She stared at him blankly.

“Richard!” he cried, and spread his arms wide. He was surprised she didn’t recognize him in his new shirt, hat and boots. He gaze lowered to her full breasts. He always had been partial to a well-endowed woman. Yup, he could see he’d come home in the nick of time. No ring on her finger, either. Not that it mattered. Often, forbidden fruit was all the sweeter.

“Richard Weston?”

“The one and only.”

She asked the same questions as Max—when he’d arrived, what he’d been doing, how long he planned to stay and so on. He was vague until he mentioned the party.

“Bring whoever you want, but be sure to save me a dance, all right?” He winked, letting her know he was interested.

“I don’t know... My dad’s been sick and—”

“Come, anyway,” he urged. “You need the break, and what better way to put your troubles behind you than to kick up your heels and party?”

Dancing. That meant music. They were going to need a band, and on short notice. That’d cost a few extra bucks, but hey, no problem. Grady was tight with a penny, but he probably had plenty of cash stored away. His older brother was too much like their father to cut it close to the bone.

“Who’s playing at the Chili Pepper these days?” he asked, referring to the best barbecue pit in town.

Ellie named a band he hadn’t heard of. He nodded and headed in that direction. While he was there, he’d arrange to have Adam Braunfels set up a barbecue. They were going to need lots of food. Naturally Savannah would want to cook up most of it herself, make salads and such; she’d insist on that the same way Mom would if she were alive.

He remembered his parents with fondness. Their deaths had put an unexpected crimp in his life, but Richard was a survivor. The years had proved that. He’d weathered his current troubles, hadn’t he? He was home and as safe as a babe in arms.

By the time Richard drove back to the ranch, he’d made a number of arrangements for the party. He’d ordered a dozen cases of beer and he’d made sure there was going to be plenty of soda pop for the youngsters. Millie over at the flower shop had suggested Chinese lanterns and agreed to set them up early in the afternoon. For a price, naturally, but she’d been reasonable about it.

Savannah was working in her garden when he arrived. She wore one of those long dresses of hers with an oversize straw hat and looked more like a nun than the big sister he remembered. Briefly he wondered what was up between her and that prickly hired hand.

“My, don’t you look beautiful this afternoon,” Richard said as he waltzed through the gate. “As pretty as one of your roses.”

She blushed and Richard was struck by how truly pretty she was. It surprised him.

“Listen, sis, I probably shouldn’t have done this, but I ran into some friends in town.”

Savannah straightened and dabbed the sweat from her brow. “I imagine everyone was glad to see you.”

“They were, but there just wasn’t enough time to visit with everyone the way I wanted. I hope you don’t mind, but I invited a few people over for dinner Sunday evening. You wouldn’t mind cooking up some of your prize-winning potato salad, now, would you?”

“For how many?”

Richard laughed and hugged her close. “Enough for about 150.”

Six

Grady swore Richard must have invited the entire population of Promise to this so-called party. Neighbors and friends whirled around the makeshift dance floor, while others sat in the sunshine and exchanged gossip. Grady didn’t want anything to do with it.

The first he’d heard of Richard’s party was when he found Savannah in the kitchen this morning cooking her heart out. The next thing he knew, Millie Greenville from the local flower shop was stringing Chinese lanterns around the backyard and asking him when he intended to set up the tables. According to Millie, he was going to need at least twenty to accommodate everyone.

Before he fully comprehended what was happening, people started to arrive. The lead singer of the Hoss Cartrights asked him questions he couldn’t answer. Apparently they didn’t need his help because the next time he stepped out of the barn, they’d set up a stage, plugged in their sound equipment and spread a bale of straw across the lawn for a dance floor.

Richard, dressed in his fancy new duds, was in his element. Grady didn’t know what had possessed him to give in to Savannah’s pleadings to let their worthless brother stay on until his severance check showed up. Grady wasn’t entirely convinced there was a check. Furthermore he wondered where the hell Richard was getting the money to pay for his new clothes, not to mention this party. The guy was supposed to be broke. Well, maybe he had a charge card he hadn’t told them about.

As for Richard’s staying on, Savannah insisted it’d only be a few days. Richard needed to recuperate, rest up. To hear her tell it, you’d think he’d been working on a chain gang for the past six years and was practically at death’s door. Judging by the energy his kid brother displayed on the dance floor, he’d recovered quickly, Grady thought.

The beer flowed free and easy. Grady was on his second bottle himself: The Chili Pepper’s spicy barbecue sauce sizzled on the large tin-drum grills, filling the air with a spicy smoky aroma. The dinner line extended halfway around the house.

Those who weren’t eating or dancing mingled in the yard, making themselves at home. Grady had originally decided not to participate in Richard’s party, but his standoffishness hadn’t lasted long.

Cal and Glen Patterson, neighboring ranchers and friends, arrived then. They sat with him on the porch steps. Grady couldn’t remember the last time he’d shot the breeze with the brothers. The three of them had grown up together and remained close to this day. As close as Grady allowed anyone to get.

“I didn’t think you’d ever welcome Richard back,” Cal said, leaning back, a beer in one hand. Cal and the sheriff were the only two who knew about Richard’s theft. It wasn’t the kind of information you shared about family.

“I didn’t welcome him back.” Grady wanted that understood right then and there. This party wasn’t his idea.

Grady noticed Sheriff Hennessey twirling Dovie Boyd around the dance floor. His opinion of the lawman had fallen several degrees when he’d failed to turn up anything on Smith. If the man was doing his job, he grumbled to himself, Frank would be down at the office right this minute, instead of partying.

“If you aren’t responsible for this welcoming, then whose idea was it?” Cal asked. “Savannah’s?”

“Nope. Richard organized it himself.” Grady took another swallow of beer. The cold brew helped relieve his growing sense of frustration. Again he wondered how Richard intended to pay for all this. Surely he wasn’t expecting him to foot the bill. That would be too brazen even for Richard.

His mistake, Grady realized, was giving in and allowing Richard to stay that first night. Now his younger brother had manipulated him once again—made it look as if Grady had welcomed him back with open arms. As far as he was concerned, Richard couldn’t leave soon enough.

Savannah had been slaving in the kitchen since before dawn. Neighbors he hadn’t seen in months had brought over pies, cakes and an assortment of side dishes; they’d delivered picnic tables and dozens of lawn chairs. And now Grady was indebted to each and every one of them. His neighbors would be looking for return favors, too. Especially of the social kind. It wouldn’t take long for the invites to arrive, and he’d be expected to accept. Damn it all. He’d never been a partygoer and didn’t intend to start now.

“What I’d like to know,” Grady muttered to his friends, “is how the hell he’s paying for all this.”