“Shadow, fetch!”
The furry black mutt, about the size of a border collie and twice as smart, darted after the tennis ball. Mark Caldwell laughed as the dog raced back to drop the slobbery ball into his outstretched hand. “Good boy.”
Kneeling to give Shadow a thorough scratching behind the ears, Mark took in the early-November fall vistas of the Texas Hill Country northwest of Austin. Though no match for Mark’s home state of Montana, the scenery here at the quarter horse ranch his grandfather Arturo Navarro had established over sixty years ago claimed its own kind of rugged beauty. For Mark’s uncle Hank and twin cousins, Spencer and Samuel, the ranch was home, but until April, when Mark had flown in from Montana with his parents for his grandfather’s ninetieth birthday, he hadn’t visited more than a handful of times.
Now, only seven months later, here he was again, this time for his grandfather’s memorial service, held yesterday at the family’s church in Gabriel Bend. Mom and Dad had opted to fly again, but Mark disliked having to crowbar his brawny, long-legged frame into a cramped airline seat, so he’d left a few days ahead of his parents to drive down in his much roomier Chevy Silverado truck.
After the reading of the will this morning, Mark almost wished he’d stayed home, because Tito—short for the Spanish abuelito, “grandpa”—couldn’t have been thinking straight when he’d specified the terms for dividing his estate. As expected, Uncle Hank inherited half the ranch, and it had seemed only right that the other half would go to Mark’s mother, Alicia. Not that Mom had any interest in owning a share of the ranch, but she was certainly entitled to its value if Hank wanted to buy her out.
Instead, to everyone’s surprise, Tito had designated the other half to be equally divided three ways—a third each to Spencer and Samuel, and the remaining third to Mark, but with the stipulation that he must commit to living and working at the ranch for one year.
This was beyond absurd. What did he know about horses or ranching? Besides, his whole life was back in Missoula. His home, his construction company...
His memories.
He shifted his thoughts to Tito’s only bequest to Mark’s mother—a decrepit old cabin on one puny half acre at the southwest edge of the ranch near the river. Mom and Tito had never been close, but seriously?
Shadow yipped and pranced, begging him to toss the ball.
“Okay, okay.” Still preoccupied after hiking out for a look at the cabin, he gave the ball a hard throw.
A couple dozen yards ahead, the ball ricocheted off a rock in the lane and bounced over a wire mesh pasture fence. Shadow headed for a nearby gate and ducked beneath the bottom rail, then ran in circles looking to see where it had landed.
“Can’t find it, boy?” Mark jogged to the fence and scanned the area beyond. No sign of a grungy yellow tennis ball.
Continuing the search, the dog expanded his range to where a sprawling live oak supported a dilapidated old tree house. He halted abruptly, his attention captured by a tawny-haired boy, maybe nine or ten years old, crouched on the rotting boards.
A boy Mark suspected had no business exploring on Navarro land.
“Hey, kid.” He tried not to sound scary as he slipped through the gate and ambled over. “You live around here?”
“N-no. I was just, um...” With Shadow parked at the base of the tree, the boy didn’t look too certain about climbing down.
“It’s okay, he won’t hurt you. Shadow loves kids.” Or maybe it was Mark who intimidated the boy. Attempting to appear less threatening, he squatted next to Shadow.
Almost at once, the dog’s demeanor changed. A low whine emanated from Shadow’s throat. His front paws tapped the ground in a nervous rhythm, his gaze fixed on the boy. As his whining grew increasingly urgent, the kid began trembling. A second later, he toppled from the ledge.
On pure instinct, Mark lunged to break the boy’s fall, catching him in time to keep his head from slamming into the hard ground. This was no tree-climbing accident—the kid was in the throes of a seizure. Not that Mark was any expert, but he knew enough to roll the boy onto his side and make sure he couldn’t hurt himself on anything. Quiet now, Shadow lay close in the protective posture he’d always displayed with Kellie.
The memory—and the latent grief it churned up—caught Mark off guard. Three years now, and he still hadn’t gotten over losing his daughter. He choked down a swallow and focused his attention on the boy.
The episode was mild and short-lived, and after several minutes of recovery, the kid opened his eyes. “Where—what—” He groaned.
“You had a seizure. Are you feeling okay?”
The boy gave a wobbly nod. “Aw, Mom’s gonna be so mad at me.”
“I’m sure she’ll be glad you’re all right. Has this happened before?”
