The Parent Plan Part 3. Paula Riggs Detmer

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      “Sloane here.”

      “Cass, it’s Rio Redtree.”

      He’d met the Grand Springs native a few years back when Rio sat in for Bren Gallagher during one of their poker nights. Never one to warm to a stranger quickly, Cassidy had found himself liking the younger man immensely by the end of the evening. Since that time, they’d spent many a night glaring at each other across a steadily mounting pot. More often than not, to Cassidy’s chagrin, Redtree had gone home with more money in his jeans than he’d brought while Cassidy’s pockets tended to be all but empty.

      Curiosity surfaced in his mind as he leaned back in his chair and made a stab at massaging away the hard ache at the base of his skull that was his constant companion.

      “How’s it going?” he asked, because it was expected.

      “Can’t complain. And you?”

      “Overworked.” And missing his wife so much he was sick with it.

      Redtree chuckled. “There is that.”

      “You got a reason for calling a hardworking rancher in the middle of the night?”

      “Like you were asleep.” The other man cleared his throat. “Something’s come up I think you ought to know about.”

      Instantly alert, Cassidy narrowed his gaze. “I’m listening.”

      There was a brief hesitation, as if Rio was searching for words. Cassidy felt the first prickling of concern and sat up straighter.

      “It concerns Vicki, mostly,” Rio confided finally.

      Fear stabbed deep. He warned himself not to bolt before he knew where he was heading. “Concerns her how?”

      “Easy, Cass, it’s probably not serious, but—”

      “Answer the question, Redtree.” He heard the threat in his voice and made a conscious effort to control himself as he added, “What do you know that you’re not telling me?”

      Rio’s sigh did little to stem Cassidy’s growing alarm. “Vicki’s class was here at the Herald last week on a field trip, and while the other kids were learning about computer pasteup and design, she slipped away to talk to me. Said she recognized me because I played poker with her daddy.”

      Cassidy heard the crunch of gravel outside and glanced at the clock. Billy was a few minutes early. The other hands wouldn’t be arriving for another half hour or so.

      “Go on.”

      There was the sound of rustling paper before the other man continued. “It seems she’s decided I should do an article on the effect of divorce on little girls and dogs.”

      Cassidy indulged in a curt oath that had Rio chuckling. “Yeah, well, I told her that it might be a better idea if she wrote it, seeing as she’s had experience.”

      Because he was alone, Cassidy let his head drop. “Why do I think I’m not going to enjoy this?” he muttered, digging harder into the knotted muscles of his neck.

      “You have a fax machine, right?”

      Cassidy already knew where this was going. “Yeah.”

      “Hold on a minute while I get a pencil.”

      Cassidy heard drawers opening and Rio muttering. “Okay, what’s the number?” he asked when he came back on the line.

      Cassidy recited the digits, waited until Rio repeated them before asking a little too brusquely, “She didn’t, uh, cry or anything, did she?”

      “Like a bubbling little fountain,” Rio said cheerfully, earning him another rude comment. “But I had her laughing again before they left.”

      “Hell, Redtree, I didn’t think you had a sensitive bone in that pitiful wreck you call a body.”

      Rio’s chuckle would have been infectious—if Cassidy wasn’t busy bracing himself to read his daughter’s words as soon as they spilled out of the fax. “Funny what living with a good woman can do for a man, ain’t it, Sloane.”

      Cassidy closed his eyes on a knife-thrust of pain. “What is this, Redtree, a damned conspiracy to rub my nose in my own stupidity?”

      “Something like that, yeah. Is it working?”

      “It’s working.”

      “Going to try to get her back?”

      Cassidy thought about lying. A man had his pride. “I’m considering it.”

      “Want some advice from a man who’s been there?” Redtree’s voice was subtly altered, as though he was grinning.

      “Might as well, since I figure you’re gonna give it whether I want it or not.”

      Rio laughed. “Well, hell, you’re smarter than I figured.”

      “You gonna tell me or insult me?”

      Cassidy heard a long-suffering sigh that had his teeth grating together.

      “Get yourself all duded up, buy her a coupla dozen roses and maybe some candy—to get her in the mood, you know. And then, get down on your knees and grovel. Works every time.”

      * * *

      Karen woke a little before noon, still groggy from the aftereffects of a long and stressful weekend as a resident-on-duty. Exhaustion still buzzed in her head, and her arches ached.

      Just over seven more months and her days as an ill-paid, overworked resident would be at an end. Then, after surviving the worst, she could look forward to private practice as a better-paid, but still overworked doctor.

      With a heartfelt sigh, she sat up and threw off the covers. Though her bedroom was the smallest of four on the second floor, she’d chosen it because its two dormer windows looked out on the snow-capped Rockies marking the western horizon. It was the same view she’d had from the master bedroom at the ranch, and it didn’t take much thought to realize why she favored it.

      Three weeks down and a lifetime to go, she thought as she glanced at the thick packet of legal papers on the small desk between the windows. She must have signed her name two dozen times in the past weeks, each signature taking her closer to a final act of separation from the man she loved. And couldn’t have, she reminded herself as she climbed out of bed.

      Without bothering with a robe, she padded across the chilly floor to the door. The second floor was wrapped in silence as she gained the hall and turned left, heading toward the bathroom at the end of the hall. Halfway to her destination, she was startled to hear a heavy footfall behind her. Turning quickly, her heart suddenly pounding, she was stunned to see Cassidy coming toward her from the direction of the stairs.

      He was wearing a sky blue Western-cut shirt that she’d never seen before, and his jeans were clean, though far from new. His jaw was shiny from a recent shave, and he’d made an attempt to tame the unruly curl from his glossy black hair.

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