CHAPTER ONE
A month ago this had been her family home.
Ellie Frasier stood on the tree-lined sidewalk in Promise, Texas, staring up at the traditional two-story house with its white picket fence. The Sold sign stared back at her, telling her that nothing would ever be the same again. Her father was dead, and her mother gone.
This was the house where she’d been born and raised. Where she’d raced across the front lawn, climbed the pecan tree and hung upside down from its branches. On that very porch she’d been kissed for the first time.
Oh, how she’d miss that porch. Countless pictures had been taken of her on these steps. Her mother holding an infant Ellie in her arms the day she brought her home from the hospital in Brewster. Every Easter in a frilly new dress and every Halloween in a costume her mother had sewn for her.
The day Ellie turned thirteen and wore panty hose for the first time, her dad had insisted she have her picture taken on the porch. Then at eighteen, when she was a rodeo princess for the Brewster Labor Day Festival, her father had posed her on the front steps again. At the time he’d told her he’d be taking her picture there in her wedding dress before she left for the church.
Only, her father would never escort her down the aisle.
The rush of pain came as no surprise. She’d been dealing with it for weeks now. And before that, too, while he was in the hospital, desperately ill. But Ellie couldn’t believe he would actually die; death was something that happened to other people’s fathers, not her own. Not yet. He was too young, too vital, too special, and because she’d refused to accept the inevitable, his passing had hit her hard, throwing her emotionally off balance.
Even then, she’d been forced to hold her grief inside. Her mother had needed her to be strong. Ellie’s personality was like her father’s—forceful, independent and stubborn. Her mother, on the other hand, was fragile and rather impractical, relying on her husband to look after things. She’d been unable to deal with the funeral arrangements or any of the other tasks that accompany death, so they’d fallen on Ellie’s shoulders.
The weeks that followed were like an earthquake, and the aftershocks continued to jolt Ellie, often when she least expected it.
Her mother had given her the worst shock. Within a week of the burial service, Pam Frasier announced she was moving to Chicago to live with her sister. Almost immediately the only home Ellie had ever known was put up for sale. By the end of the first week they’d had an offer.
Once the deal was finalized, her mother packed up all her belongings, hired a moving company, and before Ellie could fully appreciate what was happening, she was gone. Whatever she’d left behind, Pam told her daughter, was Ellie’s to keep. The family business, too. Pam wanted nothing from the feed store. John had always intended it to go to Ellie.
Squaring her shoulders, Ellie realized there was no use delaying the inevitable. The key seemed to burn her hand as she approached the house for the last time and walked slowly up the five wooden steps. She stood there for a moment, then forced herself to unlock the front door.
A large stack of boxes awaited her. Ellie had a fair idea of what was inside. Memories. Years and years of memories.
No point in worrying about it now. Once she’d loaded everything up and carted it to her rented house, she had to get to the feed store. While her customers had been understanding, she couldn’t expect unlimited patience. George Tucker, her assistant—he’d been her father’s assistant, too—was trustworthy and reliable. But responsibility for Frasier Feed was Ellie’s, and she couldn’t forget that.
Which meant she couldn’t take the time to grieve properly. Not when she was short-staffed during the busiest season of the year. June brought with it a flurry of activity on the neighboring cattle ranches, and many of those ranchers would be looking to her for their feed and supplies.
By the third trip out to her truck Ellie regretted turning down Glen’s offer of help. Glen Patterson was quite possibly the best friend she’d ever had. Although she’d always known who Glen was—in a town the size of Promise, everyone knew everyone else, at least by sight—there was just enough difference in their ages to keep them in separate social circles during their school years.
The Pattersons had been buying their feed from Frasier’s for years. Her father and Glen’s dad had played high school football together. For the past few years Glen had been the one coming to town for supplies. When Ellie began to work full-time with her dad, she’d quickly developed a chatty teasing relationship with Glen.
She was lighthearted and quick-witted, and Glen shared her sense of humor. Before long she’d found herself looking forward to their verbal exchanges. These days whenever he stopped by, Ellie joined him for a cup of coffee. They usually sat on the bench in front of her store, idling away fifteen or twenty minutes, depending on how busy she was. When the weather discouraged outdoor breaks, they sat in her office to enjoy a few minutes’ respite.
