didn’t think Betsy Ann had any lingering feelings for him. She’d dumped him like a hot potato in their junior year for some older guy. He’d bet fifty bucks that he knew what she wanted from him. If she was president of the Women’s Association, then she was calling about the parade. Justin didn’t want to open up that can of worms with his brother now. He had enough to contend with.
He scanned over all the messages scribbled down on notepaper, tossing them down one after another onto the desk. At some point he’d have to call these people back, but he wasn’t going to do that today.
Logan spoke up. “Let me know if I can help. You shouldn’t be bombarded by everyone you’ve ever known in a fifty-mile radius on your first week back.”
“Thanks, but I’ll take care of it.”
“I also gotta tell you Luke shooed two reporters off the property this morning after you left. They want interviews with Sergeant Slade.”
Justin jerked his head back and forth. “Man, I didn’t think my homecoming would cause such a stir.”
“Be patient,” Logan said, leaning back in his chair. “You coming home a war hero is big news around here. Everyone wants a piece of you.”
“Tell me about it. Robbie Dunphy cornered me today. He’s got some wild ideas about my future. Don’t even ask.”
Logan’s eyes lit with understanding. “Okay. Listen, Sophia wants to have you over to the cottage for dinner tonight. It’ll be quiet with just us, Luke and Audrey. No phone calls. No one barging in or cornering you.”
The cottage had been Sophia’s home when they were growing up. She’d lived there with her mother, Louisa, who managed the lodge. But when it came out that Louisa and Randall Slade had been lovers, the whole thing went bad and Louisa packed up Sophia and left Sunset Ranch. Recently, because Randall had put Sophia in his will, she’d returned to the ranch for her inheritance and Logan had fallen in love with her. “Sounds good, but I can’t make it. Tell Sophia I’m sorry. I have a…something to do tonight.”
Logan’s brows lifted. “A female…something to do?”
Justin glanced away. His brother was too damn perceptive. “Let’s just say, it’s important. I’ll tell you about it once I figure it all out myself.”
“All right, but you know that Luke and I are here if you need us. We have your back.”
“I appreciate that.”
Justin left Logan’s office and walked to his bedroom in the opposite wing of the house. Baseball trophies from his Little League days sat next to a smattering of CDs and DVDs from his teen years on a bookshelf. Textbooks were stacked one on top of the other, and his old dial-up computer that deserved a spot on Antiques Roadshow was stored on the lower shelf. Justin grinned at the old thing, thinking how far technology had progressed since his childhood. When he’d arrived home, he made a vow to tackle this room and get it up to speed ASAP. But he hadn’t brought order to the chaos yet. There was something mildly comforting in having things as they were…at least for a little while longer.
His brother Luke had seen fit to order the only new item in the room, a king-size bed to replace the single he’d had since he was a boy. When he sat down, the firm mattress supported his weight and he smiled as he stared directly across the room at the walk-in closet that had once doubled as a fort, a secret hideaway and an imaginary campground.
For the past nine years, he’d gotten used to close quarters with only the essentials of everyday life. Just a short time ago, his entire personal space on the outpost could fit inside that walk-in closet.
He closed his eyes for a moment. An image of Brett appeared. He couldn’t force it from his mind.
He was holding Brett’s limp body. His face was streaked with blood, clear blue eyes suddenly wild in the face of death. Crimson puddles pooled over Brett’s belly. Justin’s hand pressed down on the bloody seepage.
“Get out of here. I’ve lost this bet.”
“Hang on, buddy. Stay with me, Brett. Brett.”
Eyes devoid of life stared back at him. His friend’s warmth turned to ice.
Justin lay there with him, clinging to his body.
Shedding tears.
Justin snapped his eyes open. His body jerked involuntarily and he bounded from the bed. He paced, pounding the floor with his boots, back and forth, back and forth, with his head down. Tremors made it hard to breathe. His heart raced.
Brett’s bloody face remained.
He’d died four months ago and for all those months, the grief and guilt had been eating at Justin.
He forced his mind to turn to something else.
Connor’s chubby cheeks and vivid dark eyes filled his thoughts. Images of the little boy, so small yet so mighty, slowed his racing pulse. His breaths came easier now.
Connor.
Justin thought of the boy with proprietary pride.
He had to find out for sure if the boy was truly his son.
>
“I’m going in to kiss Connor good-night,” Kat whispered to Aunt Mattie from outside the bedroom door. “He’ll most likely sleep through the night. Thank you again for watching him.”
Aunt Mattie gestured with a wave of the hand. “Don’t you worry about a thing. You have a nice visit with Cecelia now. Doris is coming for a cup of tea. We’ll watch out for our little boy.”
Kat tiptoed into Brett’s old room—which she now shared with her son—and made her way to the snow-white crib on loan from one of Matilda’s neighbors. She smiled at the sight of Connor asleep atop baby-blue sheets with cartoon monkeys printed on them. “You be a good baby now. Sleep tight,” she murmured, placing an air kiss over Connor’s cheek. “Mama loves you.”
She lingered there a few extra moments, watching him breathe, in and out, his plump baby chest rising and falling. This little person, cozy in a terry-cloth sleeper decorated with brown footballs, filled her world with joy. She’d never get over the miracle of her unexpected but cherished son. It was hard to leave him, if even for a short while, but this meeting tonight had to happen.
Kat hated lying to Aunt Mattie. But she couldn’t think of any way around it. At least a lie didn’t feel so much like a lie if there was some truth in it. So Kat had told Matilda she was picking up a check from Cecelia Tilton for the baby clothes she’d put on consignment at her boutique. A month ago, when Kat had mentioned Babylicious, her budding online store featuring the fashionable and affordable baby clothes she designed, a very gracious Cecelia had offered her a place in her shop to help promote her work. Cecelia’s home wasn’t far from Blossom and this afternoon Kat had phoned the woman to make the arrangements.
Her conscience continued to nag her as she left the house and headed to Cecilia’s. But half an hour later, as she drove away from the shop owner’s home with a small check in hand, she felt a little better. Three hundred and
