around her. This particular one was used by Naomi in an attempt to make Kendall feel guilty or ashamed. Kendall already felt both, since she’d be missing time at home.
“Yes, sweet pea. I’m working late, but I’ll be home in time to read a chapter from our book.”
“I could get Daddy to read it.”
God, she felt guilty enough without letting Heath know she was working late on a Monday. Tuesdays and Thursdays were normally spent in the office. That was Heath’s night at the house. For some stupid reason, she didn’t want him to know that the late hours were extending to other days of the week.
“I’ll be home in time. Can you get MiMi?”
“Love you, bye-bye.”
Maybe it was superwoman syndrome or imposter syndrome or some other syndrome working mothers had come up with. Whatever it was could be added to the list of things she needed to face and talk about with Heath.
Not Jerry. Not her mother. And not any other friend or coworker.
It was time she admitted she couldn’t do everything.
Right after she proved that Public Exposure wasn’t what they claimed.
* * *
HEATH’S PHONE ALARM SOUNDED. Five minutes until his six o’clock phone call. He swiped open the book, getting it ready to read for Skylar Dawn.
“Barlow residence.”
Naomi. Not the cheerful voice of his daughter.
“Evening, Naomi. May I speak with Skylar Dawn?”
“I’m sorry, Heath. She’s taking her bath. She got exceptionally dirty this afternoon hopping around like a bunny.” Naomi described the playful act with disgust.
“Is Kendall available, or is she in with her?”
“She’s not here tonight.”
“And after Skylar Dawn’s done?”
“Returning your call is not my responsibility, Heath.”
“Gotcha. She’s being punished for getting dirty.” He waited, but Naomi didn’t respond. “At least tell her I called?”
Again there was silence.
If Heath hung up, it would be the only part of the conversation repeated to Kendall. He kept the line open, waiting until his mother-in-law responded. In fact, he put the call on speaker and looked at the book.
He heard splashing and singing in the background. Naomi had returned to the bathroom.
“I can’t stay on the phone any longer. It’s time to wash her hair.” She disconnected.
“I think Naomi Barlow is in contention for the monster-in-law of the year award,” Wade Hamilton stated without looking across the office at Heath.
“Mind your own business. Wait. That’s impossible for you, right?”
“I was commiserating with you, man. I know what that phone call means to you.”
“You’re as bad as an old meddling matchmaker. Admit it. You’re the one who assigned me to Kendall’s task force.” He swiveled in his chair to face Wade.
No one else was in the office. He could speak freely. He had intended not to mention the conflict-of-interest part of his assignment. His anger was actually at his mother-in-law and the phone call. He should shut up. Keep it to himself—his general policy about everything these days.
Too late now.
Wade took a few seconds to smile like a cat skimming a bucket of milk still under the cow. Then he rolled his pen between his palms, shrugging his shoulders slightly.
“I’m not sure if I should slug you or thank you.”
“Hey, I’m just looking out for my own self-interests here,” Wade said, spinning back to his computer screen. “I’m tired of hearing Slate complain about your bad habits.”
“I have a few stories I could tell.”
He held up his hand. “God, no. I have no reason to listen to more. Instead, is there anything I can help you with?”
“Thanks, but no. I’m running some facial recognitions and backgrounds. Why aren’t you going home?”
Wade shrugged again. “I have my own demons to chase.”
Demons? Heath recognized barriers. Several months ago Wade had been brutally beaten, cracking ribs and almost losing an eye. He would have lost his life if it hadn’t been for a woman named Therese Ortis warning another company Ranger, Jack MacKinnon.
All traces of the woman had vaporized. Was she the demon Wade chased? Too late to ask. The conversation was over.
It was a good time to step outside and call Kendall. He left a message when she didn’t answer, then texted her to call when she was home so he could talk with Skylar Dawn. The light pollution around here didn’t block every star in the sky. He perched against the tailgate and just looked out.
There would be rain in the next couple of days. The color around the moon had changed. His mother had taught him that. He should take his daughter for a visit. Soon. But the nine-hour drive to Southwest Texas was hard enough when two parents shared the responsibilities.
That had been the excuse, and his parents had accepted it. The last real trip they’d taken to Alpine had slowed them down further with the horse trailer to pick up Jupitar and Stardust almost a year ago. When had life gotten out of hand?
The day I walked out of my house.
Needing a pep talk, he dialed. “Hey, Mom. How’s everything going?”
“It’s much the same. The baseball team looks to do pretty good this year. But you didn’t call to catch up on Sul Ross.”
“I don’t mind hearing about it.” And he didn’t. Just listening to his mom’s voice gave him a sense of inner calm.
“Are you still living...?”
“At the Thompson ranch? Yes. And no, I haven’t really talked to Kendall. Skylar Dawn is growing and getting more amazing every day. She made new paintings for everyone. I’ll get it in the mail this weekend.”
“No rodeo? No busting heads?”
He rubbed his bruised ribs but knew his mother referred to Kendall’s mom. “That was this past weekend. Okay, maybe it happened a little tonight, too.”
“Uh-huh. You’re going to kill yourself and make that woman very happy.”
He was pretty sure he wouldn’t drop dead, but the pain was a constant reminder that he might not have too many rodeo days left. Maybe he should focus on more rides with Skylar Dawn instead.
“Mom. We’ve talked about this. I need the money.” Yeah, he did. And one crack about his mother-in-law was all either of them was allowed.
The extra work he did around the ranch still didn’t repay the Thompsons what boarding his two horses would cost. He was determined to make up the difference and not accept a free ride.
“We could help you out, but you won’t let us.”
“You already have three full-time jobs. A professor at the university, a wife and a nurse to Dad. You’re the one who needs to slow down. I should be sending money to you. Is he okay?”
“Dad is still the same. He’s giving everyone what for, doesn’t remember doing it, then does it again.” She laughed. “I wish we could come see you, but breaking his routine is really hard.”
“I know, Mom. I should be there.”
“Nonsense. You have a very important job, a family and a wonderful daughter. Concentrate on those precious