Driving along Duarte County Road with the Ford Escape tailing behind, Heatherlee noticed that the wind had blown off the rain, leaving the sky a dark blue. Already, there were signs of deep fall. The sycamores were golden. With winter rains, the late afternoon felt chilly. She cracked the window and heard loud bellowing from the ditches. Frogs jumped. When she turned into the long driveway, the Ford Escape sped past. No doubt Marc let the guard know he’d take over while she and the twins were with him. She caught sight of a new item on the front porch.
A white plastic igloo doghouse took up the far corner. If it weren’t for its shiny surface, it would have blended with the white stucco. She drove toward the shed and seeing that it had been cleaned out, drove in. The Caddy shuttered to a stop. With a bag over her shoulder, she passed Marc’s Dodge truck and saw an FBI labeled packet on the passenger seat. What was the nature of his work? She walked toward the side door and creaked through the gate.
Marc came through the screen door and took her bag. “You’ll have to see the puppies come to Galen and Annie. They call them with the whistles, and they come, every time.”
Wearing his whistle-necklace, Galen said, “Wanna see, Mommy?”
She was surprised that he was the first twin to speak. “Show me!”
“Mommy, watch!” Annie took Galen’s hand for a second, her signal for them to go down the steps. Their sweatshirts were soiled from puppy paws.
Annie had her whistle in her hand but didn’t blow.
The twins bounded across the lawn and went behind an old silver maple. The tree hid them well since its trunk was as wide as a washtub.
On the top porch step Marc put down a towel. “Front row seats, sit down.” The puppies frolicked with the kittens, and she wasn’t sure if their training would take effect. That didn’t matter; this was family fun, life’s most enduring treasure.
The twins must have blown their silent whistles because the puppies sped off. Sharp barks came from behind the tree before she heard giggling. Visible now, Galen hugged Fluffy, and Annie pet Spotty. Their tiny hands were gentle and their voices soft. “Good dog. Good dog.”
Her heart was full of pride. “I never thought puppies or preschoolers could accomplish this.” She walked over, squatted down, and hugged them. “They learned this from you, Marc.”
“I just helped. They’re smart dog trainers. Over time we’ll teach the puppies not to jump up.”
She smiled. “How will you do that?”
“The twins will raise a knee to protect their chests.” He bent over and demonstrated by pulling up Galen’s knee.” A puppy doesn’t like to land on a hard knee bone.”
“Like this?” Annie’s knee rose up, but she lost her balance and fell down. Spotty jumped on her.
“Not exactly, Anna Rose.” Marc grinned, “When the puppies get bigger, you won’t like them jumping on you.”
Galen said, “I want to show you the igloo, Mommy.” His voice was proud. He walked backwards and motioned them to follow.
The puppies scampered to the porch, and the kittens pounced in front of the shared igloo.
Annie said, “The kittens and puppies live together.”
Heatherlee said, “It’s a perfect set-up.”
Marc held open the front door. “The puppies and kittens will cuddle up in the igloo. Come in, and we’ll build a fire.”
“It’s cold enough.” She watched as the twins helped Marc lay a fire, starting with newspaper, kindling, and logs. Soon the fireplace glowed. “Hmm, the smell of burning wood.”
“There’s nothing like hickory and apple wood.” Marc headed toward the kitchen where he turned on heat under a pot of cider. “Can you drop in those cinnamon sticks, Honey?”
She found them on the counter and dropped them in the pot while the twins climbed into their youth chairs. “Wait a second while your hot cider cools.” She filled two cups, dropped in ice cubes, and set two cups in front of them.
Marc pushed them closer to the table. “Good work out there with the dogs, Sports.”
He grabbed a bottle of beer and handed it to Heatherlee.
“Keep it, thanks. I’ll have cider.” The more she knew him, the more attached she’d become.
His big hands held the beer, and he eyed her over his shoulder. “You should have seen their eyes when the puppies first started coming to them.” He winked at the twins.
“They blew their whistles?” She knew the twins were listening.
“They knew just what to do. Galen and Annie paid attention,” he said.
She glanced at the beaming twins. Marc was repeating his own childhood. Encouragement was second nature. Twisting off the cap of a longneck bottle of beer, he pulled on it and flicked the light on above the kitchen table. The table was set.