“Yeah, sometimes. I take medicine, but it doesn’t always work.”
“Wow, that’s rough.” Mark slid an arm under the boy’s shoulder. “Can you sit up?”
He blinked a few times, looking dazed, then flinched when he noticed Shadow next to him.
“Don’t be scared. He’s been watching over you till you felt better. What’s your name?”
“Davey.”
“Hi, Davey. That’s my dad’s name, too. Well, actually, David.” Hopefully his chatter would help put the boy at ease. “This is my dog, Shadow. I’m Mark.”
Sitting up slowly, Davey tentatively patted Shadow on the head. “Nice doggy.”
“So where is your mom?” Mark pulled his cell phone from his jeans pocket. “Give me her number and I’ll call her for you.”
“No, please, she’ll just worry.” Davey scrambled to his feet, then wavered.
“As well she should.” Mark pushed up from the ground and steadied the boy. “Look, you’re not a hundred percent yet. Let me drive you home. My truck’s—”
“That’s okay. Mom’s right next door.”
“Right next...” Scrunching a brow, he looked across the pastures. “At the McClement ranch?”
“Yeah, she works there. With Aunt Jo-Jo and Aunt Lindsey.”
Mark’s cousins’ wives. The three best friends ran River Bend Events and Wedding Chapel on the ranch owned by Lindsey and her aunt, Audra Forrester. Mark couldn’t recall meeting Davey’s mother, but he must have, since she’d handled the catering for his grandfather’s big birthday bash last spring. That had been an evening to remember in more ways than one—barely more so than today’s reading of the will.
“Well, we’d better get you over there. Your mom needs to know about the seizure.” And be reminded not to let a kid with a serious disorder like this go wandering across a working horse ranch. “Want to ride in my truck, or do you feel up to walking?”
“I can walk. I know a shortcut.” Looking nervous and not at all steady on his feet, Davey backed away. “And you don’t have to go with me. I’m fine now. Promise.”
Mark got the sense the kid was less afraid of being escorted home by a stranger than of how his mother would react to learning he’d had a seizure—or possibly where he’d had the seizure. “You’re still pretty shaky. I’d feel a lot better if I go along to be sure you make it okay. Now, where’s this shortcut?”
Giving a huff, Davey grudgingly led him down the lane. Past the main barn, they crossed a paddock behind a smaller barn and came out at an opening in the barbed-wire fence that separated the Navarro and McClement properties. Hidden by twisted cedars and brushy undergrowth, a section of barbed wire had been propped open with old tree branches. Mark vaguely remembered it from his rare childhood visits to the ranch.
The kid scooted through the gap, then looked back as if hoping Mark wouldn’t follow. It would be a tight squeeze, but he didn’t intend to let Davey out of his sight until the boy was safely back in his mother’s care.
In the meantime, Shadow hopped through and scampered over, blocking Davey from a quick getaway. Good—Mark and Shadow were on the same page here. He ducked low, hoping not to snag his jacket or jeans. With a grunt, he straightened on the other side and followed a slump-shouldered Davey across the field.
Mark’s cousin Spencer, the Navarro twin who’d married Lindsey McClement, was just exiting the barn, where he stabled the rescue horses he fostered. “Hey, Mark.” He cast him a concerned smile. “You doing okay?”
Obviously a reference to the terms of the will. “A lot to take in.” He gently but firmly clamped his hand on the boy’s shoulder in case he got any ideas about escaping. “Is Davey’s mom around?”
“They’re all in the study discussing what to do about the new event venue building. They just got word their contractor had a family emergency and has to back out.” Spencer walked with them to the back porch. “Why are you with Davey? Is there a problem?”
“Best if I just talk to his mom.”
With a muttered uh-oh, Spencer led Mark and Davey to the study, where the three women were huddled around construction drawings spread across a worktable. Under different circumstances, Mark, a building contractor himself, would have liked a closer look at the plans.
Instead, he took a moment to identify which of the women was Davey’s mother. Of course he knew Spencer’s wife, the dark-haired Lindsey. Joella, the sophisticated blonde, had married Samuel, Spencer’s twin, last summer.
The third woman, a little shorter than the other two, had to be the kid’s mom. She looked up with a start, her shoulder-length brown waves falling across one eye in a way that made Mark’s stomach flutter.
He abruptly tamped down the sensation. This was no time to go soft.
She did look familiar, now that he thought about it. What was her name—Molly? Sally? Something like that.
