“You don’t like that one?” Raney fought a smile as she walked with him to the den. “I was thinking to have Alejandro loan you his matching belt buckle, too.”
He started to say something, but was interrupted by Timmy shouting, “Dalton! You came back!”
Seeing his brother charging toward him across the crowded den seemed to fluster Dalton, but he recovered quickly, accepting Timmy’s boisterous bear hug with a tolerant smile. “Hey, buddy, what you been up to?”
As the other people in the room went back to chatting, Raney watched the brothers, impressed by Dalton’s patience and his obvious love for Timmy. There was an element of protectiveness there, too. She recognized it, had felt it directed at her earlier, when he’d asked why she needed a gun. Maybe because of his size and military training, Dalton felt he had to watch out for everybody. Or maybe it was that protective instinct that sent him into the army in the first place. A complicated guy, Dalton Cardwell. And not nearly the hard-ass she’d thought him to be.
Timmy pulled out of the hug with a hurt look. “Why did you leave, Dalton? You said you would work with me.”
“I know I did, buddy. I’m sorry. But I had to come here to work instead.”
“Here?” Timmy looked around the opulent room, his eyes round with wonder. “You work here?”
“In the barn out back. I’m training horses.”
“Horses.” Timmy’s face fell again. “Our horses went away. Dad says they won’t ever come back.”
Raney could see that Timmy was getting worked up, but his mother arrived in time to head him off. “Timmy, did you see the buffalo head mounted in the other room? Come, I’ll show you.”
“Yeah. Okay. Just the head? Where did the rest of it go?”
With an apologetic smile to Raney, Mrs. Cardwell led Timmy to Daddy’s office—the one room in the house Mama hadn’t redecorated at least twice.
Beside her, Dalton let out a deep breath and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “This might not be such a good idea.”
“Bringing Timmy? He’ll be fine.”
“He might break something.”
“It’s just stuff, Dalton. Around here, stuff is like Doritos. We always get more.”
As it happened, Timmy didn’t break anything. In her usual efficient way, Mama replaced his china plate and crystal goblet with a plastic Superman set she kept on hand for visiting ranch children.
His parents were relieved. Timmy was thrilled and mentioned several times—five or six, at least—that Superman was his favorite. Raney was filled with pride, and mentally added Hostess Extraordinaire to Mama’s list of remarkable traits.
This time, there was actual conversation as they ate. Mostly about weather, cattle prices, and how spring practice was going for the various college football teams, mostly Texas Tech. Hicks was even moved to nod once in answer to a direct question from Mr. Cardwell.
When the meal ended, since the day was mild and sunny, Mama sent an invitation to the workers’ quarters inviting everyone, especially the children, for ice cream and cookies and games on the veranda and back lawn. She loved children, and her rowdy, impromptu gatherings were some of Raney’s fondest childhood memories. As soon as Mama brought out her gigantic box of toys, the children crowded around, the younger ones pulling out trucks and dolls, the older ones challenging their parents to a soccer match. Timmy thought it was great fun and one time even connected with the ball, which took them fifteen minutes to track down by the creek.
By late afternoon, Hicks had awakened from his nap in one of the patio chairs and had made his escape with Alejandro. The parents began rounding up their kids and putting toys back in the box, while the elder Cardwells said their good-byes and herded Timmy toward their car with the new kitty Mama had insisted he take. One down, five to go.
Only Dalton stayed behind.
Raney offered him another beer. His second. She’d counted. Mama often warned her girls, “You watch how a man drinks and you’ll see the future ahead.” It looked like Dalton Cardwell wasn’t destined to be a big drinker.
He accepted the beer, knocked back half of it in a single breath, then sighed and plopped down into the chair Hicks had kept warm for him. “That went better than I expected.”
“It was fun.” Raney topped off her wineglass and took the chair across from him. “Mama’s gatherings always are.”
“She’s a hell of a lady.”
“That she is. But please don’t tell her. It’ll only egg her on.” She studied him as she sipped from her glass. “What had you worried? Timmy?”
When he didn’t answer, she went on. “He’s a sweet guy. And was very gentle with the children. They loved having him play with them.”
“Kids instinctively know. They don’t judge.” He took another swig, then idly scraped at the label with his thumbnail. “But he’s getting too big to play with little kids. He could hurt one and never know. It’s best that he goes to the group home in Plainview and learns how to fit in with other people like him. People with learning disabilities. He’d be better off there.”
He didn’t sound convinced. Raney wondered whom he was trying to persuade. Then a piece of the puzzle that was Dalton Cardwell fell into place. “You feel like you’re letting him down, don’t you? That you should do something—keep him close so you can watch out for him.”
He looked over at her but didn’t say anything.
His silence made her want to fill it. “You shouldn’t. I felt that way when Daddy died.” It surprised her to hear the words spoken aloud. She’d never admitted those feelings to anyone. But once started, she couldn’t seem to stop.
“I was in the truck when he had his heart attack. We