A box of taco shells sat beside a package of shredded cheddar for the lactose intolerant. Baked halibut mixed with taco sauce steamed on an electric warming tray. Shredded lettuce, tomatoes, sliced avocado, and black olives filled a divided tray.
Marc opened a container of sour cream and stuck in a spoon.
“I helped Daddy Marc,” Annie said.
Marc said, “Tell Mommy what you did, Annie.”
“Put the napkins around.”
Galen said, “I wiped chairs.”
Heatherlee said, “Wow. Galen, you’re talking a lot more. You have more things to talk about here.” She touched the oak back of one of the youth chairs. “These look hand tooled.”
Marc said, “They were in storage up in the barn. We scrubbed and hosed them down. Galen made them nice and dry.”
“Did they belong to you and your sister?”
“My mother was disappointed that Felicity didn’t want these for her kids.”
“They’re very sturdy. I like the large rectangular base with the ladder rails in front.”
“Terese D’Etcheverry’s husband made them.”
She smiled, but tears pricked the backs of her eyes. “Mr. D’Etcheverry was a carpenter.”
* * * *
“Galen and Annie had a perfect day.” Heatherlee placed her cell on his bedside table. “I’m expecting a call.” She slipped under the covers beside him, cuddled close, and looked at his face. “Your expression has a predator quality. You’re my wolf.”
Had she noticed his icy focus? “A wolf guards his pack. He has to be cunning.” He took her hand and pulled her close. She and the twins were in his house, his to protect. His visit with FBI operatives had forced him to focus with a single minded center. He was convinced that meting out the theft ring by becoming Yuri Baronov was the most efficient way to take down Mitvolsky. But he couldn’t tell her, and keeping it secret was making him sick.
Her hands were on his chest. “You’re damp.”
Love and guilt knotted up inside him. Would she hate him? “This is a dream, isn’t it?”
“I’m as real as you are. I like being in your bed. I plan to stay the night.” Heatherlee stared at him. “Hmm, firm jaw. And those black eyes.”
Pupils were known to expand when lying. He closed his eyes. Did she know? He heard her undress while she kissed his eyelids. His body ached for her, but at the same time uneasiness crept through him. Mitvolsky needed to be taken down. His throat tightened, and he opened his eyes.
Already nude, she pulled off his clothes. “Your throat is a bit husky. It makes you sexier than ever. You’re like a warrior about to do battle.”
“I’d die for you if I had to.” He pulled her in, rolled her on her stomach. He indulged himself in the view of her back, her soft, slim hips and long, long legs. He kissed the curve of her lower back and spread her legs. With his fingers he explored her inner depths. She turned her head to return his kisses. “I want it this way.” She raised herself on her elbows and knees.
For this request, he again would charter new territory. He managed to ease his way into her vagina from behind. Balancing with his right hand on the bed, he held her taut abdomen with the other. He liked the novelty, and his movement was fierce. But was he causing her discomfort? Apparently not, the way she looked at him, her green eyes urgent. He let the wild beast within him rage.
She reached her first breathless peak when his mouth burned fiery kisses down her neck. The thought of taking her hard and fast made him tremble with increased need. He yearned for the release that only she could give him. She urged him on by caressing the sensitive underside of his shaft. Stroking his erection, she moved onto her back and opened her legs. She moved his tip against her clitoris. He entered her and kissed her. His hands moved over her breasts, arousing him. With his lips, he teased her hardened nipples. She wrapped her arms around his waist and drew him close. She moved and urged him on. “You’re a wolf to be sure.”
They came together and climbed. His need for her exploded with an intensity that touched a chord deep in his heart. The love he had for her flowed through him and touched every part of his body. He loved her independence but at the moment hoped for understanding. His mind emptied of everything except her. Lingering fears were gone. All that mattered was that they were together. The twins, their precious treasures, slept soundly in the next room. “My Heatherlee.” Saying her name was like saying a prayer. He kissed her, long, slow and deep.
A little sigh escaped her lips, a purr of pleasure. She clung to him as he trailed feathery kisses along her throat and collarbone. He dipped lower to kiss her breasts.
The house smelled of wood smoke with the fire in the hearth nearly out. Next to him, she lay as fragile as a flower. Their peaceful moment was interrupted by the vibration of her cell on the table. She answered it and began speaking excitedly about wanting a model that came in red. She flipped it shut. “Marc, I just bought a new car, a red one. The mechanic at the Cadillac dealership knows someone at Hollywood cars. The Caddy will be in movies.”
