“That brat was my ticket to freedom,” Clancy said.

“You’re free now, aren’t you?” Deb asked.

“I’m being hunted like an animal.”

“So what are you going to do, go find another doctor’s kid to kidnap?” Deb asked. Her voice was quieter than before, not so harsh. Maybe Clancy had her as scared as Doriann.

“No, I want that doctor’s kid. That doctor’s just a man. He’s not a god. He looks through people as if they don’t even exist. I’ve seen too many others just like him.”

“People who’ve looked at you like that?” Deb asked.

Silence for a minute, then, “How far to River Dance? We’ll get the stuff there.”

“How? We don’t know anybody there, and you don’t just walk into a drugstore and buy-”

“You didn’t answer me,” Clancy said. “How far to River Dance?”

“How should I know?”

“You saw the road signs, didn’t you?”

“We’re maybe about four or five miles away, my guess, but nobody’s going to sell us anything.”

“They’ll sell us wine. At least we’ll take the edge off with a couple of bottles. Hide out someplace where nobody will be looking. Stay underground, out of sight for a while. We could hit a drugstore later, or a doctor’s office.”

“With what? Your gun’s in that swamp, you moron!”

There was a loud smack and a grunt, and Doriann could imagine more of Deb’s teeth flying across the barn floor.

“Don’t call me a moron!” Clancy shouted. And then he called Deb a lot of names that Doriann had never heard before.

Deb didn’t argue.

“You want to know what happened to my last partner?” Clancy asked.

No answer.

Doriann wondered if he’d knocked Deb out. What if he’d killed her?

Jama had every confidence in Dr. George’s ability to care for Monty. Nevertheless, she walked into the recovery room with her stethoscope around her neck, more as something to focus on than to utilize.

When she saw Monty lying, eyes closed, most likely still half-under the anesthesia, she was glad for his grogginess. If he were alert, he would pick up on her anxiety.

“So,” Monty said without opening his eyes, “remember your promise?”

She couldn’t prevent a smile. He could still recognize each of his kids by the sound of their footsteps.

His eyes opened then. “You promised that as soon as we got me taken care of, I could interfere-”

“I remember. You’re amazingly lucid under the influence of anesthesia.”

“I’ve been told I metabolize that stuff quickly.”

“Who told you that?”

“Can’t remember.”

“The last nurse who took care of you in surgery?”

“Could be,” Monty murmured.

“Such as the time you had the stroke and didn’t tell anybody?”

“Stop stalling. What’s going on between you and my new ranch foreman?”

Jama grinned and kissed him on the forehead. “Nothing right now. You got sick, and we dropped everything else.”

“So Tyrell isn’t harassing you?”

Jama hesitated. “Well…”

“I told him not to, and he’s usually pretty good about minding his father.”

“I know. But he’s worried about you right now, and he’s not thinking straight. Our concern is for you today.” For a moment, Jama saw Tyrell’s dark blue gaze in his father’s eyes, and she saw the challenge in them. Monty’s concern warmed her, saddened her and stirred her gratitude as she thought about what might have been.

“You telling me to butt out?” Monty asked.

“Would I tell you that?”

“No, you’d just sidestep my questions until I really did have a heart attack. Do you believe in long engagements?”

“I never gave the subject much thought.”

“Maybe you should.”

All Jama could think of right now was Doriann. Monty’s beloved granddaughter.

“Your mom and I had six years of engaged bliss.”

Jama loved it when Monty referred to Fran as her mom. As if she really were.

Then his words registered. “Six? Now here’s something rare-a story I haven’t heard.”

“Long engagements are wonderful-even though the engaged couple doesn’t usually see it that way. I sure didn’t when I proposed to Fran. She accepted with the condition that we wait until we had both completed high school.”

In spite of everything, Jama laughed. “You were in seventh grade?”

“Ninth. Our parents insisted we complete two years of higher education before we spoke our vows.”

“So you waited.”

“It was the best time of our lives. We had the chance to know each other well, and because our parents were so strict, Fran and I were best friends for a long, long time.”

“And you’re so happy together.”

“Best friends always make the best marriages.”

“I think you’re trying to tell me something.”

“You and Tyrell are best friends?”

“Of course.”

“So the real problem is that my son has not given you the option of an engagement length of your choosing.”

“We didn’t talk about it, Monty.”

“Maybe you should. It could make all the difference. If you don’t feel the pressure of a wedding and marriage for four years, you can relax, enjoy one another’s company, and take some time to see if this is really what you want. I think it is, and you just don’t know it yet.”

“Monty,” she warned.

He winced, then tapped himself on the forehead. “There I go, telling you what you’re feeling. I promised Fran I wouldn’t do that. You won’t tell her, will you? She’s already upset enough today.”

“I won’t tell, as long as you stop now.”

He grinned, then sobered. “Jama Keith, I don’t like to see someone in my family carrying more burdens than even I can haul. Want to talk about it? I may have a tricky heart right now, but seeing you suffering is even harder on me.”

“Montrose Mercer,” came Fran’s quiet voice from the doorway to the hospital room, “don’t you even joke about that.”

“Who’s joking?” Monty asked as his wife joined Jama at his bedside.

“I don’t see how you can be so intrusive to the woman who saved your life today. You’re barging in on Tyrell’s territory.” Fran leaned in for a kiss, and then, to Jama’s delight, slid her shoes off and carefully climbed onto the narrow hospital bed beside her husband.

Jama was accustomed to their affection. They used to embarrass their kids to death when they smooched in front of any school friends who might be at the house. Jama also had many memories of being shooed out to play with all the other kids so Fran and Monty could be alone.

Some of Jama’s best times were spent with the Mercers, even before Dad’s death. She remembered riding home with the family from a movie or dinner or a picnic. Monty would start singing a song. Fran would harmonize, and the rest of the kids, though they rolled their eyes, grudgingly, joined.

When the kids all grew up and went their separate ways, Jama was disappointed the singing ended.

How she missed those days. She would love to return to that period in her life, when she believed Monty and Fran could carry the world on their shoulders.

She knew now that they’d never done that. They were human, made mistakes, endured pain, interfered too much in the lives of their children, had bad breath in the morning and struggled with financial decisions just like everyone else.

She stepped from the room and left the loving couple alone. Jama prayed that their lives weren’t soon to be shattered by tragic news of their granddaughter.