“Morning,” Roy said as he entered the kitchen.
“Morning,” Delaney replied.
“You studying somethin’?” he asked, helping himself to a cup of coffee.
Delaney covered her papers. “Nothing important. Have you heard from Conner? How’s his grandfather doing since the surgery?”
“I talked to him last night. Clive’s doing good.” He shook his head. “He’s a tough customer.”
“When’s Conner coming home?”
Roy considered her over the rim of his coffee cup, and she realized she’d sounded a bit too eager.
“I don’t know. Is someone missing him?”
She went back to the griddle to scoop the pancakes onto a plate and to pour another batch. “I was just curious.”
“Yup,” he said, and flashed one of his rare smiles that told her he saw right through her.
“Josh Hill called for him early this morning,” she said, suddenly eager to change the subject.
Roy instantly sobered. “He did? What’d he say?”
“Just wanted to talk to Conner. He said he had another number he’d try.”
Roy didn’t answer.
“Did you hear me?” she asked.
He nodded. “Yeah, I heard.”
CONNER WAITED until the nurse had finished checking his grandfather’s blood pressure before slipping around her to take the seat he used every visit.
“How’re you doing today, Grandpa?” he asked, as she returned the blood pressure cuff to its rack on the wall, patted Clive’s arm and left the sterile white room.
Clive nodded. Propped up in bed, he still looked paler than usual, but more like himself than he had since the surgery.
“A little better. You?”
“Good.”
“You still heading back to the ranch today?”
“I am.” Conner glanced up as Vivian entered the room, carrying a bunch of fresh flowers she’d no doubt cut from the garden at the Napa house. Her perfume and the fragrance of the flowers instantly overcame the slight antiseptic odor that generally predominated in the hospital. “Hi, Mom.”
She cleared a spot on the rolling table between the window and Clive’s bed and placed her arrangement next to several other bouquets he’d received over the past few days. “Hi, Con. Why didn’t you wake me this morning? I would’ve ridden over with you.”
Conner had been up since before dawn, using the Napa house’s library as a makeshift office to talk on the phone with Josh and Mike Hill, take notes, make plans. The Hill brothers were definitely interested in his idea and sounded as though they were going to get behind him. But that meant his work had just begun. He still had to draw up a partnership agreement, create a proposal for investors, construct an offer to buy the ranch and find a general contractor who was familiar with this type of project and capable of handling its scope—all details that were difficult to control from afar. Now that his grandfather was on the mend, he needed to get home.
Home? He chuckled at his own thoughts. Only a few months ago, he’d considered Idaho no better than Siberia. Now he was calling it home. How that had happened he wasn’t quite sure, but as he pictured the snow-capped mountains, the quaint town with its diner, small-time grocery store and single high school, and imagined the crisp, clean air, he felt more eager than ever to get back.
“I wanted to let you sleep,” he told his mother. “You’ve been so worried about Grandpa, I figured you could use the extra rest.”
“But this is your last day. And I’m feeling fine.”
As long as his grandfather was doing well, Conner knew his mother would be okay, too. She loved and admired the man who’d adopted her, almost to the point of hero-worship.
Bending, Vivian kissed her father on the cheek and greeted her son in the same way before taking the only other seat in the room. “Hasn’t it been great to have Conner home, Dad?” she said, crossing her legs at the ankle as elegantly as she did everything else. “I hate that he’s leaving.”
Conner had actually enjoyed his visit. Before leaving for Dundee, he’d purposely spent very little time with his family, but this stay had been different. He’d spent many hours at the hospital, of course, but even when he wasn’t here, he was content to visit with his mother, help her with grocery shopping, meals or other household activities.
“It has been good,” Clive said. “He seems to have grown up. The ranch has made a man out of him, just like I knew it would.”
“The ranch has made a man out of who?” Stephen asked, surprising them all with his sudden appearance. He’d visited the hospital a few times over the past week, but he generally claimed to be too busy. His preoccupation with business was definitely reminiscent of the hours Clive had always kept. But as far as Conner was concerned, the similarities between father and son ended there.
“We’re talking about Conner,” Vivian said. “He’s done so well in Dundee, don’t you think?”
Stephen laughed outright, even though Clive was in the room, which gave Conner his first indication that something was different. “Conner?” he scoffed. “Come on. He’s a lost cause. When are you two going to give up on him?”
His grandfather’s brows puckered. “I don’t appreciate you trying to start trouble when—”
“When what?” Stephen interrupted. “When he’s snowed you into believing he’s actually cleaning up his act?”
“You’ve never liked him,” his mother said. “You’ve always done everything in your power to make him look bad.”
“Mom, I don’t need you to stand up for me,” Conner said.
“I haven’t had to do anything to make him look bad,” Stephen continued. “He takes care of that all on his own. I just talked to Dave Small, who’s on the Dundee city council—”
“Called you, did he, Stephen?” Conner interrupted, knowing perfectly well that Stephen had been rooting around and checking up on him in the hope of turning the tide against Conner. But Stephen was already too involved in his tattling to acknowledge his words.
“He had a few things to say about the new and improved Conner,” he went on.
“What does Dave Small have to do with Conner or the ranch or anything else?” his grandfather asked.
“He doesn’t have anything to do with the ranch,” Stephen said. “But he knows plenty about the scandal Conner’s caused.”