“You’re giving up the big fins?” He was pleasantly surprised.
“I’ll have a new Caddy, the SRX Crossover in crystal red. I’ll make the trade before the women’s luncheon tomorrow.”
* * * *
“Love your homemade chicken soup.” Marc’s voice was a hoarse whisper. Leaning against his oak table, he took another sip. “There’s no law about having soup in the morning.”
“Nope, and I also made lentil.” Her other simmering soup, made fresh with lentils, spinach and light dashes of ground ginger, coriander, garam masala, turmeric, and cumin seemed to beckon him.
“I’d like to try it.”
“I think it’s done.” She ladled into a mug, squeezed lemon over it, and set it before him. “The twins will wake up hungry from their nap.” She’d leave momentarily for the luncheon and moved around the kitchen, tidying up, not wanting to get a smudge on her red satin blouse and tweed pencil-skirt.
He’d finished the first mug and was onto the second. He was having chills and hadn’t taken off his sheepskin jacket, tattered with years of use. “Both are warming me up, Honey.” His husky whisper of a voice and his smile, slightly crooked, made her wish she could stay.
“I’m sorry you’re not feeling well. Take a snooze while I’m gone.”
His muscular arms surrounded her from behind. “Have fun. Going with Tara?” He nibbled at her neck.
“No, Tara avoids social things like this. A few years back when bodies turned up on beaches, this town dumped blame on her. They seemed to think criminals and criminal attorneys were one and the same.” She’d felt for her then.
“I remember. Tara was the scapegoat until she solved the case and became the champion.” He took long-legged strides back to the table and then put two mugs in the sink.
“Being shunned by nearly everyone in Landings changed her.” She watched him wash dishes.
“Tara can be abrasive.” His big arms surrounded her again.
“Now, Marc. Don’t talk about my friend that way.”
He was back on her neck, kissing her until it tickled. “Tara’s a good person. But, she doesn’t have the deep-down sweetness of my honey.”
She turned and kissed him on the lips. “If I catch your cold, it’s going to be the most delicious cold I’ve ever had.” She wasn’t one to fret over cold germs that were everywhere. She squeezed his biceps. “I’ll be back soon to take care of you.” As she walked toward the side door through the living room, she noticed that the sketch above the fireplace was missing.
* * * *
There’s nothing like the scent of a new car. Heatherlee was enjoying her new ride and sorry that it ended in the church lot. Getting out, she admired its shimmering cherry red paint.
When she walked through the open doors of a banquet room, known as the hall, evidence of Christmas was everywhere. In holiday attire, women of all ages were seating themselves. The hall had been decorated with boughs of pine and red bows. Poinsettia plants for sale sat on each round table for six. She spotted Marietta and walked over.
“There you are, Heatherlee.” Marietta wore a grin that was infectious. “I’ve been watching the door for you.”
“You’re sweet, Marietta.” She gave Marc’s cousin’s wife a hug and then noticed her protruding uterus. She was thin everywhere else. Marietta is pregnant.
Marietta shoved short, dark brown waves behind her ear. “I talked to Roswell Wool. What a coincidence!”
“What coincidence?”
“I talked with the guy who writes their newsletter, Mike Corn. He was traveling to San Bernardino. Yesterday, he stopped by our ranch.”
“Did you show him your wool?”
Marietta, just beginning to show, pulled at her ill-filling poinsettia print dress. “Mike Corn said that his shearing contractors would have been impressed.”
Heatherlee asked, “Does that mean he offered to buy your wool?”
“He bought my entire bulk! Mike needed to fill orders from buyers. The spring wool season is about to begin. He gave me their December wool price.”
“Was that a good price?”
“Higher than I expected.” Marietta whispered in her ear. “I made over twenty thousand dollars.”
“I’m glad!” Heatherlee felt relieved. She didn’t usually give business advice that didn’t come from personal experience.
“Thank you for the tip,” she gushed. “Next time, I’ll have the Roswell shearing task force come out. They have all their own equipment. Mike said that I’ll still need to manage them.”
“His crew doesn’t come with a foreman?”
“No, and apparently they have a tendency to rush. I was impressed with Mike’s honesty. Having a trained crew will be convenient since I’m expecting. By shearing time, I’ll hit the six month mark.” Marietta turned to the side, this time showing off her abdomen.
