Clara Anne jumped and spun around, clutching her heart. Her high stack of black hair teetered a bit. “Sadie Jo! You scared me to death, girl.”

Sadie smiled and her heart got all warm as she moved into the room. “Sorry.” The twins had helped raise her and she held out her arms. “It’s good to see you.”

The housekeeper hugged her tight against her huge bosom and kissed her cheek. The warmth around her heart spread across her chest. “It’s been a coon’s age.”

Sadie laughed. The twins were holdouts when it came to high hair and clichéd old sayings. And if Sadie were to mention to Clara Anne that some people might consider that old expression a little racist these days, the housekeeper would be shocked because there wasn’t a racist cell in Clara Anne’s body. Once, as a kid, she’d smart-mouthed Clara Anne and asked exactly how long a coon’s age was. The housekeeper had looked her straight in the eye and answered seriously, “Six to eight years. That’s how long a raccoon lives in the wild.” Who knew there’d actually been an answer?

“It hasn’t quite been a raccoon’s age.”

“Close.” She leaned back and looked into Sadie’s face. “Lordy, you look just like your mama.”

Without the poise and charm and everything that made people just naturally love her. “I have Daddy’s eyes.”

“Yep. Blue as Texas bluebells.” She ran her rough hands up Sadie’s arms. “We’ve missed you around here.”

“I missed you, too.” Which was true. She missed Clara Anne and Carolynn. She missed their warm hugs and the touch of their lips on her cheek. Obviously she didn’t miss it enough to move back. She dropped her hands to her sides. “Where’s Daddy?”

“In the cookhouse eating with the boys. Are you hungry?”

“Starving.” Of course he was eating with the ranch hands. That’s where he’d usually eaten because it made sense. “Did he remember that I was coming?”

“Sure he remembered.” The housekeeper reached for a stack of towels. “He wouldn’t forget a thing like you coming home.”

Sadie wasn’t so sure. He’d forgotten her high school graduation. Or rather, he had been too busy vaccinating cattle. The care of animals had always taken precedence over the care of people. Business came first, and Sadie had accepted that long ago. “How’s his mood?”

Clara Anne looked at her over the stack of towels in her arms. They both knew why she asked. “Good, now go find your daddy, and we’ll catch up tomorrow. I want to hear all about what you’ve been doin’ with yourself.”

“Over lunch. Maybe Carolynn will make us her chicken salad on croissants.” It wasn’t something the cook made for the ranch hands. They tended to like more hearty sandwiches for lunch, like thick slices of meat on heavy bread. But Carolynn used to make chicken salad especially for Sadie’s mother and later for Sadie.

“I’ll tell her you mentioned it. Although I think she’s already planned on it.”

“Yum.” Sadie took one last look at Clara Anne, then walked back into the kitchen and outside. She moved down the same concrete path she’d walked along thousands of times. Most meals were eaten in the cookhouse and the closer she got to the long cinder-block and stucco building, the more she smelled barbecue and baked bread. Her stomach growled as she stepped onto the long wooden porch. The hinges on the screen door announced her arrival, and a few of the ranch hands looked up from their plates. Roughly eight cowboy hats hung on hooks by the front door. The room looked exactly as it had the last time she’d stepped inside. Pine floor, whitewashed walls, red and white gingham curtains, and the same duo of Frigidaire refrigerators. The only thing different was the shiny new stove and oven.

She recognized a few of the men’s faces as they rose to their feet. She motioned for them to remain seated and then her gaze found her father, his head bent over his plate, wearing the same classic Western work shirts he always wore. Today it was beige with white pearl snaps. Her stomach got tight and she held her breath a little. She didn’t know quite what to expect. She was thirty-three and still so unsure around her father. Would he be warm or unavailable?

“Hi, Daddy.”

He looked up and gave her a tired smile that didn’t quite work its way to the wrinkles at the corners of his blue eyes. “There you are, Sadie Jo.” He placed his hands on the table and rose, and it seemed to take him longer than normal. Her heart fell to her tight stomach as she moved toward him. Her father had always been a thin man. Tall. Long-limbed and high-waisted, but he’d never been gaunt. His cheeks were sunken and he looked like he’d aged about ten years since she’d seen him in Denver three years ago. “I expected you about an hour ago.”

“I gave someone a ride into town,” she said as she wrapped her arms around his waist. He smelled the same. Like Lifebuoy and dust and the clean Texas air. He lifted one gnarled hand and patted her back. Twice. It was always twice, except on special occasions when she’d done something to garner three pats.

