“Playtime,” Maren told Haven. The dog visibly relaxed and sat back on her haunches.
Laughing, Maren rose just as Dottie returned. “Colt, go check on your father.” She gestured to the man at the grill and said to Maren, “That’s Joe.”
He was a barrel-chested man with a full head of white hair and an impressive mustache. He had on a plaid shirt underneath a black apron as he flipped burgers, hot dogs and steaks on the barbecue.
Dottie tucked her arm around Maren’s. “Let me introduce you around.”
For the next fifteen minutes, Maren was taken on a whirlwind tour through the party, being introduced to Colt’s two brothers and their wives and the extended family, a couple of cousins, aunts and uncles, and friends.
Finally, Colt arrived at her side. “Mom, Maren and I would like a moment to decompress. Any chance you made strawberry lemonade?”
His mother scoffed. “Of course I made a strawberry lemonade.” She winked at Maren. “My specialty.”
Colt drew Maren off to the side to a quiet corner where they sank onto Adirondack chairs. Haven stayed at Maren’s side, while Rusk ran around weaving in and out of all the children playing on the spacious lawn.
“Are all of your family gatherings like this?” she asked him. Her head was spinning with all the names.
“Only the special ones. And holidays, and most Sundays,” he said with a grin. “My parents love to host. That’s why they bought this spread when they married.”
Taking in the grazing horses and the Rocky Mountains in the distance, she marveled at the stunning view and the peace of the land. “How many acres?”
“A hundred in total,” he told her.
She didn’t know much about ranching, having always lived within the bubble of the city, but that seemed like a decent amount of land. “You learned to ride at a young age?”
“I did,” he said. “Do you ride?”
“I rode a pony at a fair once,” she admitted. “Not quite the same.”
His chuckle sounded deep and pleased and reverberated through his chest. She liked the sound of it. She liked this relaxed version of him.
Yet, she couldn’t settle the anxiety lurking at the edges of her mind. What was happening with her sister? Was she safe? What about Mia?
“Is it weird that I feel guilty enjoying myself?” she asked quietly. “Knowing my sister and Mia are out there, pregnant and scared?”
Colt reached across the chair to take her hand. “Not strange at all. But don’t let the guilt or worry eat you. At the moment, the situation is out of our control. We have to trust God has them. We’ll find them both. I promise.”
She tilted her head. “You can’t make that promise. No one can. Sometimes evil wins.”
He sucked in a breath. “Unfortunately, that’s true. But I refuse to give up hope.” He rubbed his chin as if working something out in his head. His eyes took on a contemplative sheen. “Partnering with you the past couple of days has made me realize that even if bad things happen, or bad people happen, like Rebecca, not everything or everyone in life will be bad. Does that make sense?”
“It does,” she said. “But I haven’t figured out how to know the difference.”
His expression cleared and he squeezed her hand. “I think that’s where our faith comes in.”
Her heart rate ticked up. There was so much about this man she admired, respected and liked. He was humble yet strong and determined. He was willing to adjust his course and his thought process as new information was introduced to him. Being here at his family’s home made her want to belong.
Alarm bells clanged in her head. She was becoming emotionally entangled with her partner. A recipe that could end in disaster.
* * *
The twins ran over, stopping in front of Maren as she sat chatting with Dottie on the back patio of the Dawson ranch a little while later. “Uncle Colt said you’re a twin.”
Maren’s gaze jumped to where Colt was talking with the twins’ mother.
Focusing back on the two girls, she kept her emotions in check to admit, “I am a twin.”
“Are you older?” Fiona asked. She pointed a thumb at her own chest. “I’m older.”