“How thrilling, Marietta. This is number three, isn’t it?” She knew of Marietta and her husband’s teenage daughter and preschool son, Nick Junior.
Marietta nodded happily. “Heatherlee, walk with me through the silent auction section. I need to write down values for items that came in this morning. Help me?” She held up a red pen.
“Sure, let’s get to work.” Heatherlee followed her to the auction table that took up an entire wall. She picked up the first card that described the auction item and read it. “‘Stassi family donates a ski weekend at their Lake Arrowhead cottage, sleeps six.’ Give it a value of two hundred dollars.”
“Okay.” Marietta wrote the amount in red calligraphy with a flamboyant dollar sign.
Heatherlee passed by her own donation, a series of yoga classes in a gift package with a rolled mat, block, bolster, pranayama pillow, and straps. She’d already given it a value, under priced at a hundred dollars so that it would sell. It had, bought by Pilar Aroix.
“Over here,” Marietta said. “‘An Italian dinner for six, including hors d’oeuvres, entree, dessert, coffee and a three-liter bottle of Basque Opal Cabernet delivered to your door’. This donation’s from Pilar Aroix. What do you think, Heatherlee?”
What do I think? I think she’s gone back to her maiden name. She felt her eyes blink at the actual mention of Marc’s ex-wife. It took her a moment to respond. “Classy donation. Fifty dollars to start.”
In her flashy red scroll, Marietta entered a starting value of fifty dollars.
Glad they’d moved on, Heatherlee moved to see the sketch of the Pyrenees Mountains. Her heart sped up as she picked up the description and read, “‘Will be delivered to buyer. Donated by Anna Duarte.’”
Marietta frowned.
”Three hundred,” Heatherlee suggested.
She whispered. “No one will buy that monstrosity.” She crossed her arms and frowned.
“Put it down for three hundred.”
“That’s a lot of shekels for a white elephant.” Marietta wrote down a value of three hundred in red ink.
Heatherlee moved in, wrote in her bid at three hundred fifty, and signed her name. If the picture didn’t receive a bid, Anna would feel embarrassed.
“You’re going to be stuck with it.” Marietta was on the move. “Ah, look at this one. She read, ‘A night at the Balboa Bay Club in Newport Beach. Watch the sunset over Newport Bay from your own private Balboa Bay Club bay view room.’ I’m bidding on this one before I’m so big I can’t have any fun.”
“Go for it, Marietta. A hundred fifty dollars sounds about right.”
Marietta entered the value along with her bid and name. “A silent auction really brings out the gambler in me.”
Heatherlee saw a basket of new baby items, perfect for Marietta, and entered a bid. For Marc she bought four Angels baseball tickets, seats behind home plate. He could use them for a guy’s night out. She was drawn to the basket with a manual, How to Sail, with ten sailing lessons donated by Kitzie Piermont, valued at sixty dollars. Wanting it for herself, she wrote her name.
Marietta, waiting for her, nodded toward the center of the room. “Over there, two empty seats. Let’s put our purses on them before we go through the buffet.”
When they set down their bags, Heatherlee recognized Anna’s initials on a large clutch purse. She felt a stab of panic knowing she’d be sitting with her. But, Anna was the reason she was attending. She wouldn’t let her composure falter. Not for an instant.
The crowd had thickened. No wonder, she thought, the buffet was magnificent. The men’s group was setting up more tables.
She fell into the buffet line with Marietta and picked up gold plastic plates and plastic-ware wrapped with holiday napkins. Onto her plate she spooned a walnut, pear, and blue cheese salad, Mediterranean Lentil Salad, and served herself corn bread with apricot chutney. She passed on the sliced ham, fried chicken, and shrimp pasta Capri made with heavy cream.
Beverages were served at the end, and she filled a red plastic cup with iced tea.
Even though delectable, she skipped the entire dessert table piled with sweet potato pecan pie, apple cranberry crisp, chocolate toffee brownies, and ice cream.
A red carnation arrangement graced the white damask cloth on the buffet table. She took a moment to thank the hardworking women standing behind it and dropped a twenty into a gift wrapped box for donations. She caught up with Marietta. “Weren’t we going to decorate wreaths today?”
“We were, but there wasn’t enough physical space with the auction. Our Monday morning Bible study group will decorate them. They’ll be sold with the trees. Join us.”
“I was thinking about joining the Bible class.” Her trainer, Eva, had taken over every class but one.
