his name, the dog padded over and pushed his nose against Wyatt’s leg. Wyatt ran a hand over the dog’s silky head. “Yeah, I know, Rod. I promised you we’d hang out and here I am ignoring you.”

      Josie chuckled. “Now Olivia’s really got a sappy look on her face. Kids and dogs. I’m telling you, Wyatt, you have a gift. Not that it’s any of my business, but is there a girl back home?”

      “No, actually, there’s not. I’ve been pretty busy getting my business up and running.”

      “In that case, I suggest you grab a plate of food and go sit by Olivia while she has a moment to herself.”

      Wyatt smiled. “Believe I will. Come on, Rod. Apparently you’re an asset to the cause.”

      As Wyatt headed to the buffet table, Mary Lou handed him a cold bottle of beer. “Most times the guys prefer this to wine,” she said.

      “Thanks, Mary Lou.”

      “There’s more where that came from. I brought in a small cooler and put it under the table. Consider it your reward for all your fine work.”

      “You’re a gem.” He tucked the beer in the crook of his arm, filled a plate with food, and walked over to where Olivia sat on a leather-covered ottoman.

      She glanced up, welcome in her blue eyes. “Hi, there. I’d offer you a seat, but there isn’t one.”

      “No worries.” Setting his plate on a nearby end table, he crouched down next to her. Rodney took a spot right by his feet. “I’m used to making do.” He unscrewed the cap on his beer and took a swallow. “That’s quite a spread Mary Lou put on.”

      “See, I told you to stay for the food.”

      He didn’t say what he was thinking, that he’d eat twigs and leaves if he could be near her while doing it. “You were right.” He noticed that Rodney was staring up at him as if he hadn’t had a decent meal in a week. “The dog thinks so, too.”

      “Don’t feed him anything. Sarah has him on a special diet. He’s overweight.”

      “How can you tell with a basset hound? They’re all sort of roly-poly.”

      “Beats me, but she wants him to be able to fit into his life vest and it’s still a little tight.”

      Wyatt blinked. “His what?

      “One reason she wanted to adopt him, besides the fact he’s adorable, was his tracking ability. Sarah’s always wanted a tracking dog on the ranch. Butch and Sundance, the two mixed

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