It got to be that they could talk about anything. She appreciated his wry good sense, his down-to-earth approach to life. Ellie tended to obsess about problems, but Glen took them in stride. While she ranted and raved, he’d lean his chair against the building wall and tuck his hands behind his head, quietly listening. Then he’d point out some error in her thinking, some incorrect assumption or faulty conclusion. Generally he was right. His favorite expression was, “Don’t confuse activity with progress.” She could almost hear him saying it now.
It’d been a week or more since his last visit, and Ellie missed him. She could count on Glen to distract her, make her smile. Perhaps even ease this gnawing pain. But when he’d offered to help her sort through the boxes, she’d declined, moving everything on her own. Knowing she’d have to face these memories sooner or later and preferring to do it alone.
Within minutes of her arrival at the feed store, the place was bustling. Naturally she was grateful for the business, but she would have liked a few moments to herself. Then again, perhaps it was best to be hurled into the thick of things, with no chance to dwell on her grief and all the changes taking place in her life.
It was almost two before Ellie could dash into her office for ten minutes, to collect her thoughts and have lunch. Although her appetite was nonexistent, she forced herself to eat half a sandwich and an apple. At her desk, she sifted through the phone messages and found one from Glen. It was unusual for him to call during the day, especially in early summer when he spent most of his time working with the herd. Just knowing she’d been in his thoughts buoyed her spirits.
Since his parents had moved into town and opened the local bed-and-breakfast, Glen and his older brother, Cal, had taken over management of the ranch. Thus far they’d kept the spread operating in the black, doing whatever work they could themselves and hiring seasonal help when necessary. In the last few years, they’d begun crossbreeding their cattle with Grady Weston’s stock.
The phone rang and, thinking it might be Glen, Ellie reached eagerly for the receiver. “Frasier Feed.”
“Ellie, I’m glad you answered. It’s Richard Weston.”
If it couldn’t be Glen, then Ellie felt pleased it was Richard. He’d recently returned to Promise after a six-year absence, and they’d gone out on a couple of dates before her father’s condition worsened.
“How are you?” Richard asked in a concerned voice.
“Fine,” she responded automatically, which was easier than confessing the truth. She just couldn’t talk about her grief, her deep sense of loss. Maybe Glen was the only person she could share that with, Ellie reflected. But not yet. It was too soon. For now, she needed to forge ahead and do what was necessary to get through the day.
“You’ve been on my mind a lot the last couple of weeks.”
“I appreciate your thoughtfulness, Richard, I really do.” Ellie was sincere about that. She’d been a schoolgirl when he left Promise, and like every other female in her class she’d had a major crush on him. Richard was still the best-looking man in town. The years away had refined his features, and he was suave in ways ranchers could never be. City-suave. She liked him well enough but didn’t expect anything from their friendship. To be frank, she was flattered that he sought her out. The huge flower arrangement he’d sent for her father’s funeral had touched her, it was the largest one there and stood out among the other smaller arrangements. A number of the townsfolk had commented on it.
“I received the thank-you card,” he said. “The flowers were the least I could do.”
“I wanted you to know how much Mom and I appreciated it.” She paused. “It was nice of you to do that for us.”
“I’d like to do more, if you’d let me,” he said softly. “If there’s anything you need, make sure you phone.”
“I will.” But it was unlikely she’d take him up on his offer. Not even Glen, her best friend, knew how emotionally shaky she was. The pain was still so new, so raw, that she had to deal with it herself before she could lean on anyone else. Her father had been like that, too, and she was, after all, her father’s daughter.
“You know, Ellie,” Richard said next, “I think it’d do you a world of good to get out.”
A date? Now? No way. Ellie wasn’t ready, and besides, she had a million things to do before she gave a thought to her social life. She was about to tell him that when he spoke again.
“Nell Bishop called to tell us she’s having a birthday bash for Ruth this Friday night. Sounds like she’s going all out. How would you feel about tagging along with me?”
Ellie hesitated.
“You need to relax a little. Have a few laughs,” he added with the same empathy he’d shown earlier. “Let me help you through this.”
Ellie had received an invitation herself. Attending a party was the last thing she felt like doing, but Nell was a good friend and a good customer. She needed to make at least a token appearance.
“I probably won’t stay long,” she qualified, thinking it would be best if Richard went without her. They could meet there.
“No problem,” Richard quickly assured her. “I’m not much into this birthday thing myself. The only reason I told Nell I’d come was so I could ask you.”
