Cowboy Take Me Away by Jane Graves Page B

still didn’t know. His explanation of I was passing through once, liked it, and stayed, didn’t make sense to her. Small town life didn’t seem quite right for him, and he didn’t appear to be much of an animal lover. So what was left to like?
    He flipped the visor back up again and reached into the backseat to grab the bottle of wine he’d brought. “I hope this pairs well with what your mother is cooking.”
    “It’ll be fine.”
    “This is the first time I’ve been to your parents’ house. I want to make a good impression.”
    He took a deep, calming breath, as if there was actually something to worry about. The moment Shannon told her mother she was dating the new dentist in town, she’d been beside herself with delight.
    “You don’t have to be uptight about this,” Shannon said. “It’s just dinner.”
    “Dinner with your mother. Don’t take this wrong, Shannon. But she’s a little…discerning.”
    “Don’t you mean ‘demanding’?” And demoralizing. And depressing. And—
    “She was in the office a week ago for a cleaning. Velma had to go over her teeth twice before she thought they were clean enough. Plus, I’ve heard things.”
    Shannon didn’t have to ask to know what “things” he was talking about. One Christmas her mother had insisted that Mary in the nativity scene in the town square be repainted so her smile would look more realistic. She said Mary wouldn’t have looked quite so happy after the rigors of childbirth, even if it did result in the baby Jesus.
    They got out of the car and started up the walk. “Beautiful house,” Russell said.
    Shannon agreed. She had always loved her parents’ house, from the stately wraparound front porch to the second-story stained glass windows to the turn-of-the-century millwork that accented the peak of every roof.
    “It’s the original homestead of the Danforth estate,” Shannon said. “My parents bought it thirty years ago when Mildred Danforth moved to an assisted living facility in Austin. The homeless animals she was taking care of at the time were the first residents of the shelter. Actually, she once owned all the land that eventually became Rainbow Valley.”
    “I heard she died fairly recently.”
    “That’s right. Just before I moved back here.”
    They went to the door and Shannon rang the bell. Several seconds later her mother opened the door. She wore a pair of gray slacks and a silk blouse, accompanied by just enough jewelry to make a statement without being ostentatious. Her hair was swept into a perfect chignon highlighted by a silver comb, evidence that she’d spent a few hours that day at Tasha’s Hair Boutique.
    Astrid was tucked under her arm looking newly coiffed herself, wearing her usual pink bow and sweet doggy smile. She was an engaging little Pomeranian Loucinda treated like a third child, a perfectly behaved third child who did as she was told, barked only when spoken to, and was quite content to spend most of her days just lounging around looking beautiful. Neither of Loucinda’s daughters, for their own reasons, had ever been the lap dog she’d so desperately wanted.
    “Dr. Morgensen,” Loucinda said, reaching out a perfectly manicured hand. “I’m so glad you could come this evening.”
    Russell took her hand. “Please. It’s Russell.”
    “Russell,” she said with an ingratiating smile. “Do come in.”
    She closed the door behind them, and Russell held out the wine. “This is for you.”
    Setting Astrid down, Loucinda took the wine, admiring the vintage and the label. Shannon’s father, Jerome, came into the entry and shook Russell’s hand, but Loucinda cut that short by shoving the wine at him and escorting Russell into the living room herself.
    When they entered the room, Shannon saw Eve sprawled on the plush Bridgewater sofa, poking away at her iPhone. Her hair, brassy red this week, hung in thick waves across her shoulders. She wore a tie-dyed skirt she’d gotten at a craft fair in