They weaved through the crowd with their plates. At their table Anna huddled with Pilar. Refusing to feel awkward, Heatherlee smiled. “Hello, Anna and Pilar.”
They smiled back just as the room fell silent while someone led the group in a blessing. When the prayer was finished, the four women resumed talking.
Anna looked at Marietta and smiled warmly. “You’re expecting, I hear. I know Nick is three. How old is Jacqueline?”
Marietta beamed. “Almost fifteen.”
Pilar asked, “Will she help with the baby?”
Marietta answered, “Jacqueline is way too busy with school and her 4-H horse project.”
“Too bad for you.” Pilar adjusted her leopard print knit dress over her statuesque figure. She scanned the room, possibly disappointed that she was stuck at a table where conversation had centered on babies.
Anna said, “Just you wait, Marietta. I didn’t think my daughter, Felicity, would be interested. It turned out she was. She wanted to change little Marc’s pampers every fifteen minutes. Marcellus bought packing tape so that I could still use the dry ones.” Reminiscing brought a peaceful expression to her face.
Heatherlee laughed. “That was a practical solution.”
Pilar made no comment. Silence choked the air out of the room until Pilar said, “Heatherlee, I bought your series of ten classes. I want to keep what I’ve got going on back here.” Pilar gave her butt a pat and then poured a diet coke into an ice filled glass. “I’m engaged. I need to squeeze into a size twelve wedding gown.”
Anna’s eyes went wide for an instant.
Pilar’s voice rose high with annoyance. “My fiancé already has kids, thank goodness. The state of barrenness that some women complain about wraps me in a silken cocoon of euphoria.” She stuck her fork into salad.
Heatherlee sensed Pilar’s discomfort and wanted to put her at ease. “Life is short. We need to make choices. My best wishes to you with your upcoming marriage, Pilar.”
“Thank you.” Pilar pushed back her chair. “I’m going back for seconds.”
Anna asked, “Do you plan your pregnancies, Marietta?”
“It took more than planning. I’ve always had a tough time conceiving. I got help at Chang Fertility Center.”
Heatherlee said, “Dr. Chang is a miracle worker! For years, I was among the un-pregnant bashed.”
Marietta smiled. “I do remember sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with you at the clinic. You were a widow. I was about to give birth to Nick, and you were in your last trimester with twins.”
Heatherlee looked up when two latecomers of around Anna’s age joined their table. Both had olive complexions, and after brief introductions, she knew they were Basque. One of the women was Marietta’s neighbor, but the older of the two, Ilia Zubiate with bright red lipstick, was vaguely familiar. Heatherlee searched her mind while Ilia asked, “I heard you have a lovely new condo in Laguna Woods, Anna. Why aren’t you having the holiday barbeque there?”
Anna smiled. “We don’t have the space for a rack of lamb barbeque with the number of people involved. We use the entire front lawn at the ranch.” In a cheerful square of ceiling light, the four women were thicker than thieves, and Heatherlee felt a sting of nonexistence.
Ilia said, “I haven’t been to the ranch since we moved to Mission Viego. My husband hasn’t been well, but I plan to come. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen your children, Anna. I’m not sure I’d recognize them”
Marietta’s neighbor, Estelle Duarte, turned to Ilia. “Max and I can drive down and pick you up.”
“That’s not necessary. I’m fine driving up. Thank you for driving me here today.”
At the fringe of their conversation, Heatherlee felt sixteen again. Her chest tightened. She’d had a two-year crush on Marc Duarte Junior and then had married a man who looked like him. She felt satisfaction having come almost full circle with Marc. He’s given me no reason to feel resentful. She straightened herself with dignity. She wanted to make a connection with the women. As they continued talking, Heatherlee recalled that Ilia had been a friend of her foster mother, liked to make jewelry, and was one of the few people Yuri liked when they’d dated. Now Ilia’s hair was gray, and her bright eyes were hidden behind bifocals with an attached hearing aid. There was a slight lull, and she asked, “Ilia, do you still make jewelry?”
“Heatherlee,” she said, “so many years!” She adjusted the earpiece on her eyeglasses. “I didn’t actually catch your name before. Your dear husband, I was sorry to hear.” She put her hand on Heatherlee’s arm. “There’s a jewelry trade show on Monday. I’m going. You?”
