After squeezing Sandy’s hand, Emily pulled up a chair.
Brooke realized her mom was blinking back tears. “Hey, I’m okay,” she quickly reassured her, then leaned down to give her a gentle hug. “Dad must have told you I didn’t even get a scratch.”
“Oh, don’t mind me,” Sandy said when she sat back, waving her hand and blinking furiously before scrutinizing her. “I don’t think your bravery at the burning barn even singed a lock of hair.”
Brooke blushed. “I wasn’t brave. I was scared to death. But all I could think of were those poor horses.”
“And you saved them all?”
Brooke nodded and gave her a brief description of the fire.
Emily chimed in, “Don’t forget the help of Adam Desantis.”
Sandy’s eyes went wide, then she studied her daughter. “I heard a stranger helped you, but not his name. I remember Adam.” Her expression grew sympathetic. “He’s visiting Renee?”
Brooke nodded, then decided not to ask her mom about Mrs. Palmer’s health, remembering how the old woman had used her cane only after Adam entered the room, and how Grandma Thalberg had brushed off her concerns. Brooke would keep an eye on the widows.
“Have the doctors said how much longer you’ll be in here?” she asked, almost wincing at how false and bright her voice sounded. She was trying to convince herself that her mother would be fine.
“A day or two. I admit I’m feeling anxious to be gone. I don’t like being away from the ranch. Your father depends on me.”
“Of course he does—he’s a man,” Brooke teased.
Her mother’s smile was halfhearted, and Brooke’s uneasiness increased.
“You know I’ll make sure everything goes okay back home,” she said earnestly.
“I know you will, sweetie.”
Brooke told herself the doubt in her mom’s voice was about her concern for the ranch and her frustration about not being there. Then why did Brooke suspect it was something else?
Chapter Three
On the way back to Valentine, Brooke’s throat was so tight she couldn’t talk about her mother. She was glad when Emily received a text from Monica asking them to meet her for dinner at the Halftime Sports Bar. When they reached town, they drove down Main Street, lined with clapboard storefronts, all brightly colored, one to three floors in height. Interspersed were the occasional stone buildings like the Royal Opera or the Hotel Colorado, each of which took up most of a block. The Halftime was nestled between the deli and the Open Book. Neon beer signs winked in the two windows that bracketed the front door, and inside, sports memorabilia covered darkly paneled walls. Flat screen TVs gave perfect viewing to every table in the place. The bar was overflowing with the after-work crowd, most of whom raised a hand or called a greeting when Brooke and Emily entered.
“Brooke!” Monica called from a table near the back.
They bypassed the hostess, and Brooke grinned at her best friend since childhood. Monica Shaw was a slim, black woman with curls that just brushed her shoulders. She had the high cheekbones and exotic eyes of a model, if not the towering height. In truth, she was a small-town girl, now the owner of Monica’s Flowers and Gifts. She’d never wanted to move to the big city, like her twin sister, a reporter for CNN. That had caused some family problems, but they’d had a good talk and cry, and now Monica was excited about her spring trip to visit Melissa. Her store was right next to Sugar and Spice, so it was Monica who’d first befriended Emily and helped convince her to stay in town. Nate owed Monica for his good fortune—as Monica was always quick to remind him.
“I heard the news!” Monica said, shoving her plate of nachos into the center of the table.
“News?” Brooke’s thoughts immediately went to the recent arrival of Adam. She dipped a nacho and groaned with happiness as she devoured it. She’d forgotten to eat lunch in the middle of that crazy day.
“The barn fire?” Monica answered, her face full of disbelief. She glanced at Emily. “Are you sure she didn’t get hit on the head?”
Emily only shrugged as she concentrated on the nachos.
“Sorry,” Brooke said sheepishly. “I’ve explained it so many times today, I thought I’d already told you!” She had herself better under control now, and wouldn’t worry her friends by falling apart. She could treat this lightly, as if she risked her life every day. Well, okay, sometimes she did, where the occasional runaway bull was concerned.
After they ordered beer and salad