Redwood Bend (Virgin River #18)(75)

He heard the phone in the cabin ring, heard Katie answer. Then she was at the door. “Dylan? It’s Jack Sheridan and he’d like to speak to you.”

“Keep an eye on things out here, will you?”

“Sure,” she said. “Oh, God, Dylan—the boys are upside down again!”

“They’re fine,” he said. “They prefer to be upside down. I’ll be right back.”

A few moments later he was back on the porch, but the expression he wore was odd. He looked puzzled and maybe unhappy. “I’m not sure there’s any way to prepare you for this…”

And just as he said that, a long and classy Lincoln town car pulled into the clearing. It looked like a modern version of Cinderella’s coach.

“Dylan?” she asked, standing from her chair.

The uniformed driver jumped out and went to open the back passenger door. Adele Childress stepped out. She was wearing cream-colored slacks that matched her car, low heels, a cinnamon blouse with a silk scarf under the collar and around her neck, the color of her slacks. She wore a gold chain belt and matching necklace. Her hair and makeup were perfect. Dylan smirked. This was her going-into-the-mountains attire.

Katie ran her hands down her pants, which were jeans with a short T-shirt that exposed her flat belly and navel.

“You look great,” Dylan said to Katie.

She ran her hands over her hair at her temples, patting it into place.

“You’re beautiful,” he told her. “Don’t be intimidated by flash.”

He crossed his arms over his chest as Adele approached the porch. Unlike Jack had done by stepping down from the porch, Dylan held his ground.

“I would have called ahead, but you haven’t answered any of my texts or voice mails or emails,” she said.

“Because as I explained, I was going to be out of cell contact for a few days and would be back in touch when possible.”

Katie whacked him on the shoulder and bounded off the porch steps. “Hi. I’m Katie Malone,” she said. For a second she was flustered, wondering whether to curtsy or shake hands. She put out her hand.

“It’s a pleasure, Katie,” Adele said, taking her hand. “Adele Childress. How wonderful to meet you. And those must be your sons.”

“Mitch and Andy,” she said. “Boys. Come and say hello to Dylan’s grandmother, Mrs. Childress.”

They seemed to climb down from the jungle gym a bit reluctantly, approaching warily.

“Are they shy?” Adele asked.

“Not in the least,” Katie said with a laugh. “Maybe they’re afraid they’ll get you dirty. And I’m sure they’ve never seen a car like that.”

“How in the world do you tell them apart?”

“It comes with time. Dylan can tell the difference. Would you like a glass of tea on the porch?”

“That would be lovely, Katie.” She turned to look at her driver. “Randy?”

“I’m fine, ma’am,” he said, going to the trunk which produced a cold drink.

Katie bent at the waist and focused on her boys. “Say hello, boys.” One at a time they said a very quiet “hello.” Then they began to back away, making Katie laugh. “Go ahead, you can play. Come up on the porch, Mrs. Childress. I’ll get you a cold tea.”

As Katie went inside and Adele stepped onto the porch, Dylan threw an arm wide, indicating the chair he had just vacated. She sat down and said, “Thank you, dear.”

“My pleasure,” he said. Then he jogged down the porch steps and into the clearing where he grasped the driver’s hand in a firm and welcoming handshake. Then he was back to the porch. “Now,” he said to his grandmother. “What are you doing here?” He leaned a hip on the porch rail and folded his arms against his chest again.

“Wouldn’t I welcome as hearty a greeting as the chauffeur received,” she said, indignant.

“We both know this wasn’t Randy’s idea. So? Your purpose?”

“Just a little recon, Dylan,” she said. “You mentioned unfinished business of the female kind and Lang said he was fairly sure you were here about a woman. And I was out of the loop.”

“I can’t believe you did this,” he muttered.

“I can’t believe you expected less,” she replied. “I ask very little of you—just that you stay in touch. There are all kinds of things happening in your life and I was…well, curious. Concerned.”

“Gran, I’m of age. I’m self-supporting. Some things I like to work out for myself.”

“Was I born yesterday? The only time you don’t call me regularly or at least take my calls is when something of magnitude is going on and you’re afraid you’ll tell me more than you want to. That doesn’t happen to us often. And I suspect this is the first time it involved a woman.” Dylan remained stubbornly silent. “So, this is serious?”

He gave a nod but said no more.

“Excellent. She’s very pretty, seems nice.”

“There’s no guest room here, Gran,” he said.

“I’ve made arrangements,” she said. “It happens I have an old friend in the area. You remember Muriel St. Claire.”

He chuckled and just shook his head. “Of course. Muriel lives around here? Why?”