“Davey?” She shoved a strand of hair behind her ear as her gaze shifted to Mark, and then to the dog at his side. “What’s going on?”
Mark nudged the boy. “Are you going to tell your mother, or should I?”
“Tell me what? And I’ll thank you to take your hands off my son.” Rising, she grabbed Davey’s arm and tugged him out of Mark’s reach.
Spencer edged between them. “Holly, you remember my cousin Mark Caldwell from Montana?”
Holly—right. She looked about as prickly as the shrub of the same name, and the spark in her flashing green eyes could light a forest fire. “Of course,” she said with a dismissive wave. “I—I’m sorry about the loss of your grandfather.”
“Thank you.” Neither her sympathy nor her attractiveness would deflect him from his purpose. “Can I talk to you privately, please?”
Her brows shot up. “Why? Did Davey do something?”
“Mo-om.” The boy exhaled tiredly as he sank into a chair. The poor kid looked wrung out. “I had a seizure. It’s no big deal.”
“What?” She gripped his upper arms and bent forward until they were eye to eye. “Davey, are you okay? When did it happen? Where did it happen?”
“Stop, Mom.” The boy’s face reddened. Arms locked across his chest, he shrugged off her hold. “I’m not a baby.”
So the kid had an independent streak. Even more reason for his mother to keep a closer eye on him. “I found him in one of my uncle’s pastures,” Mark stated. “He was climbing around in a rotting tree house.”
“Oh, Davey.” Eyes closed, Holly pressed her lips together and took three slow breaths through her nose. Opening her eyes, she frowned at Mark. “Perhaps we should speak privately.” To Lindsey, she said, “Can Davey rest in your room for a while?”
“Sure. Come with me, fella.” Lindsey escorted the boy down the hall.
Mark and Holly followed but detoured into the living room. Only after she halted and faced him did he realize Shadow had continued on with Davey and Lindsey. Interesting...
Arms folded, the boy’s mom tapped her index fingers on the opposite elbows. “So. What exactly happened?”
“Like I said, I found him in one of my uncle’s pastures. Rather, my dog found him.” He described catching Davey as he fell from the tree house. “He shouldn’t have been out there by himself. If there’d been horses in the pasture—or if Shadow and I hadn’t happened on him when we did—things could have turned out a lot worse.”
Something verging on panic flashed behind those incredible green eyes before they darkened like storm clouds. “Are you implying I’m a neglectful parent?”
“I’m not implying anything, Mrs....”
“Elliot,” she supplied, her voice rising. “And it certainly sounds like you are, so why don’t you come right out and say it?”
“Fine. I think it’s irresponsible of you to let a kid with a seizure disorder go roaming alone where it isn’t safe.”
“So I’m neglectful and irresponsible?”
“I didn’t mean—”
Jaw trembling, she motioned toward the front door. “Goodbye, Mr. Caldwell. Thank you for walking Davey back, but you needn’t concern yourself any further with my son’s well-being.”
“Fine by me.” This encounter had gotten way out of hand. Probably his fault for speaking his mind, but she needed to hear it. He took three steps toward the door, then remembered Shadow. “My dog—”
Holly glanced around. “Oh. I—I think he must be in the bedroom with Davey.”
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to fetch him and be on my way.” And the sooner, the better.
Shaken by a disconcerting mix of fear, relief and indignation, Holly showed the imposing dark-haired man down the hall so he could get his pet—who didn’t appear nearly as anxious to leave as his owner. The shaggy black dog rested his chin on the mattress while Davey sleepily stroked his head.
A shuddering sigh sounded from Mark’s chest. Glancing up, she glimpsed a subtle change in his expression. He almost looked...sad. “Shadow,” he called roughly, “let’s go.”
Patting his thigh, he uttered the quiet command twice more before the dog obeyed. Holly wasn’t sure if dogs could actually roll their eyes in annoyance, but it seemed like Shadow did exactly that as he trudged after Mark down the hall.
The dog might be endearing and certainly seemed to have bonded with Davey, but rugged good looks aside, Mark Caldwell was another story. How dare the man accuse her of neglect? He must have no idea how hard it was to be the parent of a child with health issues, or the fine line she walked between protecting Davey and giving him the freedom to be a normal, active little boy.
Still, if she’d had any idea her son had gone exploring on the Navarro ranch—how many times had she warned him to stay close to the house and not to play near the livestock? The McClement cattle ranch held enticements galore for a boy Davey’s age. Add Navarro Quarter Horses right next door, and it meant twice the opportunities for getting into dangerous situations.
