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“Fine, thank you,” she said, shaking his hand.
He was a handsome man. Lean and erect, he had to be seventy or better. The lines on his face showed both the worries and the laughter he’d experienced. His wife had died in a car wreck years ago, shortly after the orphans had come to live with them, and his daughter had been kidnapped at the same time. Or so everyone thought. No trace had been found of the three-year-old since the accident.
Amelia identified with his grief. Losing her grandparents had been like having a large part of her own heart torn out by the roots.
Travis and Alison greeted her warmly, then went to their house by a short trail through the woods.
“Let’s go in,” Seth suggested. “She’s not getting any lighter.”
Uncle Nick, as everyone called him, laughed at this and led the way inside. Amelia was placed on a leather sofa and the TV turned on to entertain her while the two men went in different directions.
Seth reappeared in fresh clothing—jeans and a V-neck sweater in royal-blue. Other than the sweat-suit, he’d had to wear the same clothing he’d arrived in on Friday. He went into the kitchen.
She’d often wondered how they did things in this mostly bachelor household. There’d been only one girl among the six orphans, Seth’s half sister, Roni. Soon it was obvious, as the two males finished preparations for lunch, that they were well used to working together, and that neither was a stranger to the ranch kitchen.
Fifteen minutes later, Travis and Alison arrived, each carrying an item. “Dessert,” Alison said. “Pumpkin pie.”
“And real whipped cream,” Travis added.
Amelia said it sounded delicious. The couple had changed from their Sunday clothes to jeans and long-sleeved chambray shirts. Tall and fit, they were a charming pair, him with the nearly black hair and blue eyes of the Dalton gang, her with blond hair and smoky-green eyes.
As it had the previous day, time passed swiftly. During a meal of baked chicken and mushroom dressing—Uncle Nick promised Amelia the recipe—they spoke of politics and happenings in the state. Alison’s father was running for governor and she reported all was going well there.
“Are you still helping with his campaign?” Amelia asked.
Alison had stayed at the B and B during the summer and the two had become friends. The younger woman now taught business classes at the county high school.
“I mostly write press releases. However, I’ve made two speeches, one before three hundred wives of retired state employees and another to a teachers’ group,” she said.
“But no more,” Travis said firmly. “We’re expecting an addition to the family in late spring.”
There was a moment’s silence, then Seth broke it with his hearty congratulations. “Hear that?” he demanded of his uncle. “You’ve finally gotten your wish. The future generation is now assured.”
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