own instincts. The two men had never become friends, and Peter had never warmed to him but acknowledged that he was worthy of respect. Jimmy was a smart, straightforward man from a simple background who had made a huge success of his ranch, without the benefit of Harvard Business School or the East Coast establishment Peter had grown up in. Whether one liked him or not, Peter gave him credit for what he had achieved. Peter always respected financial success.
It had taken his parents longer to warm up to Caroline, but they finally had and admired her steady success with her young adult books. Her publisher father-in-law was particularly impressed by them, once she won the Printz Award, and started making real money for them. Young adult books were very much in demand. Material success was important to Peter and his family, it was their yardstick of someone’s merits, and determined whether or not they liked people. Peter emphasized those same values to their children and Caroline didn’t agree. But it was how Peter had been brought up. And in spite of Peter’s materialistic views about money, he was a good and attentive father and loved his children. And he was attentive to Caroline too, although he wasn’t demonstrative or overly emotional around other people. He was warmer with her in private.
It was their third night at the ranch when Kate broached a delicate subject. They’d had dinner at her house, which Caroline and Gemma cooked, and the children had gone back to Caroline’s house to play videogames on their new TV. They were enjoying the freedom of being on the ranch, able to go wherever they wanted to. Kate had given them both bikes to ride, and Thad was proving to be an excellent babysitter, assigning them chores, and riding with them whenever possible, or taking them in his truck when he had some task to perform at the far reaches of the ranch.
“I was thinking we might take a ride down to Santa Barbara.” Kate opened the subject with caution, knowing it was a sensitive issue for Caroline, and for them all.
“Am I correct in assuming you don’t just have shopping in mind?” Gemma inquired, as she poured them all another round of wine. Kate had purposely waited until they’d had dinner, and at least a glass of wine, so they’d be more relaxed. She saw Caroline stiffen when she nodded. Their father had been dead for six weeks, and in some ways, it seemed like a long time, and in others, it felt as though his funeral had been yesterday. There were already noticeable changes in their reactions to the ranch, without his powerful presence. Neither of Kate’s sisters had ever been willing to spend a week there since they’d left. They never lasted more than a few days when their father was alive.
“I just think we should follow up on what we discovered. We can’t spend the rest of our lives knowing that our mother is alive, fifty miles away, and not finding out more about her, and why we never knew she was alive,” Kate said calmly.
“We never knew because our father obviously lied to us,” Gemma said bluntly. She was angry at him about it.
“I’d like to know why he lied. Maybe she’s some awful derelict and he was protecting us from her our entire lives. Maybe she’s a drug addict or a criminal of some kind. But if she is, I want to know,” Kate said. “I think we should know. Or at least I want to. I would have checked it out sooner, when we found out right after Dad died, but I wanted to wait for you two. It affects all three of us, it didn’t feel right to just rush into it without you.”
“God knows what she is. We may have her on our necks forever after this, trying to bilk us for money. That could be part of why he steered clear of her. Something big must have happened for her to give up custody, and relinquish her parental rights,” Gemma said, wondering.
“Maybe he forced her to do that,” Caroline said in a soft voice, having a lesser opinion of her father than either of her sisters. “But whoever she is, I don’t want to know her. She wasn’t here when it counted, and I don’t think we need the headache now of a brand-new mystery mother in our forties.”
“You’re only thirty-nine,” Gemma reminded her. “And according