“Oh, Richard, that’s so sweet.”
“Hey, that’s just the kind of guy I am.”
“If you’re sure you don’t mind leaving early, I’d be happy to go with you.” Ellie had always been fond of Ruth Bishop. She knew that Ruth and Nell had supported each other through the trauma of Jake’s death. Nell had lost the love of her life; Ruth had lost her son. Nell had struggled to hold on to the ranch despite numerous hardships, financial and otherwise. Ruth had been a wonderful help, and Ellie was sure Nell had planned this party as a means of thanking her mother-in-law.
“I’ll swing by your place around six,” Richard suggested.
“Six would be perfect.” They chatted a couple of minutes longer, and as she hung up the phone, Ellie realized she was actually looking forward to an evening out. It would feel good to laugh again, and Richard was always entertaining.
***
The sun beat down on Glen Patterson. He and his brother were on horseback, driving almost four hundred head of cattle to one of the far pastures. With two hired hands, seasonal help, they’d shuffled all the cattle through narrow chutes, vaccinating them.
Removing his Stetson, he wiped his brow, then glanced quickly at his watch. Ellie had been in his thoughts most of the day. He shouldn’t have listened to her protests; he should’ve stopped at her parents’ house that morning despite everything. Ellie could use a helping hand, whether she was willing to admit it or not. The woman was just too damn stubborn.
In his view she’d declined his offer mostly out of pride. He wondered if she felt mourning should be done in private, and he wanted to tell her she didn’t have to hide her grief, that it was okay to accept an offer of help. She didn’t have to do everything herself. He knew it had all been a brave front, but he didn’t have much choice other than to accept her decision.
Vaccinating the herd was not Glen’s favorite task. Still, it was better than checking the cows and heifers for signs of pregnancy, although he strongly suspected the animals weren’t any keener on the practice than he was himself. Glen wished to hell someone would invent a urine test for cows.
“I think I’ll head on back,” Glen told his brother. They’d reached the pasture, and the cattle began to spread out.
Cal’s attention didn’t waver from the last stragglers. “Going into town?” he asked.
Glen raised his hat a bit. “I was thinking about it,” he said with some reluctance. His brother’s ability to read his mind was uncanny at times. And damned irritating.
A telltale quiver at the edges of Cal’s mouth signaled the beginnings of a smile. “You’re going off to see Ellie, right?”
“So what?” Glen didn’t care for that tone of voice. His brother never had understood how he and Ellie could be friends and nothing else. But then, Cal had an attitude when it came to women, no matter who they were. Not that Glen blamed him. If a woman had publically humiliated him the way Jennifer Healy had humiliated his brother, Glen supposed his own feelings toward the opposite sex would be tainted, too. At times, however, Cal’s lack of perspective annoyed him.
“You two should own up to a few truths,” Cal announced, as though being two years older gave him some kind of wisdom—or authority.
“Truths?”
“You and Ellie have something going.”
“You’re right,” Glen admitted, and he could see that agreeing with Cal had taken his brother aback. “We’re friends. Is that so difficult to understand?” Glen couldn’t figure out what it was with his brother, and a few others, too. Even Grady Weston, his lifelong friend and fellow rancher, obviously believed there was more between him and Ellie than friendship.
The fact was that in four years they’d never so much as held hands—which should say something. He simply enjoyed Ellie’s company, and she enjoyed his. Anything romantic would ruin one of the best damn friendships he’d ever had. Ellie felt the same way. Okay, so they’d never openly discussed it, but then there was no reason they should. They understood each other. An unspoken agreement.
Yes, that was it; he felt better for having analyzed the situation. “Ellie and I have an understanding,” he explained with a sense of satisfaction. Cal wouldn’t argue with that. “It’s like the way you and I never talk about Bitter End.”
Cal’s eyes narrowed. Only a small number of families in Promise knew about the ghost town hidden in the Texas hills. Few ever mentioned it. Once, as teenagers, Grady, Cal and Glen had decided to look for the town themselves. It was supposed to be a summertime adventure. Something they could brag about to their friends. It’d taken them weeks to find the place, but eventually they’d stumbled on it. The town, with its abandoned buildings and eerie silence, had terrified them so much they’d never gone back. Not only hadn’t they returned, they rarely spoke of their experience.
“What’s Bitter End got to do with Ellie?” Cal demanded.
