him ready to pop a few more antacids. “I…don’t know what to say. A parade?”
Wasn’t that sort of thing reserved for Olympic champions and, well…Santa?
The last thing Justin wanted was a parade. He didn’t deserve the adoration of the entire county. He’d barely made it home in one piece mentally, and the word hero was reserved for soldiers much braver than he’d ever been.
“Yes, we’re all excited about it. But it’s gonna take a while to pull it off. Douglas County wants to welcome their hero home in style. We’ve got three high school bands practicing, a news crew alerted and the county’s Women’s Association and the Boy Scouts working together to build you a float.”
Holy crap.
A thought flitted into his head and he turned a suspicious eye on the sheriff. “You didn’t just bump into me today, did you, Robbie?”
“Of course I did. I would never abuse my authority by having patrol cars give me your location or anything.” The sheriff’s wry smile said the exact opposite.
Robbie was a sly one, not as Gomer Pyle–ignorant as he had people believing.
Amber strolled over, carrying a tray with two dishes of fried chicken, potatoes and gravy. She set the plates down on the table and smiled at him. “Here you go, Justin. Meal’s on the house, too. It’s my way of saying thank you for your service to the country.”
Robbie Dunphy rubbed his hands together, peering at his plate with boyish glee. “Looks delicious, doesn’t it, Justin?”
Justin stared at the food for a second and then raised his eyes to Amber, who patiently waited for his approval. “Sure does, Amber. Thank you.”
“And while we’re eating,” Robbie said to Amber, “Justin’s gonna think about becoming Douglas County’s new district commissioner.”
“That’s wonderful. Well, you two take all the time you need.”
After Amber walked off, Justin finished his ale and leaned forward in his chair. “Robbie, I know you mean well, but I’m not ready to make any decisions about my future just yet. The one thing I do know is that I’m not a politician. No way. No how.”
He didn’t want a parade in his honor, either, but Justin couldn’t bring himself to call it off. There were already too many people involved. Douglas County had been good to the Slades over the years, and Justin wouldn’t insult the citizens by telling them he’d rather be face-to-face with a rattlesnake than sitting on a float, waving to people who’d come out to pay him tribute.
>
It wasn’t until he pulled through the gates of Sunset Ranch that Justin’s muscles began to relax. Spirited mares and stallions dotted the pastures along the drive toward the house. The acreage was fertile here, the soil nurtured by runoff from the Sierra Nevadas and rain plentiful enough to keep the pastures green most of the year. Justin inhaled the scent of alfalfa and manure, of leather and earth, as he approached the one-story Slade house and parked the truck.
He’d always loved his childhood home and since returning he felt a greater appreciation for the freedoms and privileges life brought to him. He’d been in hellholes, seen danger and atrocity at its worst and survived, though not without some painful internal scars. The place he’d come from in the Middle East seemed far removed from life on Sunset Ranch.
Off in the distance he spotted two riders and immediately recognized one as his brother Luke. The woman riding beside him was his new fiancée, Audrey. The two had recently become engaged and were due to have a child of their own.
With Luke engaged and Logan’s wedding fast approaching, Justin felt like a fifth wheel already. And he’d only been home three days.
He climbed down from the cab and gave a wave to Ward Halliday, who was standing next to his car over by the main corral. The ranch foreman had welcomed Justin on his first day home with a manly hug, making no mention of his war hero status. He’d only wished him well and told him he’d missed him. Justin appreciated how perceptive the man was not to make too big a deal out of things. “How’s it going, Ward?”
“No complaints,” he called out. “Molly’s got beef empanadas waiting for me at home.”
“Sounds good. Tell her hello.”
Ward nodded. “Stop on by sometime. Molly would love to see you.”
“I will.”
Justin climbed the steps of the house and walked inside. From the foyer, he could see Logan leaning against his office door down the long hallway. He was drinking liquor from a tumbler and nodded for Justin to join him. “About time you showed up, little bro. I’ve been fielding your calls all day. Come take a look.”
Justin’s boots clanged against the stone floor as he made his way toward the office where Logan conducted Sunset Ranch business. Logan worked at the house, while his fiancée, Sophia, worked at Sunset Lodge. The two were planning a big blowout of a wedding. But they’d waited for him to come home; Logan had asked him to be his best man on his first day back.
Luke, too, had decided to wait so that Justin could be in attendance before tying the knot with Audrey.
“Want a drink?” Logan asked.
“No, I’m good.” He glanced around. Today, just like the other days since his arrival, he felt his father’s presence in the room despite Logan’s efforts to remove all traces of Randall Slade. Some things just died hard, he thought as he plunked down into a black leather armchair.
Logan sat down and faced him from across his desk. “You might, after you see these. You have seven phone messages flashing on the machine, and Ellie took all of these from the house phone.” Logan handed over a stack of notes. “Looks like you have at least three messages from Betsy Ann Stankowski alone.”
Justin’s head shot up. “You don’t say.”
Logan gave him a knowing smile. “Maybe she wants to pick up where you left off before you enlisted.”
Justin balked at that. Logan had caught them fooling around behind the barn once and when questioned, Justin had confessed Betsy Ann had been his first. His older brother had told him point-blank not to mess around with girls on the ranch or anywhere else. He was too young to know what he was doing and there could be consequences to pay. Yeah, well, years later, he hadn’t taken that advice with Kat, and as a result, he’d fathered a child. Maybe. “Betsy Ann and I were over way before I left town.”
“You mean, you actually listened to me?”
Justin clucked his tongue. “Now why would I do that?”
A smile spread across Logan’s face. “I didn’t think so. Betsy Ann teaches grammar school and I hear her students love her. She’s also made a name for herself as the president of the Douglas County Women’s Association.”
“Seriously?” Betsy Ann would always be stamped in his memory for granting him those painfully awkward, profound and awe-inspiring sixty seconds on the pool table. “She always did like school.”
“Three
