a river on the property?”
“More like a creek, but they call it a river.”
“Can you swim in it? Not now, I know, but in the summer.”
“I wouldn’t recommend it.”
“It doesn’t matter. Grandpa says there’s a spring-fed pool for swimming. There’s also a small lake where he goes fishing. He said he’ll teach me how. Do you remember the ranch at all?”
“Not from when I was a kid.”
“When else were you here?”
“I paid a visit to the Dry Gulch a few months back along with your uncle Travis and R.J.’s four other biological children. We were given a tour of the ranch.”
“You had a family reunion?”
“More like a reading of R.J.’s commandments.”
“What does that mean?”
He knew he should let it go, but all Effie was getting from R.J. was propaganda. She should be exposed to a little of the truth.
“R.J. wants all his offspring to move back to the ranch and raise cattle. It’s a requirement if we want to be included in his will.”
“So if you move back here, part of the ranch will belong to you?”
That had backfired. Effie made it sound like manna from heaven instead of the bribe it was. “I’m not moving back here, so it’s a moot point, but, yes, that’s the gist of it.”
“Why not move out here? I mean, who wouldn’t want to own part of a ranch?”
“I’m not a rancher. I’m an attorney.”
“What about Uncle Travis?”
“He’s perfectly happy as a Dallas homicide detective. Believe me, he wants no part of R.J. or the Dry Gulch, either.”
Effie exhaled sharply. “Well, I do. You could inherit it and give it to me.”
He should have known not to get into this with Effie. Horses were her current phase. Naturally, she’d think living on a ranch was a super idea.
Effie went back to staring out the window. “Did you move to Dallas to be closer to Uncle Travis?”
“No. He moved here after I did. He was a detective in Louisiana before taking a job in Dallas.”
“So he moved to be closer to you?”
“No. He moved because he wanted a fresh start.”
“Did he get divorced, too?”
“No. He was instrumental in getting a crooked police chief sent to jail. Why all the questions?”
“No reason.” She went back to observing the passing scenery. The wooded area had given way to acres of pasture. A few head of cattle were off to the right, some grazing, most resting.
“Is this all part of the Dry Gulch?” Effie asked.
“So I was told.”
“Where’s Grandpa’s house?”
“We’re almost there. Keep watching and you’ll make out the roof and chimneys when we round the next curve.”
She stretched her neck for a better look and then started wiggling in her seat when the house came into view. The century-old structure in desperate need of a face-lift apparently excited her a lot more than his plush penthouse condo had.
A few minutes later, Leif pulled into the driveway that led to the separate three-car garage and stopped next to a beat-up pickup truck with a lifted hood. R.J. stood next to the right fender.
“Is that my grandfather?” Effie asked.
“That’s R. J. Dalton.”
She opened the door a crack and then hesitated, as if unsure of herself or of him. But when R.J. saw her and waved, she jumped from the car and ran to meet him much in the way she’d run to meet Leif when she was a little girl.
R.J. opened his arms, and Effie eagerly stepped into a giant bear hug. A pain so intense he nearly doubled over from it punched Leif in the chest. It had been years since Effie had hurled herself into his arms.
Reluctantly, Leif climbed from beneath the wheel and planted his feet on the concrete drive while R.J. and Effie exchanged greetings. He didn’t see the woman until he’d walked to the other side of the stalled truck.
She was leaning over the engine with an expression on her face that suggested she’d like to plant a stick of dynamite under the hood and put the truck out of its misery.
“What’s the problem?” Leif asked, thankful for any excuse to avoid dealing with R.J., even if only for a few seconds.
“Her battery conked out on her,” R.J. answered for her.
“With misfortune’s usual bad timing,” she muttered.
“It could have been worse,” R.J. said. “You could have been stranded on one of these back roads.”
“Like I was yesterday,” she said. “Fortunately, Tague Lambert happened by and gave me a start. He took a look at the battery and said I should get it replaced.”
“So why didn’t you?” Leif asked.
“I was planning to take it into Abe’s Garage in Oak Grove tomorrow. Wednesday’s my day off. Do you have a pair of jumper cables I can borrow, Mr. Dalton?”
“Sure as shootin’.”
Leif stepped in closer for a better look at the dead battery before turning to the woman. She wasn’t flagrantly sexy like Serena, but she had a natural girl-next-door kind of freshness about her. Impulsively, he checked her ring finger.
No golden band, but unless looks were deceiving she was much too young to engage in a tryst with a jaded, approaching-forty attorney like himself.
Not that he was interested in a new relationship. He hadn’t cleared the breakup hurdle of the one he was in yet.
“Even if you get the truck started, the battery is likely to give out on you again,” Leif said. “I don’t think you should try to drive it.”
“I don’t have a lot of choice. Sam Loden and his ailing mare are expecting me in about twenty minutes.”
“Don’t you go worrying,” R.J. said. “I’ll get you to Sam’s, but first we need some introductions.” He rested a thin, wrinkled hand on Effie’s shoulder. “This is my granddaughter Effie Dalton, the one I told you about.”
The woman wiped her hands on her jeans. “You must be the California granddaughter who loves horses?”
Effie