“Nothing. What I mean is, you and I don’t discuss Bitter End, and Ellie and I don’t talk about our relationship because it’s understood that neither of us is interested in a romance. Why’s that so hard to accept?”
“Fine,” Cal said with a snort of disbelief. “You believe what you want and I’ll pretend not to notice the truth.”
Glen was fast losing patience. “You do that, big brother.” He didn’t know what made Cal think he was such an expert on women. He was tempted to say so, but restrained himself. “I’ll see you tonight sometime,” he said, eager to set off. Ellie might act as if clearing out her childhood home was no big deal; Glen knew otherwise.
“Whenever,” Cal said without apparent interest.
Glen eased Moonshine into an easy canter and headed toward the ranch house. One of these days Cal would find the right woman and that would shut him up. Glen had never been too impressed with Jennifer Healy; as far as he was concerned, Cal had made a lucky escape. Unfortunately his older brother didn’t see it that way. Being ditched by his fiancée had made him cynical about women.
Switching his thoughts to Ellie, Glen smiled. He could almost see the quizzical smile she sometimes wore, could almost hear the sound of her laughter. That was what Ellie needed now—a reason to laugh. Laughter was a great emotional release, and she’d kept her feelings hidden inside for far too long.
He’d shower first, Glen decided, make himself something to eat and be on his way. Cal could sit in front of the tube if he wanted, but Glen had other plans. Much better ones.
***
Grady Weston’s throat felt parched as a dried-up creek bed. He walked into the ranch house and straight to the refrigerator. His sister, Savannah, made a tall pitcher of iced tea for him and Laredo every afternoon. Not bothering with the niceties, he reached for the glass pitcher and drank directly from that.
“Grady!” Savannah admonished him, coming into the room. Her dad’s old dog, Rocket, followed her, his movements slow and awkward. She carried an armful of fresh-cut old roses, their pungent scent filling the kitchen.
He finished one last swallow and set the pitcher down on the counter, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Where’s Richard?” he demanded, not wanting to hear about his lack of manners.
Okay, he should’ve taken the time to grab a glass, but damn it all, he was tired and thirsty. He added irritated to the list the moment he glanced out at the drive and saw that his pickup was missing. If it turned out that his no-good brother had absconded with his truck, his irritation would quickly turn to fury.
“I…don’t know where Richard is,” Savannah answered, and lowered her gaze. The way she avoided meeting his eyes was a sure sign that she had her suspicions but wasn’t willing to share them.
“He took the truck, didn’t he?”
Savannah shrugged, then nodded.
“I figured as much,” Grady growled, his anger mounting. Six years earlier Richard had stolen all the family’s money and promptly disappeared. Savannah and Grady had been left to deal with the aftermath of their parents’ deaths, the inheritance taxes and all the legal problems, while Richard was busy squandering every dime on God only knew what. Then, this past spring, he’d shown up, down on his luck and needing a place to live until the severance check from his last job arrived. Or so he’d told them. Savannah chose to believe Richard’s story, but Grady wasn’t going to trust him again. Not by a long shot.
Should’ve kicked him off the ranch the first day. He would have, in fact, if it hadn’t been for his softhearted sister. In the weeks since, Grady had called himself every kind of fool. Opportunity after opportunity had presented itself to send Richard packing, but he hadn’t taken advantage of a single one.
Grady had tried to reason it out in his own mind, especially after Richard had thrown himself a welcome-home party and stuck Grady with the bill. Deep down, Grady recognized that he wanted to believe Richard had changed. Even when every bit of evidence claimed otherwise. As the oldest he felt a responsibility to make everything right. He looked for ways to honor the memory of his parents. Ways to hold on to the ranch.
Their mother had spoiled Richard; her youngest son had been her favorite. She might be partly to blame for his self-centered behavior, but regardless of what he’d done, she’d have expected Grady to give him shelter. Even now, six years after her death, Grady found himself seeking her approval.
“Where’d he go this time?” Grady asked, disgusted more with himself than with his brother. Richard was a master when it came to manipulating people. He was charming and a clever conversationalist, unlike Grady who was often loud and brusque. He wished he’d inherited some of Richard’s success with the ladies, but he was too old and too stubborn to change now.
Savannah slowly shook her head.
“Does that mean you don’t know where Richard went or you don’t want to tell me?”
“A little of both,” she confessed.
