“I realize that.” His voice sounded strange even to his own ears.

“When and if we find Richard, I won’t have any choice but to arrest him.”

“I understand.” Grady wouldn’t expect anything less. It was what his brother deserved.

“I talked to the New York district attorney this morning. The state wants him bad. Apparently there’s been quite a bit of press regarding his arrest and the charges brought against him. He’s hurt a lot of people, Grady.”

“What happened to him? What made Richard the way he is?” The questions were rhetorical; Grady didn’t actually expect the sheriff to supply an answer.

Frank shook his head. “Hell if I know. I liked Richard. He was always charming and clever—but somehow that turned into conniving and untrustworthy. Why he’s like that, I couldn’t say. Over the years I’ve met other people who were just as rotten, and I don’t believe environment or bad circumstances is always the explanation. Your parents were God-fearing folk, and they raised him right. The fault lies within Richard himself.”

Although Grady already knew as much, it helped to have a lawman as experienced as Frank confirm it.

“Eventually Richard will be caught,” Frank said, as if he felt the necessity to prepare Grady for the inevitable. “And when he is, he’ll be headed straight for prison.”

It hurt to think of his brother doing jail time, but Grady’s sympathies went out to all the people Richard had cheated, himself included.

Grady walked Frank out to his patrol car, then made his way to the barn. He whistled for Rocket and stopped abruptly when the dog didn’t come. Rocket’s hearing was getting bad, and he’d grown arthritic; these days, he mostly enjoyed lazing about on the front porch. But he still liked to accompany Grady to the barn. Just to reassure himself, Grady decided to check on his dog. Rocket had belonged to his father and was already middle-aged—seven years old—at the time of the accident. In the hard, financially crippling years that followed, the dog had become Grady’s constant sidekick and friend. He’d shared his woes, frustrations, joys and sorrows with Rocket, and the old dog always gave him comfort.

A smile came to him when he saw the dog lying on his usual braided rug. He whistled again. “Come on, boy, we’ve got work to do.”

Rocket remained still.

As Grady approached the front porch, his steps slowed. He wasn’t sure when he realized his faithful companion was gone, but by the time he reached the porch steps, his heart was full of dread.

“Rocket,” he whispered and hunkered down beside the dog.

One touch confirmed the worst. Rocket had died, apparently in his sleep.

An intense sadness settled over Grady. On a ranch dogs came and went, and he’d learned the downfall of becoming too attached to any one animal. But Rocket was special. Different. Rocket was a loyal intelligent dog—the best dog he’d ever had; Rocket was also the last tangible piece of his father.

His throat ached and he bowed his head for several minutes, not even trying to fight back the tears.

Once he’d composed himself, he sought out his sister. He found her working in her garden. “I need a shovel,” he announced without emotion, as if he didn’t know where one was kept.

As he knew she would, Savannah guessed immediately that something wasn’t right. “What happened?”

He steeled himself and told her. “Rocket’s gone. It looks like he died in his sleep.”

He watched as the sadness transformed her face. Tears filled her eyes. “Oh, Grady, I’m so sorry. I know how much you loved him.”

“He was just a dog,” he said with a stoicism he didn’t feel.

“Not an ordinary dog,” she added gently.

“No, not ordinary,” he agreed, the pain of loss tightening his chest. “If you agree, I’d like to bury him in your garden by the rosebush you named after Mom.”

She nodded mutely.

They worked side by side, brother and sister. Grady dug the grave, grateful for the physical effort that helped vent his pain. Again and again he was forced to remind himself that Rocket was just a dog, like a dozen or more who’d lived and died through the years. But he couldn’t make himself believe it.

When he finished, he placed a rock as a marker. Savannah stood beside him.

“Goodbye, Rocket,” she whispered.

“Goodbye, old friend,” Grady said.

Savannah sobbed and turned into his arms. Grady held her, battling back emotion himself. An image came to mind, a memory—his father crouched down and Rocket running toward him, leaping into his arms, joyfully licking his face. Their reunion would be a happy one, but Grady knew there’d be a hole in his heart for a long time to come.

* * *

“I’M GLAD WE COULD FINALLY meet for lunch,” Ellie Frasier said, sliding into the booth at the bowling alley café.

Jane Dickinson smiled in welcome. She’d been waiting ten minutes, but she tended to be early, a habit her family had instilled in her. This lunch date was something she’d really looked forward to, although it had been difficult to arrange with both their schedules so busy. But Dovie had encouraged Jane to meet Ellie, mentioning her in almost every conversation.

Jane had come to think of Dovie as a mentor and friend. Stopping to talk with her that first morning she’d gone for a jog had been one of the smartest things she’d done since moving to Promise. Unfortunately Dovie was still the only person in town she knew on a first-name basis. Despite her efforts to become part of the community, friendly gestures from the other residents of Promise were few and far between.

“So…Dovie thought it would be a good idea for the two of us to get to know each other,” Ellie said, reaching for the menu.

“I realize you’re getting married soon,” Jane said as a means of starting the conversation. “You must be terribly busy….”

Ellie nodded. “The wedding’s only a couple of weeks away.” A wistful look stole over her face.

Jane recognized that look—it was the look of a woman in love. Jane envied her happiness. After medical school and then working as an intern, followed by her residency at a huge public-health hospital in Los Angeles, there hadn’t been time in her life for anything other than medicine. Now she was trapped in Texas with only one friend and zero prospects for romance.

Ellie did little more than glance at the menu before she set it aside.

Jane had spent several minutes reading over the selections, but had failed to make a choice. “You know what you’re going to have?”

“I almost always order the chicken-fried steak.”

The thought of all those fat grams was enough to make Jane feel queasy. Even the salads listed on the menu were ones she normally avoided—coleslaw with mayonnaise dressing, for instance. Most of the food was battered and fried. Even the vegetables. Okra coated in cornmeal and cooked in a deep fryer. The same with tomatoes. It was a wonder anyone lived beyond twenty-five in this town. The eating habits here were probably the unhealthiest she’d seen in years. It was time the people of Promise caught up with the latest information on health and diet.

“The chicken-fried steak is great,” Ellie coaxed when Jane continued to study the menu.

The waitress arrived with her pad and pen. Ellie gave the woman her order, then chatted briefly while Jane reviewed her choices one last time.

“I’ll have a green salad with avocado if you’ve got it.”

The waitress—Denise, according to her name tag—wrote it down on her pad.

“With dressing on the side.”

Denise exchanged a scornful glance with Ellie before she called the order in to the kitchen. The woman’s reaction was typical of what Jane had encountered the past few weeks.

“What did I do that was so wrong?” Jane asked, leaning forward.

“First off, we Texans pride ourselves on our food.”