The thump of boots and click of dog toenails faded as Mark exited through the kitchen. After another deep breath, Holly rejoined her friends in the study.
Joella looked up with concern. “How’s Davey?”
“He’s resting. Thanks for getting him settled, Lindsey.” Suddenly exhausted herself, Holly collapsed into a chair at the worktable. “Okay, where were we?”
“Without a contractor.” Joella massaged her temples. “We could sue for breach of contract—Samuel and I are in the same boat, since Jay Graham was building our house. Or we can just be gracious about it and let him go.”
Lips pursed, Lindsey nodded. “I think that’s our only choice. Jay’s a respected member of the community. He’s only trying to take care of his family.”
“I agree.” Holly drummed her fingers on the unfurled building specs. Incredible that after only a few months in business, River Bend Events and Wedding Chapel was doing well enough to qualify for a loan and permits to erect a permanent structure. The climate-controlled building would enable them to host events all year long, even in inclement weather. As funds permitted, they planned to gradually increase their inventory of equipment and furnishings, offsetting the expense by what they’d save in rental fees.
Except now all those plans were on hold. Shoulders caving, Holly asked, “So what do we do next?”
After a sip of coffee, Joella perused a page in her notebook. “Jay recommended a couple of other local contractors who might be able to take over. What it comes down to is their availability.”
Holly pictured the foundation sitting untouched for weeks or possibly months. “Well, we’d better start making calls...”
“I wish we could ask Mark,” Lindsey murmured. “Spencer says he’s a top-notch building contractor. If nothing else, maybe he could give us some advice.”
“Good idea—we should ask.” Joella gnawed her lower lip as she stared into her coffee mug. “It sure would be nice if he decided to stay.”
Holly looked at her in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“Arturo’s will.” Lindsey described how the estate had been divided, including what would be required of Mark to inherit his third of the grandsons’ share. “He definitely has some serious thinking to do.”
Holly’s jaw dropped. “Is he considering staying at the ranch?”
“Samuel’s gut feeling is no,” Joella said. “Mark’s hoping to meet with the attorney on Monday to discuss his options.”
Davey appeared in the doorway. “I wish I had a dog like his.”
Twisting in her chair, Holly reached out to him. “Honey, you’re supposed to be resting.”
“I know, but I heard you talking.” The boy stumbled closer and leaned into his mom. “Are you mad at Mark?”
Avoiding the question, she pulled him onto her lap. For now, at least, her ten-year-old son occasionally tolerated a motherly show of affection, especially as the aftereffects of a seizure drained his reserves. “It isn’t Mark I should be upset with,” she said with mock severity. “You should never have been playing over there.”
Davey picked at a frayed thread where his jeans were wearing through the knees. “I like Shadow. It was like he could tell I was going to have a seizure.”
A chill raced up her spine. “Really? How?”
“I don’t know. He just sort of...knew. And then he stayed right beside me the whole time till Mark had to take him home.”
Holly had read about service animals for people with epilepsy and had considered applying to get a dog for Davey when he was old enough to qualify. But the cost was far beyond her reach as a single mom, and waiting lists for a low-cost or free animal might take years.
“Samuel told me Shadow was Kellie’s service dog,” Joella said. “He’s the smartest dog I’ve ever seen. And so gentle. Sophie’s crawling now, and last night when Mark and Shadow came up to the apartment, Shadow wouldn’t let Sophie past the edge of her floor quilt.”
Sophie was Samuel’s baby from a previous relationship, but Joella loved her like her own.
Holly furrowed her brow. “Who’s Kellie?”
“Mark’s daughter,” Lindsey explained. “She died of a heart condition a few years ago.”
Her heart ached for the man. “That’s awful.” It also explained the sadness in Mark’s eyes earlier. Seeing Shadow watching over Davey the way the dog had surely done with his daughter must have evoked all kinds of painful memories.
Davey’s mouth stretched wide in a gaping yawn, and his head sank against Holly’s shoulder. She nudged him to his feet. “Let’s get you back in bed, sweet boy. You need a nice, long nap.”
If it wasn’t the weekend, she’d be on the phone with Davey’s doctor asking whether it was time to review his meds. She’d call her Monday for sure.
She also hoped for an opportunity to offer Mark Caldwell the apology she owed him—if he’d even speak to her after she’d practically thrown him out.