“You hungry, Sadie girl?”

“Starving.”

“Grab a plate and sit down.”

She dropped her arms and looked up into his face as a selfish fear settled on her shoulders like a thousand-pound weight. Her daddy was getting older. Looking every bit of his seventy-eight years. What was she going to do when he was gone? What about the JH? “You’ve lost weight.”

He returned to his seat and picked up his fork. “Maybe a pound or two.”

More like twenty.

She moved to the stove across the room and dished herself rice and grabbed a piece of freshly baked bread. Other than raising a few sheep and Herefords for 4–H years ago, Sadie didn’t know a lot about the day-to-day running of a cattle ranch. And in the pit of her traitorous soul, down deep where she kept dark secrets, was the fact that she had no interest in knowing, either. That particular Hollowell love of the land had totally skipped her. She’d rather live in town. Any town. Even Lovett: population ten thousand.

The screened back door slammed against the frame as Carolynn Parton stepped into the cookhouse. She squealed and threw her hands in the air, and except for the prairie skirt and ruffled blouse, she looked just like her sister. “Sadie Jo!” Sadie set her plate on the chipped counter a second before she was smashed against Carolynn’s big, soft bosom.

“Lord, girl, it’s been a coon’s age.”

Sadie smiled as Carolynn kissed her cheek. “Not quite.”

After a few moments of chitchat, Carolynn took Sadie’s plate and loaded it with ribs. She poured a glass of sweet tea and followed Sadie across the room to the table. A few of the cowboys left, and she took a chair next to her father.

“I’ll catch up with you tomorrow,” Carolynn told Sadie as she set the tea on the table. Then she turned her attention to Clive. “Eat,” she ordered, then walked back across the room.

Clive took a bite of cornbread. “What are your plans while you’re here?”

“I have the rehearsal dinner tomorrow night and the wedding is at six on Saturday.” She took a bite of Carolynn’s Spanish rice and sighed. The warm comfort of the familiar settled in her stomach along with the rice. “I’m free all day tomorrow. We should do something fun while I’m here.” She thought about what she and her father had done together in the past. She took another bite and had to think hard. “Maybe shoot traps or ride over to Little Tail and shoot the breeze with Snooks.” She used to love to shoot traps with her daddy and ride the trail to Snooks. Not that she had that often. Usually if she nagged him, he’d make one of the hands take her.

“Snooks is in Denver looking over some stock for me.” He took a long drink from his sweet tea. “I’m leaving tomorrow for Laredo.”

She wasn’t even surprised. “What’s in Laredo?”

“I’m taking Maribell down there to breed with a Tobiano stud named Diamond Dan.”

Work came first. Come rain or shine, holiday or homecoming. She understood that. She’d been raised to understand, but . . . the JH employed a lot of people. A lot of people who were perfectly capable of dropping off a mare to be bred in Laredo. Or why not just have some of Diamond Dan’s semen shipped overnight? But Sadie knew the answer to the question. Her daddy was old and stubborn and wanted to oversee everything himself, that’s why. He had to see the live coverage with his own eyes to make sure he was getting the stud he paid for.

“Will you make it back for the wedding?” She didn’t have to ask if he’d been invited. He was family, even if he wasn’t a blood relation, and even if her mama’s people really didn’t care for him.

He shook his head. “I’ll be back too late.” He didn’t bother to look heartbroken. “Snooks should be home Sunday. We can ride over then.”

“I have to leave Sunday morning.” She picked up a rib. “I have a closing Monday.” Renee could probably handle the closing just fine, but Sadie liked to be there just in case something unexpected came up. She paused with the rib in front of her face and looked into her daddy’s tired blue eyes. He was just a few years shy of eighty. He might not be around in another five years. “I can move appointments around and leave Tuesday.”

He picked up his tea, and she realized she was holding her breath. Waiting like always. Waiting for him to show her a sign, a word or touch . . . anything, anything at all that he cared what she did. “No need to do that,” he said, and took a drink. Then in typical Hollowell fashion, he changed the subject away from anything that might touch on important. “How was your drive?”

“Great.” She took a bite and chewed. Small talk. They were good at small talk. She swallowed past the lump in her throat. She suddenly wasn’t very hungry and set her rib on the plate. “There’s a black truck on the side of the road,” she said, and wiped her fingers on a napkin.