extra miles on her treadmill at home. This meal was worth every calorie.
“She’s moving to Sin City,” Sam said. “Las Vegas, Nevada.”
“I have a brother there,” Mary said. “I haven’t seen him in ten years. It’ll be nice to catch up.”
Grace listened while they all talked about Mary’s move and their uncle Steve. It seemed odd to her that not once was there any mention of the funeral or Edward Sloan. No shared memories of their life together. And not one person had stopped by to pay their respects. It was almost as if the man had never existed.
“My mom says you’re from Dallas, Grace,” Sam said, interrupting her thoughts. “What do you do there?”
She glanced at Rand, who appeared intent on buttering a biscuit. She’d promised not to mention the wild horses, but she supposed it was all right to mention the foundation. “I work with Edgewater Animal Management,” she said.
“I saw an article in the Dallas Chronicle about Edgewater Animal Management.” Matt teased his mother by reaching for her already buttered biscuit. Without missing a beat, Mary slapped her son’s hand and kept on eating. “If I remember correctly, the piece mentioned its founder was the daughter of some mega-millionaire Dallas businessman.”
“Probably some spoiled, buck-toothed debutante who wouldn’t know the backside of a mule if it stared her in the face,” Sam muttered.
“I do believe I would know,” Grace said curtly and stared at Sam.
There was a long beat of silence, then Sam’s eyes widened, and he had the decency to blush. Matt and Mary both started to laugh, and even Rand had a grin on his face. Sam took his knife and made motions of cutting his wrists.
“Hot damn, Grace,” Matt said, still laughing. “Any woman who can put my brother in his place is the woman I want to marry.”
“The fact that she’s beautiful and rich don’t hurt, either,” Sam added. “Come on, Matt, I’ll arm wrestle you for her.”
Mary shook her head at her sons’ nonsense while she offered Grace more chicken. Grace declined, shocked that Matt and Sam actually had their elbows on the table and hands locked, ready to wrestle. Never in her life had she seen anything like this. Dinner at her parents’ house was always quiet and sedate, a five-course meal prepared by a cook and served by a maid on fine china and linen tablecloths.
Dinner with the Sloan family was like getting on a roller coaster at Six Flags, Grace decided. An exciting, fun, adventure-filled ride that took your breath away.
Rand was the only one that held back, she realized. Not that he wasn’t at ease with his family. He was. But there was something about Rand that Grace couldn’t quite put her finger on. It was subtle, but he was different somehow from his brothers.
He was watching her now, she knew, ignoring his brothers’ shenanigans and focusing his attention on her. The intensity of his gaze made her shiver. The worst of it was, she couldn’t look away.
“If you want that chocolate cake,” Mary said to her sons, “you boys best get your elbows off that table. I taught you better manners than that. And, Rand, stop staring at Grace. You’re embarrassing her. Just look at her, she’s all red in the face.”
Grace dropped her gaze. She hadn’t been embarrassed, she’d simply been hot and extremely bothered. But she couldn’t very well tell Mary that.
The meal finished in relative peace—relative being a very broad term when it came to the Sloans. Sam and Matt flirted shamelessly with her, plus there were more wisecracks and insults between the brothers. Even Rand jumped in a time or two, but for the most part he was silent and thoughtful, as if his mind was somewhere else.
When Mary rose to get the cake, Rand told her to sit right back down, then looked at his brothers. Matt and Sam went out the front door, with Mary wanting to know what all the fuss was about. The two younger Sloan boys came back in a few moments later, carrying a large, blanket-covered box. They set it down at their mother’s feet and pulled the blanket back.
“Happy Birthday, Mom,” Sam said quietly.
It was a thirty-five-inch color TV with remote control and picture-in-a-picture feature.
Mary stared, then blinked furiously, got up without a word and walked out the front door.
Bewildered, Grace watched while the brothers all looked at each other and smiled.
It seemed that Rand wasn’t the only Sloan family member who wasn’t inclined to show emotion, Grace thought.
“Let’s set it up,” Matt said, then he and Sam carried it into the living room.
“It’s your mother’s birthday?” Grace asked Rand.
“Sort of,” he said cryptically and looked at the door his mother had walked out. When he glanced back at Grace, there was a grin on his face. “She just might need a little ‘feminine balance’ right about now,” he said. “Would you mind?”
She had no idea what he was talking about, but if Mary needed company, then Grace would be happy to sit outside with her. She looked at all the dishes on the table, but he took her by the arm and led her to the front door. “Never mind the mess. We’ll take care of it.”
It was the second time he’d put his hand on her today, the second time her body reacted with a mind of its own. Grace opened her mouth, but hadn’t time to speak before he’d opened the door, gently shoved her outside, then closed the door again.
The light from the living room window illuminated the front porch, but beyond the porch railing, it was pitch-black. Grace could see Mary on the porch swing, staring out into the dark. Grace waited, not certain if she was intruding or not.
“Come sit by me, Grace,” Mary said.
Grace sat and together they listened to the loud er-rick-er-rick-er-rick of an army of crickets and the rhythmic squeak of the swing. Inside the house, the sound of Mary’s sons talking and laughing in the living room drifted out into the warm night air.
“Rand doesn’t mean to be rude,” Mary said after a few moments. “He’s having a tough time right now.”
“You mean because of his father?”
“Heavens, no. There was no love lost between Rand and my late husband.” Mary sighed. “But that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about or why I wanted you to stay.”
“Why did you want me to stay?”
“Rand needs a woman like you right now,” Mary said.
Grace missed a beat on the swing, then picked it up again. “Excuse me for saying so, Mrs. Sloan, but I don’t think your son needs anyone, especially me.”
Mary laughed softly. “That’s where you’re wrong, Grace. I know my boy and I know what I see. He might not even know it yet, but believe me, he needs you.”
“Mrs. Sloan—”
“Mary.”
“Mary,” Grace said, shaking her
