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“Mom, look!” Quint hurriedly unbuckled his seat belt and leaned over the back of the front seat to point. “Isn’t that Grampa?”
Cat stared at the tall, thick-chested man standing close to the building’s entrance, his dark hair shot with silver, a duffel bag sitting at his feet. She breathed in sharply in recognition.
“It’s him, Quint.” The emotion of the moment made her voice small and thin. She fumbled frantically with the clasp of her own seat belt. She barely gave Logan a chance to pull up to the curb before she was out the passenger door and running to greet him. Quint wasn’t far behind her. Logan took his time, content to observe the moment of reunion. The unbridled joy in the faces of his wife and son moved him, but he knew too many things that they didn’t for him to share in it.
Childlike, Cat threw herself into Chase’s arms and hugged him tight. “You’re alive. You’re really alive,” she murmured, reassured by his solidness. “I was so afraid it wasn’t true.”
Chase smoothed a big hand over her sleek black hair and tilted her head up. His dark gaze moved over her face and halted on the sheen of tears in her green eyes.
“I had forgotten how much you look like your mother.” There was a note of wonder in his voice.
Closing her eyes, Cat caught hold of his hand and pressed a kiss into his palm, a deeply felt joy and gratitude all mixing together to steal her voice. She felt the light touch of his hand on her shoulder and opened her eyes to again drink in the sight of his familiar craggy features.
“Logan told me about O’Rourke. I’m sorry, Cat.”
She nodded in response. The loss of her uncle was still too fresh. Culley had been a constant presence in her life for too many years, not always seen but always there, her own personal guardian angel. Cat doubted that many people understood just how much she would miss that so-called crazy old man.
“Hi, Grampa.” Quint’s quiet voice reminded her that this reunion wasn’t hers alone.
Cat turned in her father’s arms, letting a hand slide behind his back while she directed his attention to her son. Uncertain of how much memory he had recovered, she said, “I don’t know if you remember, but this is your grandson, Dad.”
A smile gentled his hard features. “Are you sure this is Quint? This young man is about an inch taller than the boy I remember.”
“I am not, Grampa.” Quint managed to smile at the half-teasing remark and gazed at the man with his heart in his eyes.
Chase crouched down to eye level. “Maybe not a full inch,” he revised his earlier opinion. “I’m glad about that. It means you aren’t too big to give me a hug.”
Quint was in his arms almost before he opened them. Chase had only a glimpse of the tears that sprang into Quint’s eyes before the boy buried his face in the crook of Chase’s neck, wrapping his arms fiercely around him.
“I missed you, Grampa.” His voice was choked to a throaty whisper.
The sun was nearing its zenith when Jessy returned to The Hometead for lunch. The twins barely gave her time to close the door before they planted themselves in front of her and assaulted her with questions.
“Where’s my grampa?” Trey demanded with an impatient scowl.
“You said he was coming home this morning,” Laura added in quick reminder.
“Yeah,” Trey echoed the thought. “Morning’s over. How come he’s not here?”
“He’s on his way. I promise,” Jessy assured them as the phone rang. Judy Niles answered it, her voice coming from the living room.
Laura sighed with great annoyance. “That’s what Gramma said, too.”
“How come it’s taking him so long?” Trey put his hands on his hips, adopting a challenging stance.
“Because your aunt Cat had to drive all the way to Miles City to pick him up, then drive all the way back again,” Jessy explained.
Trey’s dark eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Did Quint go with her?”
“Probably,” Jessy admitted and mentally braced herself for the uproar the news was sure to cause.
“How come he gets to see Grampa first?” Trey protested.
“That’s not fair.” Laura’s lower lip jutted out. “He’s our grampa, too.”
“I know.” She tried a change of subject. “What did Grandma fix for lunch today? Shall we go see?”
Trey wasn’t about to be steered into the dining room. “I don’t want lunch. I want my grampa.”
