Edwasspecial, though it seemed now that Grandpa was gone, only Wade understood that. “You’re good at keepin’ other animals out and keepin’ your buddies in line, aren’t ya, Ed?”
Wade wondered what Trish would think of his making friends with a bull. Would she find it charming or ridiculous? He shook that thought away with a wipe of his forehead against his shirt sleeve. It shouldn’t matter what she thought. Once this little retreat Grams had cooked up ended, he’d never see Trish Meadows again.
Checking his watch, Wade knew he’d have to turn back soon. Besides, he was out of coffee. “I better get going, Ed, if I wanna keep Grams happy and make that horse-riding tour.”
The bull snorted at that.
“I couldn’t agree more.”
Wade foundTrish still passed out in the living room recliner, her laptop open and one hand still on the keyboard. “Good morning, Sunshine!”
Trish squeaked awake, frantically looking around and patting the chair. “Wh-what—”
“Did you sleep out here?”
Trish wiped sleep from her eyes. “I didn’t have an extension cord for upstairs.”
Taking a closer look, Wade had to wonder how old that monstrosity of a computer was. He was willing to bet the battery worked only minutes, if at all, without being plugged in. “Did you get this for a sweet sixteen present or something?”
Hugging her arms around its edges as if trying to protect it from his insults, she replied, “Maybe it’s not a brand-new model, but it works just fine.”
Wade sat on the thick arm of the chair and leaned back, amused by the screen. “Quite the enticing story. Is this some new age artist thing? Where you write an entire story with only one letter?”
She quickly closed it on her lap, as though she might have something to hide from him. “What time is it?”
“Seven forty-five.”
Trish pushed the recliner’s footrest down with her legs. “You’ve been up for a while, haven’t you?”
“Couple hours.”
Trish groaned as she tried to escape the chair. From experience, Wade knew it was like trying to escape a pile of soft, man-eating pillows. Add that brick of a computer in her lap, and she struggled. Trish narrowed her eyes. “Don’t strain yourself in helping.”
“It’s much too fun to watch.” Wade winked, then strolled off toward the kitchen. The last time their hands had grazed . . . He didn’t want to think about it. Best to keep a bubble of space between them just to be safe. “Hurry up and change. You have about ten minutes to get ready and grab a bite to eat.”
“Ready for what?”
Over his shoulder he asked, “How close did you read that itinerary Grams made?” When she only yawned, he reminded, “We’ve got a horseback riding tour of the ranch. Part of your VIP package.” He tried to hide his laugh at the groan that ensued.
Wade fixed himself a fresh Thermos of coffee and dug the paper sack marked ‘horseback riding lunch’ out of the fridge, ignoring the hearts Grams had drawn all over it. If he didn’t know better, he’d think Grams was sending them on a date.
“Good, you found the lunch,” Kate said with a yawn. “There’re drinks in the door, too.”
“Grams still asleep?”
“She’s in the shower. She’ll be out soon,” Kate reassured. “She put a breakfast casserole together last night for the writers. Has to go in the oven soon.”
He wanted to ask his sister if he thought Grams was doing okay with all of this commotion, but Trish was so close, still fighting the recliner. The ranch had been so quiet for so long. It was possible Grams was overwhelmed and hiding. He lost his chance to ask when Trish stepped into the kitchen. He stashed the heart-covered lunch sack behind him, out of Trish’s sight line. He didn’t want to try explaining that one.
“Hun, you won’t want to wear those shoes.” Kate rested one hand on her round belly and waved the other toward Trish’s feet.
“I don’t have any boots with me,” Trish admitted. Wade’s eyes were immediately drawn to her feet. Some kind of slip-on shoe with jewels thinly covering the narrow straps. “I was hoping to go into town and get a pair, though. Isn’t there some tour of the town included in all this?”
“Not until tomorrow. And they’re not cheap,” Kate warned. “A solid pair of boots will run you a couple hundred dollars.” When the color drained from Trish’s face, Kate asked, “What size do you wear?”
“Eight.”
“Perfect! I have some you can borrow.” She sighed. “I haven’t been able to get into those since the beginning of my second trimester.”
