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When I looked down at Jonah’s cherubic face, though, I knew my life was good. Yes, I’d suffered losses. So had Brad. But we had each other and our child.

We’d be okay.

Brad didn’t make it home for dinner. Belinda had prepared beef stew, one of his favorites. For a man who’d grown up with every privilege in life, Brad loved the simple things. Beef stew. A ride across the ranch on his horse. An afternoon rain shower. Picking a bouquet of wildflowers for me.

He hadn’t done the latter in a while. He hadn’t been home to do it.

It doesn’t matter, I told myself. Mazie’s greenhouse keeps us full of fresh blooms all the time.

But the wildflowers weren’t what mattered to me. The fact that Brad picked them for me was.

No reason to be unhappy, though. Not when I was nursing the most beautiful baby in the world.

Little Joe was three months old now and thriving. He was off the charts in height and weight. He was a Steel, all right.

Big and strong like his daddy.

I loved the feeling of nursing him. My nipples had long since healed from the chapped pain nursing had caused at the beginning. Now, as he tugged, I felt only the pure joy a mother can feel when she’s providing for her child.

Pure joy.

I strived to find the joy in every day—a promise I’d made to myself after my junior year of high school when I’d been hospitalized for anxiety and depression. I loved the sun, Mazie’s yellow tulips, animals of all kinds…but mostly I loved my baby. It was a new kind of love—something beautiful I’d never imagined before he was born.

I felt the most joy, of course, when Brad was here with me. Still, even though he was gone a lot of the time, I forced myself to find the joy in everything.

Every single thing.

Even the ominous note I’d gotten earlier.

Ominous note? What ominous note?

“Daphne?”

“Yeah?” I said to Mazie.

“Are you okay? You got kind of pale all of a sudden.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

Had I lost time again? Why had I been in Brad’s office?

No.

No, no, no.

I would not allow myself to lose time again. It had happened a few times at college, a few times since then, but recently, since Joe’s birth, I could account for every second.

Until now.

Why had I been in Brad’s office?

He hadn’t said it was off limits, but I’d never gone in there before unless he was there. I must have had some reason—some reason that escaped me now.

Jonah finished eating and nodded off to sleep. I put him down in the nursery and retraced my steps to Brad’s office.

I’d been standing by his desk when I heard Jonah’s cry. That was when I realized where I was. But why had I been there in the first place?

Mazie said the doorbell rang. Sounded sort of familiar. Had I been in the office when it rang?

Think, Daphne, think!

Why did I come in here?

I scanned his desk. Nothing of interest to me. Then I looked around the office. Same as it always was. Well-kept, with a few file folders scattered around. Had I come in to look at one of the files?

I perused them quickly. They all pertained to the ranch. That was Brad’s domain. I had no idea how to run a ranch, so I wouldn’t have been looking for any of that information.

I sighed.

If Brad were here, he’d hold me, kiss the top of my head, and tell me everything was fine. That he’d take care of us and there was no reason to worry.

I worried anyway.

Thank goodness I had a session with Dr. Pelletier tomorrow. Perhaps he could help me get to the bottom of this.

Chapter Five

Brad

“Hello, Brad.”

“Hello, Wendy.”

“It’s nice to see you.”

You too. The words didn’t come out, though. I couldn’t make them. Hell, I didn’t even try, to be honest. It wasn’t nice to see her. Not at all.

She looked good, though. She’d cut her medium-brown hair into a short style a la Dorothy Hamill. She wasn’t wearing any makeup, and her blue eyes sparkled.

No medication today. Pelletier had warned me of that. She was off her meds and ready to be released into the world.

I just wasn’t sure the world was ready for her.

She was wearing street clothes, which surprised me. Jeans and a navy T-shirt. I’d expected a hospital gown or sweats or something.

“How are you?” I asked.

“I’m good, Brad. I’m really good.”

Her tone seemed sincere, but I knew better than to take anything about Wendy at face value. “I’m glad to hear that.”

“I want you to know that I don’t hold a grudge against you. You know, for what you did.”

“What I did?”

“Yeah. You know, having me committed.”

“Your parents had you committed, Wendy. You pulled a gun on a guy. You’re lucky you weren’t arrested.”


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