Despite his anger, Grady smiled and sat down at the table. “I probably would’ve given him the keys if he’d asked,” he admitted with a certain reluctance.
“I…didn’t actually give him the keys, but I told him where they were.”
Savannah sat down across from him. It struck Grady how beautiful his sister was. As little as six months ago he would never have thought of her that way. She was just Savannah, his kindhearted younger sister. A woman who rarely raised her voice, rarely disagreed. A picture of calm serenity, while he struggled to contain his explosive temper. A woman who’d always been happy with her quiet low-key life.
Then one day, out of the blue, his sister had changed. No, he corrected himself, she’d always been strong in ways that made others seem weak, but he’d failed to recognize or appreciate those qualities in her. It had been quite a lesson she’d given him. She’d begun to assert her own needs; she’d made him aware that she wanted more from life than he’d realized or been willing to acknowledge. These changes came about because of Laredo Smith, a drifter who’d stumbled into their lives. A cowboy. A godsend. Grady and Laredo were partners now. The wedding had taken place a few weeks earlier in her rose garden, with only a few close friends as guests. In time the newlyweds would be building their own home and starting a family. Grady looked forward to having children on the ranch.
Falling in love had transformed his sister into a woman of true beauty. It was as if all the goodness inside her had become outwardly visible. He wasn’t the only one who’d noticed, either. A couple of months ago she’d cut her hair—formerly waist-length—and begun wearing jeans instead of those long loose dresses. All at once other men had started to take heed. Too late, however, because her heart belonged to Laredo.
“What time did he leave?” Grady asked, rubbing his face tiredly. The problems with Richard just seemed to multiply. The money he’d claimed was coming had yet to arrive, although he’d managed to reimburse Grady five hundred dollars.
Grady had serious doubts about any so-called severance pay owed to Richard. He suspected the money was just the beginning of a long list of lies his brother had been feeding them.
To Grady’s relief, Savannah no longer actively championed Richard’s cause, and he knew she felt as troubled as he did about their younger brother. Neither was comfortable at the thought of kicking him off the ranch entirely. Besides, Richard occasionally made himself useful, running errands in town and making token efforts to help around the ranch.
“He left about three this afternoon.”
“He didn’t go into town, did he?”
Savannah hesitated. “I don’t think so, but then, he didn’t tell me where he was headed.”
“I could have used an extra hand this afternoon,” Grady murmured.
But they both knew Richard’s answer to that. He was never cut out to be a rancher, which was the reason he’d given for fleeing with the family money—his share of the inheritance he called it, since he wanted no part of the ranch. The excuse stuck in Grady’s craw every time he thought about it.
“He’s been keeping himself busy,” Savannah said, and held his gaze a moment longer than usual. Neither one of them was entirely sure what he did with his time. He disappeared for hours at a stretch without telling anyone where he went or who he was with. Normally Grady wouldn’t care, but considering Richard’s history, it was worrisome.
“I heard him talking to Ellie on the phone earlier,” Savannah told him. “He invited her to Ruth’s birthday party.”
This didn’t give Grady any cause for celebration. He’d noticed his younger brother’s growing interest in Ellie Frasier. The fact that she’d recently inherited the family business hadn’t escaped Richard’s notice, and Grady worried that his brother’s interest might be leaning more toward that feed store than to Ellie. She’d dealt with enough grief to have anyone exploit her now.
“She doesn’t know, does she?” Savannah asked.
Grady shook his head. Few people in Promise were aware of Richard’s crime. It was something Grady preferred not to share. No one wanted his friends and neighbors to learn that his only brother had robbed him blind. Only a handful of folks knew Richard had run off with every penny in the family coffers the day they buried their parents. Vanished for six years until he’d needed help himself.
Grady cursed under his breath and waited for Savannah to chastise him.
She didn’t, and Grady soon realized why. The screen door opened and Laredo walked into the kitchen. The wrangler’s gaze immediately met Savannah’s and they exchanged a tender look.
They fascinated Grady. His sister and her husband were so deeply in love he doubted either one remembered he was in the room. Savannah stood and poured Laredo a glass of iced tea, which the man accepted gratefully. After downing the contents in four or five gulps, Laredo set the glass aside and hugged her close.
