Robin fought the urge to squirm in her chair. “All right, it’s my fault,” she admitted reluctantly. “I didn’t realize what it was Guillermo was telling me, and then I was gone for a month—”
“Five weeks, but who’s counting? Anyway, what’s done is done,” Evan said, then stood abruptly, shoved his hands into his pocket as he walked to the windows. “I’m going to fly to Harlingen tomorrow and talk to Herrera, but I don’t think it will do any good. Now listen, Aaron will know immediately that this was something that should have been easily handled. Don’t bullshit him.”
As if she needed to be reminded. “I’ll call Dad right now.” She stood, swiped her coffee cup off her desk, and marched to the wet bar to pour another.
“Still drinking too much coffee?” he asked, his voice noticeably lighter.
“I guess,” she said and dumped three sugars into her cup. She stirred her coffee slowly, aware of the silence filling the space between them. After what seemed an eternity, she heard Evan move behind her.
“I’m going back to Dallas this afternoon,” he said, standing directly behind her. There was that thing in his voice, that uncomfortable sound of longing. Robin did not turn around, but simply nodded, waiting. Evan sighed. “I’ll talk to you soon, all right?”
When Robin turned around, he had gone.
She stood at the wet bar for several long moments, staring at the door before finally, slowly, returning to her desk.
The phone message, on which the receptionist had written CALL YOUR FATHER AT THE RANCH IMMEDIATELY, was staring up at her. Damn.
Dad picked up the phone on the first ring. “Hello?” he said anxiously.
“Hey, Dad, it’s me.”
“Robbie! Good God, does the word immediately mean anything to you? I’ve been trying to get hold of you for two days now!”
“I was out yesterday with Mia. You remember her—”
“I asked that you call me when you came in. Did you just come in?”
Robin suppressed a groan. “Dad, I had some other calls to return. Listen, I know why you’re calling, and—”
“No, Robin Elaine, you don’t. I need you to come to the ranch.”
“Uh . . . to the ranch?” That was most definitely not in her plans. “Gee, Dad, I don’t think I can make it right now.”
“Rebecca and Rachel are coming, too,” he continued, as if he hadn’t heard her. “Bec is going to pick up Rachel in Dallas this morning and then they are driving down. You can get here tonight if you leave before rush hour—”
“Dad!” Robin exclaimed, laughing nervously at his sudden determination to see his daughters. “I can’t just up and come to the ranch—”
“Why the hell not?” he barked, then made a strange sound. “Robbie, listen,” he said, his voice hoarse and soft, “there is something I need to tell you, but I can’t do it over the phone. I need you to come here.”
That sobered her—her father was demanding, but not the sort to make anxious demands, unless . . . unless something was awfully wrong. “Has something happened?” she asked quickly.
“Yes. No. Well, is happening.”
“What?” she asked, unconsciously curling her hand into a fist, steeling herself. “Is it Mom? Did something happen to Mom?”
“Oh baby, no, your mom is fine,” he said softly and sighed wearily. “God, Robbie, I don’t believe it myself, but . . . it’s me.”
Chapter Two
The entrance to the Lear family ranch—massive limestone pillars framing iron gates, an overarching frieze of cattle and crosses with the name Blue Cross Ranch scripted in the middle—had stood open since Aaron and Bonnie arrived two weeks ago.
The event was remarked by the locals in and around the town of Comfort, Texas, and every so often, one of them would be curious enough to drive through the gates for a friendly look around. The caliche road, marked by cattle guards, wended through mesquite trees and old live oaks with branches so long and low that they formed a canopy for long stretches. To the right and left of the road, 1,500 head of cattle and about 500 sheep grazed on the green, hilly landscape. In the spring, bluebonnets, buttercups, and Indian paintbrush grew so thick that it looked as if the cattle slept on a bed of flowers.