with his brother, Joseph Anderson, trying to marry all their kids off. If so, it had worked, as all of the kids were now married with kids of their own. Spence would certainly have to make sure this longtime friend wasn’t putting ideas into his own father’s head.
Trust still didn’t come easily for Spence, not after so many years in the foster-care system, and not after the hell his college “sweetheart” had put him through. He had decided that he was far better off keeping his relationships about one thing, and one thing only.
Sex. And plenty of it.
When the silence stretched on, Spence shook off his thoughts and turned toward his father. “Where do you need me?”
The boys spent the next several hours setting up tables, chairs, and a dance floor in the huge barn. When they were finally finished, they had time only to shower and dress before the masses descended. After all the hard work, it was a good thing the four of them kept extra clothes at their dad’s colossal house.
One of the perks of living in Sterling was knowing the neighbors, plus the fact that crime was low. Of course, when they were kids, that had been a disadvantage. They hadn’t been able to get away with anything because people were always watching—and talking.
Now it was nice. He was a better doctor when visiting here because he knew his patients well. As he wandered back toward the house, for some reason the woman he’d met earlier in the week popped into his head again. He should know who she was, that was for sure, but maybe she’d recently moved to town. That would explain not knowing her.
But her attitude didn’t make sense. She’d been crabby—downright rude, actually—so why was he even thinking about her? There were plenty of women who were more than willing to give him their attention, so why in the world would he think twice about the car crash victim? Maybe because she was a mystery?
There was just something about her . . .
Before he could dwell on it any further, Camden bumped into him. “What are you so dreamy about?” his brother asked with a sly smile.
“I’m not dreamy,” Spence said, feeling like an idiot for getting caught zoning out.
“I think it’s about a girl. It’s always about a girl.”
“You’re partially right. I was thinking you look like a girl,” Spence said before punching his brother in the arm and heading downstairs.
“Yeah, right back at ya,” Camden yelled, but Spence had taken the lead.
It was time to greet the guests and, of course, to mingle—his father’s favorite pastime.
The music was blaring as Sage opened her car door and stepped out. “Hold on, Grandma. Let me come around and help you and Eileen.”
“Quit your fussing,” Bethel snapped. “Someone might hear you and think we’re nothing but a couple of frail old women. You do realize I’m only sixty-five? It’s not like I have a foot in the grave already.”
A petite woman, Sage’s grandmother didn’t look a day over fifty, especially with her pink hair. It had originally been a dye job gone terribly wrong, but Bethel had loved it so much that for the past five years her hair had looked like it belonged on a Barbie doll.
Sage had grown so used to it she didn’t even blink anymore. When Eileen decided to join her best friend with her own pink-colored hair, she and Bethel had been nicknamed the Pink Ladies, a nod to one of their favorite movies, Grease.
It was fitting. The two were usually full of life and laughter and always seemed to be getting into trouble. And that worried Sage on occasion. It was probably a very good thing Sage had come home when she did. She’d have to find sneaky ways to get her grandmother to rest, especially since the woman’s health wasn’t the best right now.
But as Sage really thought about it, something just wasn’t quite adding up. Just last year, she had been horrified when the police chief had called her. He’d been left with no choice but to arrest both Eileen and Bethel and their third accomplice, Maggie Winchester, after the three of them thought it would be amusing to go skinny-dipping in the local pool after hours. The poor night guard who knew the women well had heard the commotion and called the cops, then had turned beet red when he’d discovered who was trespassing.
That certainly didn’t sound like a woman who wasn’t feeling well.