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Zak’s shoulder twitched.
“Well, I think he’s been hoping you would come,” Beth said. “And did you know that we have new kittens out in the hay barn? I’ve been hoping someone could help me tame them a little.”
As she watched Beth and Zak, Cassie’s expression softened. She lifted her gaze to meet Robert’s. “How are you, Dad?”
“Fine.”
“You’re never in the house this late. And you look tired.”
He gave an impatient gesture with a hand. “Your sisters and Beth made too much of that spell. I couldn’t be better.”
“I would have come home last night, but Jolie said you were stable.”
“I wouldn’t want you driving a hundred miles in that junker at night. There was no point in coming.”
“Dad, I...” Her voice trailed away. “I’m just glad you’re home.”
Zak slipped his hand in hers and whispered something.
“I guess we’re going to go check out those kittens and maybe the new calves, too.”
“Breakfast will be ready in fifteen minutes or so,” Beth called out as Cassie and Zak went out the door.
“Breakfast?” Cassie stopped in her tracks and glanced at her watch. “At nine? Now Iknowyou aren’t feeling as good as you say.”
Zak peered around her. The worry etched in that young boy’s face doused Robert’s heated reply. Did Zak worry that more people in his life were going to disappear?
“Just go on, you two,” Robert muttered.
Through the kitchen window he watched them cross the lawn and head for the barns. He’d known Cassie’s husband was no good from the minute he laid eyes on him, and he’d warned—no,demandedthat she quit seeing him.
But being Cassie, that had only driven her to marry the guy anyway.
Maybe it was my fault.
For the first time, Robert realized that maybe he’d been the one to blame for that marriage...and the sadness of the little boy who shadowed her. His thoughts drifted back to other times...
“Robert! Wake up, it’s time to eat.” Beth hovered close, shaking his shoulder gently. Her hand held the scent of fresh-cut oranges, and the aroma of good, strong coffee filled the air.
Feeling disoriented, he opened his eyes and had to concentrate to focus on the wall clock above the stove. Nine-thirty? “I wasn’t sleeping.”
“No, of course not.” A smile played at the corners of Beth’s mouth as she moved to the stove and started filling a plate. With her usual efficiency she set it in front of him, then slipped out of the room.
“Yes, you were,” Bobby said blandly.
Startled, Robert swiveled and found his son sprawled in a chair at the end of the table. His face was dark with stubble, his shirt buttoned halfway up. He’d pushed aside an untouched plate of bacon and eggs.
I was dozing at the table like an old man?Images of walkers and wheelchairs and flocks of white-coated doctors flashed through Robert’s thoughts. Powerlessness. Loss of control.
The all-too-familiar fear snaked into his heart...then took refuge in anger. “Where were you last night? You look like roadkill.”
“I’m almost nineteen. I don’t have to answer to you for every minute.” Bobby returned his glare, though he wasn’t pacing the room and gesturing as he usually did when riled, and his eyes had the glassy appearance of someone fighting either a bad headache or a big hangover. Probably the latter, young fool that he was.
“You’re on my ranch, under my roof, and I want to know!” Robert roared. He took little satisfaction in seeing Bobby wince at the noise.Hangover.
“Don’t worry,Dad.I was with—” his gaze slid away “—my friends, and there sure isn’t much going on in Garrett Bluff. I didn’t take my truck.”
Hecouldn’thave taken it, that much Robert knew.