Grady watched his brother-in-law’s eyes drift shut as he savored holding Savannah. In all his thirty-five years, Grady had never seen any two people more in love. Watching them lost in each other’s embrace was almost painful, reminding him how alone he was. He realized he wasn’t an easy man to love—he knew that—and he doubted any woman would put up with him for long. Yet he couldn’t watch Savannah and Laredo and not wish for that kind of contentment himself.
Grady had never felt lonely before, never given much thought to marriage. Someday was about as close as he’d gotten to thinking about any future romance and then only if he could find a woman willing to look past his very noticeable flaws.
There hadn’t been time to give any consideration to his marital status and romantic hopes—such as they were. It’d taken him six years of backbreaking labor to dig the ranch out of debt. If all went well with this year’s herd, they’d be completely in the black once again.
“Caroline’s coming over later,” Savannah murmured.
Grady wasn’t sure who the comment was meant for. Probably him. Nor was he sure whether she intended this as a warning or as…something else. Caroline Daniels was Savannah’s best friend and the town’s postmistress; he couldn’t seem to get along with her, but he was afraid Savannah still had matchmaking ambitions concerning them. A completely hopeless and wrongheaded idea. Lately his sister and Caroline had spent a lot of time discussing and designing house plans, and while that didn’t affect Grady one way or another, he often found himself in the company of Caroline’s five-year-old daughter, Maggie. He’d been gruff and impatient with the girl not long ago, and she would barely look at him now. Grady felt bad about that.
And it irritated him no end that Maggie had taken to Richard, and being the smooth-talking charmer he was, his younger brother soon had the kid eating out of his hand.
Grady considered his squabbles with Caroline more her fault than his. He admired people who spoke their minds, but Caroline did it a little too often for his liking.
“Are you going to Ruth’s birthday party?” Savannah asked.
Grady hesitated, but only for a moment. “Probably not.”
His sister’s eyes flared briefly and he knew that wasn’t the response she’d wanted.
“Why not?”
He wasn’t accustomed to explaining his decisions, but Savannah had that look about her, and he knew it was better to deal with the subject now than postpone it.
“Do I need a reason?”
“Laredo and I are going,” she said, wrapping her arm around her husband’s waist. “Ruth’s a sweetheart, and it means a great deal to Nell that there be a nice turnout.”
“Cal’s not going.” Grady couldn’t resist pointing this out, although he didn’t feel he should have to.
“That’s exactly my point,” Savannah returned. “If you’re not careful, you’re going to end up just like Cal.”
“And what’s wrong with Cal?” Although he asked the question, Grady knew what she meant. Ever since Jennifer had more or less left him at the altar, Cal Patterson had little that was good to say about women. His cynical attitude got to be a bit much, even for Grady, but now wasn’t the time to admit it.
“There’s nothing wrong with Cal that a good woman wouldn’t cure.”
“Savannah would like you to ask Caroline to the party,” Laredo inserted. He wasn’t much of a talker, but when he did speak, he cut to the chase. No beating around the bush with Savannah’s husband.
“What? You want me to what?” Grady pretended his hearing was impaired and stuck his finger in his ear. He thought he was pretty comical.
Savannah didn’t. “Is there a problem with Caroline?” she demanded. Her eyes flashed with spirit and Grady could see it wasn’t going to be easy to mollify her.
“Nope.”
“You’d be fortunate if she accepted!”
“Of course I would,” he agreed with more than a touch of sarcasm.
“Grady!”
Chuckling, he held up his hands in surrender. “Caroline’s all right,” he said. “It’s just that we don’t see eye to eye about a lot of things. You know that, Savannah. I like her, don’t get me wrong, but I can’t see the two of us dating.”
“Because of Maggie?” Savannah asked.
“Not at all,” Grady assured her, knowing how close Savannah and the little girl were.
“Savannah thought it’d be a good idea if the four of us went to Ruth’s party together.” Again it was Laredo who spelled out Savannah’s intentions.
“Me and Caroline?” Grady burst out. He bent forward and slapped his hands on his knees in exaggerated hilarity. “Me and Caroline with you two?” Even more amusing. The lovebirds and him…with the postmistress. Yeah, good idea, all right. Great idea. He and Caroline could barely manage a civil word to each other. “You’ve got to be kidding. Tell me this is a joke.”
“Apparently not.” The cool voice came from the back door.
Grady’s blood turned cold. Caroline Daniels and Maggie stood just inside the kitchen, and a single glance told him she’d seen his whole performance, heard every derogatory word.