Tucking Davey back in bed, she pondered taking him straight home. Between losing their building contractor and worrying about her son, she felt on the verge of a breakdown—one she could ill afford with not only Davey but her two best friends from high school counting on her.
Get hold of yourself, Holly. Quietly closing the bedroom door, she whispered the words of her late grandmother’s favorite psalm: This is the day which the Lord hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it.
“We should enjoy every day,” Gran used to say, “because we never know what tomorrow will bring.”
You were so right, Gran. Being a widow and single mom struggling to make ends meet had certainly never been part of Holly’s plan. She and Blaine were supposed to raise their family and grow old together in their cozy two-story Colonial in Waxahachie, until a fatal car accident on icy roads ended those dreams.
It was Blaine who had encouraged her to dream again. After too many aching disappointments, including losing her beloved grandmother to cancer, she’d decided it was better living in the present and accepting each day as it came.
Then Blaine had walked into her life. He’d approached the serving table at the wedding reception her employer was catering and asked her which entrée she recommended.
“You should definitely try the beef stroganoff,” she’d answered with a smile.
“And why is that?”
Her reply might have sounded a teensy bit smug. “Because it’s my recipe.”
He’d taken one bite, and his eyes rolled back in his head. “Wow.” He leaned closer, his warm gaze curling Holly’s toes. “Will you marry me?”
Not six months later, she’d done exactly that.
Then, four years ago, a knock at her front door had ripped open her heart and turned her whole world upside down. If Davey hadn’t survived the accident, she’d have had nothing left to live for.
Last spring, the opportunity to join Lindsey and Holly to run River Bend Events had seemed like a dream come true. Without Blaine, the house in Waxahachie was just that—a house. Moving to Gabriel Bend would give both her and Davey a new start.
And maybe...someday...she’d have the means to follow the one dream that had lingered since childhood—opening her own ladies’ tearoom, like the one Gran used to take her to every year on her birthday.
Shoulders heaving, she brushed a stray tear from her cheek. With Davey napping, she might as well help her friends find a new contractor.
When she passed the kitchen doorway, Audra had just come inside. “There’s a little black dog scratching and whining to get in the house. I could barely squeeze past him. Any idea who he belongs to?”
“It must be Mark Caldwell’s dog.” Holly detoured through the kitchen and peered out the glass in the back door. What on earth was the little guy doing over here again?
Then she glimpsed Mark striding across the backyard. Dragging stiff fingers through his thick brown hair, he looked none too happy about having to chase down his wayward pet. She was about to duck out of sight when Mark stepped onto the porch and their gazes met through the glass. Too late to pretend she hadn’t seen him. She should go out there right now and clear the air between them.
Great. She would be looking out the window just now. Mark sighed. All he wanted was to leash his dog and go. He had enough on his mind without another confrontation with a beautiful mom wearing a major chip on her shoulder.
Beautiful? He’d better nip those notions in the bud pronto.
He bent to seize Shadow’s collar, but the dog skittered out of reach. “Boy, don’t do this to me.”
The door opened. When Holly stepped out, quickly pulling the door closed behind her, Shadow plopped down at her feet, an expectant expression in his ebony eyes.
She glanced at the dog, then arched a brow as she looked up at Mark. “I see you lost your dog again. It doesn’t seem very responsible of you to let him go roaming by himself.”
“Touché.” Guess he deserved having his words thrown back in his face, even though she’d delivered them with more kindness than he had. “What I said earlier—I had no right.”
“But you weren’t wrong. I should have been paying more attention to where Davey was playing.” She inhaled softly, arms crossed over her abdomen. “I truly am grateful you and your dog were there.”
“Me, too.” He really needed to stop letting those soulful green eyes of hers affect him like they did. “Is Davey doing better?”
“He’s napping. He’s usually very tired after a seizure.”
“How often does this happen...if you don’t mind me asking?”
“His last one was a few months ago. He may need his meds adjusted. I’ll be calling his doctor first thing Monday.”
“That’s a good idea.” Mark shuffled his feet. “I should, ah...”
Holly knelt to pet Shadow, who hadn’t budged. “Hey, fella, did you come all the way over here to check on Davey? When he wakes up, I’ll tell him you came by.” One hand on Shadow’s collar, she reached toward Mark and whispered, “Hand me the leash.”
Seconds later, she’d secured Shadow and returned the leash to him.
