might have had some tough times financially along the way?”
She paused at the foot of the stairs and turned to him. “I wouldn’t be surprised. Why?”
“They might have made use of social services there. I know a retired social worker. Maybe she’d remember something, or could ask around.”
“That’s a great idea. I didn’t think of that, but it gives me another avenue. Thanks!”
“She lives not too far from Sheridan at a place called Thunder Mountain Ranch. I—” He caught himself right before he screwed up. He’d been about to announce that he’d made a couple of saddles for Rosie and Herb, but his profession wasn’t supposed to be common knowledge yet. “The Padgetts are good people. He’s a retired equine vet. For years they also took in foster boys, but they don’t do that anymore. Anyway, Rosie knows a lot of people in town. She might have information.”
The tension eased from her eyes and she smiled. “I’d run out of ideas, so I’m thrilled to have a new lead. My family always wondered what became of Cade, especially my grandpa.”
“The harmonica player.”
“Yes. Losing touch with Aunt Heather and Cade made him sad. And of course Heather’s my dad’s sister. I think he’s resigned to the idea that she doesn’t want to hang around with the Gallagher family anymore, but he’s told me that he wonders where she is. When I started working on this family tree project, tracking them down was one of my goals, especially because my dad still thinks about them.”
“Then I wish you luck with it. Now that I know what names to listen for, I’ll pay more attention once I get back home. Maybe I’ll stumble across somebody who’s heard of them.”
“Excellent! I’ll give you my phone number in case you find anything. You’ll be my man in Sheridan.”
He couldn’t help grinning. “Okay.”
Her cheeks turned that wonderful shade of pink again. “That didn’t come out quite right.”
“It came out fine as far as I’m concerned.”
Her blush deepened. “Um, well...I didn’t mean to imply that I considered you my...” Then she groaned. “I’m going to stop now before I make this worse than it already is. Sarah’s going to wonder what the heck we’re standing here yakking about. Let’s go get us some drinks.”
“Works for me.” Still smiling, he walked beside her into the living room. She was not a flirt by any stretch, and yet she was clearly interested in him. Earlier he’d wondered what to do about his attraction to her. He might not have to do a damned thing except wait and let nature take its course.
The ranch’s beautiful setting wouldn’t hurt, either. The living room looked like a scene out of a Christmas card, with pine boughs and ribbons everywhere, plus candles on the mantel. Flames danced in the big stone fireplace, and a ten-foot Scotch pine in the corner glittered with lights, ornaments and garlands.
Sarah and Pete both got up from their leather armchairs. Through Ben’s cursory internet research, he’d discovered that Sarah’s first husband, Jonathan, had died several years ago and she’d since married Pete Beckett. Pete was tall, like Sarah, and lanky, with gray hair and gentle blue eyes. He was a philanthropist who’d dreamed up the Last Chance’s summer program for disadvantaged kids. He had the relaxed air of someone who’d found his place in the world. Ben wondered if that time would ever come for him.
Sarah put down her wineglass. “I thought I heard you two out in the hall.”
As Sarah made the introductions, Ben stepped forward and shook hands with Pete, who’d been one of the biggest contributors to the saddle fund. “It’s a pleasure.”
Obviously Pete wasn’t about to give anything away at the zero hour. “I admire your can-do spirit.” He raised his glass in Ben’s direction. “I’m not sure I’d drive all the way from Sheridan to look at horses in this weather.”
“I’m used to the weather and I had some free time. Jack promised I wouldn’t be in the way.” Ben had been prepared to like the guy, and Pete’s casual friendliness didn’t disappoint him.
“Heck, no,” Pete said. “Always room for one more at a party. Right, Sarah?”
“Absolutely. The more the merrier. It isn’t every day a girl turns seventy.”
Pete gasped and placed a hand over his heart. “You’re that old?”
“Stuff a sock in it, Peter.” Sarah laughed. “I’m still younger than you. Now, please get Ben something to drink while I pour Molly a glass of wine. I already know that’s what she wants.”
“Yes, I sure do. That’s a terrific red wine. I’m stocking up on some when I get home.”
Pete turned to Ben. “What can I get for you?”
“Jack and I each had a bottle of dark beer this afternoon. Can’t remember the brand. I wouldn’t mind another one of those if you have it.”
Pete set his glass on a coaster. “Let’s mosey down to the kitchen and find out if there’s a cold one in the fridge. If Jack likes it, we probably have a supply.” Once they were in the hallway and out of earshot, Pete lowered his voice. “I had a chance to talk to Jack and he raved about the saddle.”
“Good. I’m glad he’s happy.”
“I want to see it, but I haven’t come up with a good excuse to go out to the tractor barn without making Sarah suspicious.”
“Nick and Gabe have looked at it, and they seem satisfied.”
“Damn. My curiosity is killing me. I wish everybody who chipped in could be here tomorrow for the big reveal, but several couldn’t come for both her birthday and Christmas. So they asked her when she’d rather have them arrive, and she picked Christmas.”
“So, who won’t be coming tomorrow?”
“Jack’s two half-brothers, Wyatt and Rafe Locke and their wives will wait and come for Christmas. I’m pretty sure their mother Diana also will be here then. She’s Jack’s mother, too, of course, but it’s hard for me to think of her that way.”
“Hang on. Sarah isn’t Jack’s biological mother?”
“No. She adopted him after she married Jonathan. I don’t blame Jack for procrastinating on that family tree project of Molly’s. His part is complicated. His biological mother, Diana, divorced his dad when Jack was a toddler. She left Jack here, ran off to San Francisco and married this guy Locke. They had twin boys, Rafe and Wyatt.”
“That must have been tough on Jack.”
“Yeah. Having his mom leave was bad enough, but he didn’t know she’d had two more kids until Wyatt showed up here one day, a couple of years ago.” Pete led Ben through the large dining room and into the kitchen, Mary Lou Sims’s domain.
Ben had met her earlier when he and Jack had come into the kitchen looking for beer.
Mary Lou closed a door on the double oven and turned, her fly-away gray hair curling in the moist heat. “Hi, guys. Let me guess. Ben wants another beer like the one he had before.”
“That’s right,” Pete said. “We got any more?”
“You know we do.” Mary Lou crossed to the commercial-sized refrigerator. “Jack sees to it.” She took out a bottle. “Want a glass, Ben?”
“No, thanks. The bottle’s fine.”
Mary Lou twisted off the cap and smiled as she handed the bottle to him. “I’ve been hearing great things about that saddle. Everybody says it’s gorgeous.”
Pete rolled his eyes. “And everybody needs to quit talking about it. Sure as the world, Sarah’s going to overhear one of those conversations and figure out what’s