Well, I’d better go. Mom’s still waiting for her daily report.”
“Tori talked to her mother yesterday. The whole bunch of parents are gathering for your daily report.”
“Must be because of the blizzard. Not much to do when you’re trapped in the house.”
“Right. Well, call me if you have any concerns. Oh, I heard the weather report a short while ago. They think the storm might blow itself out by tomorrow afternoon.”
“Terrific,” Russ said, but he noticed a decided lack of enthusiasm in himself that he didn’t want to examine.
“Okay, we’ll talk to you later.”
“Yeah. Thanks, Jon.”
Could he put off calling his mother? The four sets of parents all lived together in the main ranch house. They shared their problems and their joys with one another. The kids all grew up together. He was as close to his cousins as he was to Casey. He’d admit he was a little closer to Rich, since they were identical twins, but not much.
They were all one big happy family.
Until Abby died.
Then he’d bowed out. Oh, he’d still been a member of the family, but he’d avoided all their big get-togethers. He’d avoided every rodeo they had at the ranch. He’d withdrawn into a colorless world where he didn’t have to risk dealing with his emotions.
He’d known it was cowardly of him. But he couldn’t bear the pain of the memories. The sight of the joy his brother or cousins felt with their new babies. The soft touches, the exchanged looks with their wives. He’d shared all that with Abby. But no more.
He’d fallen into a rut of nothingness.
Okay, so now it was time to reenter life. His fingers actually shook as he picked up the phone. He could start slowly. After Isabella and Angel went on their way, he could attend a few family functions. That would do for a while.
He dialed the number, and Red, the man who’d taken care of the house for the past forty years, answered.
“Hey, boy, you making it all right?”
“Sure, Red. But I can’t quite make biscuits as light as yours,” Russ teased.
“It’s in the wrist, boy. You know that.”
Russ chuckled and asked for his mother.
“She’s been waitin’ for your call.”
“Russ?” his mother asked when she got on the line. “Did she wake up?”
“Yeah, she did, but not for long. And she was pretty weak. I fixed her some food, but she didn’t eat much.”
“What did you fix her? An omelette?”
He should’ve known his mother would guess that. “Yeah.”
“Oh, good. That would be good for her.”
“I hope so. Her name is Isabella, but that’s all I learned. She fell asleep too quickly.”
“Oh, my. She must be really weak.”
“Yeah. I don’t know how long she was sick before I found them.”
“How’s Angel?”
“As beautiful as ever. She recognizes my voice now.” He regretted adding that information.
“Uh, yes, babies do that quickly. So her mother’s name is Isabella? That sounds Italian.”
“That’s what Jon said.”
“I wonder if she was coming here to visit someone? We have a few Italian families around here.”
“Probably not, Mom. I think she would’ve told me at once. But I’ll admit she’s not thinking too clearly. She fell asleep while I was explaining our family to her.”
Janie laughed. “No wonder. There’s so many of us.”
“I know. But she’d heard our name before.”
“Well, that happens with Pete and Toby and even Rich.”
It bothered Russ how much he was pleased to be able to tell his mother that she’d never heard of anyone connected with the rodeo. “No, she hadn’t heard of them. She’s from New York, you know. At least, her license plates say New York.”
“Oh. Then I wonder how—”
“I don’t know, Mom. I’ll try to ask her the next time she wakes up. But I’ve got to go get the kitchen cleaned up right now. Before Angel’s next meal.”
“Of course, son. Oh, the snow is supposed to end tomorrow. We’ll get in to see how you’re doing as soon as we can.”
“Thanks, Mom, but there’s no hurry.”
When he hung up the phone, he stood there, his hand on the receiver, wishing everyone would quit telling him about the end of the blizzard. As if that was a good thing.
Chapter Three
When he moved to the kitchen to clean it up, he first took two steaks out of the freezer. A little steak and some vegetables would be good for Isabella. He’d cook them after Angel’s six-o’clock feeding.
He checked on Isabella several times before Angel finally sounded the alarm. He listened for Isabella to ask to feed her baby again, but he heard nothing. He gathered the baby against his chest and put the bottle in her mouth and all noise ceased. He cooed to her, entertaining her while she ate. Entertaining himself. He warned himself not to depend on Angel’s being around. After all, the snowstorm was supposed to end tomorrow.
But he doubted Isabella would have the strength by then to move on. After all, four bites of an omelette had knocked her out. It was strange that she hadn’t even stirred when Angel woke up. Suddenly he panicked. Still holding Angel, he jumped up from the couch and hurried to the bedroom door.
But Isabella was fine. She was curled under the covers, sound asleep and seemingly at peace. He backed away before Angel’s greedy guzzling of her bottle could bother her mother. Was Isabella going to sleep through dinner, too?
He’d looked forward to eating with Isabella. How pathetic. He was looking forward to dinner with a woman just this side of a coma. Yeah, he was going to have to change his lifestyle. Get out more. He didn’t need to consider dating or anything like that. He had no intention of dating. But he could hang out with his family.
It was just that he was curious about Isabella and Angel. He wanted to know they would be all right. That they had someone to turn to.
She probably had a truckload of relatives anxious to know what had happened to her. Especially if her car and her coat indicated her level of income. A runaway wouldn’t leave in her full-length mink coat and the Cadillac. That was a silly idea.
He had Angel changed and back