“Sometime, Ilia, I’d love to go. I can’t make this one.” More chitchat led to an exchange of phone numbers before she made her exit. After paying and carrying out auction items, she headed to the parking lot. She looked for the Caddy and then remembered. She didn’t have it anymore. As she walked to her new car, she passed the Ford Escape. Coming close, she recognized Sergeant Ditzman, snoozing at the wheel with his window down. Another moonlighter, she thought. She proceeded toward her new car when she heard the squeaky fan belt. The pickup was moving forward. She walked back to speak with Ditzman. “Hello, Sergeant.”
He straightened up and yawned, “You caught me.”
“I won’t tell. Do you know who owns that two-door pickup?” She nodded toward the moving vehicle.
“It belongs to Max Duarte. He dropped off his wife and another woman. Probably went to the Red Beat for lunch. The church lot was packed when he came back. More parking spots are opening up now. Look at that, he’s closer to the entrance.” The sergeant liked to ramble.
She kept it to herself that the pickup seemed a bit ratty for a Basque, but Marc had said sheep ranchers were land rich and cash poor. Marc could pick up work as an accountant, forensic or otherwise. “In case you’re interested,” she said, “I’m taking a drive along the bluff. Thought I’d walk around a bit. There’s a park on that street if you feel like snoozing.”
“Yeah, I pulled an all-nighter.”
“There’s shade near the ball diamond.”
Moments later as she drove, she felt silly having tried way too hard to fit in with Marc’s relatives. Maybe I should dissect my relationship with him and my motives in particular. Did she love him or was he an icon to possess? When she reached the ball diamond and parked, she clasped a hand over her heart. I love him. I do want to connect with his family.
In her rearview mirror, she saw Ditzman pull under a live oak. Her cell vibrated, and she dug into her bag and answered the call from Sara, her realtor.
“Heatherlee, Clearwater has been sold.”
“That was fast.”
“Apparently, the investors had done their own snooping. They put five million down, and another ten if mortgage is pre-approved. Since you’d already signed, the deal is done. I’ve got the contract here. The problem we face is they want to take over immediately.”
“That’s fine with me. Sara, I’d like to look at the house for sale, the one on Cliff Avenue.”
“It’s a nice, leafy street. The owners have moved out. The five bedrooms look a bit trashed. They’d planned to get it repainted before the sign went up. It has a loggia and an ocean view. I’m not sure you’ll like it. It was built in the early eighties. It isn’t elegant like your rowhouse.”
“I’d like to see it.”
“I’ll meet you there.” Sara gave her directions, not knowing she was already on the street.
“Bring papers in case I make an offer.” The house was a block away, and she was glad she’d worn practical shoes. Out of her car, she took a moment to tell Ditzman that she was going to walk around. “Such a pretty day.”
Walking, she passed Mae and Tara’s homes. On the next block, she saw evidence of young families. Over fences she glanced at several jungle gyms. It’d be nice if Galen and Annie had playmates. The elementary and middle schools were within walking distance, conveniences for the future. She glanced at the neighborhood pool where a birthday party was taking place.
* * * *
A productive hour had passed with the owners’ acceptance. She’d met their asking price and having offered cash, would have possession the next day. When she returned to the ball diamond, Ditzman was sound asleep with his head tipped to the side. She touched his shoulder through the open window. “I’m going to sit in my car and make a couple calls. After that, I’ll head to the ranch.”
“Give me a beep when you’re ready to go.”
She made arrangements to have the interior of the home painted dried hydrangea with satin white trim. She left a message for Corky. “I have one of your deposit slips and will deposit a million into your account. Love you.”
She gave her horn a little beep and started driving. With her cell’s earpiece still in her ear, her vibrating phone grabbed her attention.
“Heatherlee.” Marc’s rasping voice sounded urgent. “My dad phoned me from the hospital. My mother fractured her ankle. The twins and I are in the truck driving to the Landings Medical Center.”
“Your poor mother. I’ll meet you at the emergency entrance and pick up the twins.”
“Good plan. I made you a set of keys for the ranch house. Drat, I forgot them.” The big man was in a dither again. “They’re on the kitchen table. I forgot to lock up but have my key.”
“You were distracted by your mother’s injury. I’ll take the twins back to the ranch for awhile. I’ll lock up when I leave.”
She had a plan. While the twins played with the puppies, she’d spruce up the ragged garden before the Duarte barbeque.