“Thanks.” If only Shadow would come peacefully now and Mark wouldn’t have to drag him off the porch. “Sorry we bothered you. In Shadow’s case, dogged determination—no pun intended—seems to go right along with massive intelligence.”
“He’s obviously a very special animal.” Despite her brief smile, regret dimmed Holly’s expression. “I’d give anything if Davey could have a service dog.”
“Have you looked into getting one?” What was he doing, asking personal questions like this? And why did he care? Once he headed back to Montana in a couple of days—which at this point he fully intended—he’d probably never see Holly Elliot or her son again.
What were you thinking, Tito? You barely knew me, so how could you imagine I’d want any part of your horse ranch?
Holly had turned away slightly. Her shoulders heaved in another quiet sigh that whipped his attention back to the present. “Being a single mom, trying to make a decent living for us, I can’t take on the expense of an ordinary pet, let alone apply for a service dog. And with Davey just wanting to be a normal kid—it’s hard.”
Mark swallowed. Kellie had just wanted to be a normal kid, too. “Is his dad in the picture? Maybe he could—”
“My husband’s dead.”
You walked right into that one, Caldwell. “Sorry, I didn’t know.”
“No reason you should.” She hiked her chin. “Davey and I have been on our own for the last four years. I’m doing the best I can, but...” Her lower lip trembled.
Wonderful. She was about to cry, and Mark couldn’t handle a woman’s tears just now. Giving Shadow’s leash a tug, he backed toward the porch steps. “Davey’s a good kid. I’m sure you’re doing fine. So, ah, I’ll be going—”
“Wait.” Sniffling, she used her knuckles to blot away the wetness gathering at the bridge of her nose. “I... I’d like to apologize for misjudging you. I didn’t think you could possibly understand my situation, until...” She cast him a sad smile, continuing softly, “Lindsey told me you lost your daughter. I’m so very sorry.”
“Yeah, thanks.” Now he really needed to get out of here. He gave the leash another quick pull. “Let’s go, boy.”
She drew a quick breath. “Unless you’re in a hurry, I—I mean we—were just talking about you and—”
Sure they were. After how he’d lit into Holly earlier, he wouldn’t even guess what they’d been saying.
“And we wondered if you’d give us some advice about our building project.”
Not what he expected. At all. The way she was looking at him with those kryptonite eyes, half hopeful, half scared, made it hard to think straight. “Wh-what did you want to know?”
“Maybe you could come inside for a few minutes?” She motioned behind her toward the door.
Don’t do it, Caldwell. This is asking for way more involvement than you need.
“Okay, sure.” He followed her through the kitchen. She took a left in the hallway, but Shadow tugged the leash to the right, toward the room where Davey must still be resting. “Not now, boy.” To Holly, he said, “I take it this is about losing your building contractor?”
“Oh, you heard. He left us in a terrible bind.” Holly showed Mark back into the study. Lindsey and Joella, seated at a worktable, both looked up with surprised smiles.
“Since Mark is here,” Holly said, “I thought we could ask him our questions.”
“Great!” Lindsey motioned toward one of the chairs. “Thanks, Mark.”
He offered a polite nod. “Not sure how I can help, but ask away.”
Though his cousins’ wives did most of the talking, he found his gaze continually drifting toward Holly, who’d taken a chair across from him. He still felt like a heel for coming on so strong with her.
“We just don’t want to start over from square one,” Lindsey was saying.
“No, of course not.” Mark drew a hand across his mouth and hoped his inattentiveness wasn’t too obvious. “You’d want to hire someone you can bring up to speed pretty quickly. Someone who isn’t bogged down with other commitments.” He knew he’d kick himself later, but he asked anyway. “Maybe I could take a look at your specs?”
“Would you?” Lindsey sat forward. “That would be awesome!”
Joella stood. “I need to get home, but Lindsey and Holly can show you the plans.”
Lindsey glanced at her watch. “Wow, it’s later than I thought. I’m supposed to be helping Audra and Spencer with the livestock. Holly, would you mind?”
“Me? Um...okay.” Her eyes widened in a deer-in-the-headlights look.
Mark knew a setup when he saw one. “I’ll be around for a couple more days. We can try this again when everyone’s available.”
“No, please,” Lindsey said as she followed Joella out. “We need to decide something pretty quick. Holly can fill you in. See y’all later!”
The sudden silence echoed. Swallowing, Mark turned to Holly. “So. The specs?”
This trip to Texas was definitely not going according to plan.
Copyright © 2022 by Myra Johnson