Finding Home by Marie Ferrarella

might impair his keen reflexes.
    He’d needed the drink to unwind, but he made it a policy never to drink when he was angry. He’d seen his father do that. Had seen the man’s temper flare, turning him into a man he didn’t recognize. He’d vowed never to let that happen to him. He never wanted to be threatening to Stacey the way his father had been to his mother that one time.
    He shook his head in disgust. “Titus always was a weird bird, having you travel all that way, only to come back with a mangy animal.”
    â€œHe’s not mangy,” she said defensively. Brad looked at her sharply. She ran her hand over the dog’s head. “He was better taken care of than a lot of people I know.” If telling him aboutthe dog was hard, this next part was going to be even worse. Because she had to shut him out. “And Dog wasn’t the only thing Uncle Titus left me.”
    Brad spun around on his heel, alert. Listening for strange sounds. “What? Is there a chimpanzee in the bedroom?”
    She frowned at the flippant question. She’d thought he was serious. “No—”
    Brad cut her off, pointing to the far left. “A giraffe in the garage?”
    She braced herself. “He left me money.”
    Brad frowned again, disgusted. “What, to buy dog food with?”
    Stacey paused, pressing her lips together. “Not exactly.”
    Something in her tone caught his attention. Brad eyed his wife. “So how much was it?” When she made no answer, he crossed to her. “More than a couple of thousand dollars?”
    â€œYes.”
    His eyes held hers. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking.
    â€œHow much more?” he asked.
    Stacey built on the word her husband had handed her. “Much.”
    Sums of money began to bounce around inside his head. No one knew exactly how much money Titus had, but the man had owned an island. Brad stopped to stare at her. “Define much. ”
    Maybe it was childish—okay, it was childish—but she didn’t want to tell him how much just yet. “How would you define much?”
    â€œTwenty-five thousand.” He drew closer to her. “Am I right? He left you twenty-five thousand dollars to take care of the dog?” The thought seemed incredulous to him, butpeople were strange when it came to their pets. It was getting on in years, there were going to be vet bills. At least this way, the animal wouldn’t cost them anything to care for.
    Stacey took it one layer at a time and peeled away. “No, Uncle Titus didn’t leave me the money to take care of the dog.” She took a breath. “And it was more than twenty-five thousand.”
    His patience was in short supply and ended abruptly. “Stop playing games, Stacey. How much did your uncle leave you in his will?”
    She raised her eyes to his. “Ten times that.”
    Startled, Brad widened his eyes. “Your uncle left you two hundred and fifty thousand dollars?” Stacey nodded. Brad’s voice dropped an octave, becoming almost a whisper. “A quarter of a million?”
    Again, she nodded.
    And saw Brad smile for the first time since he’d entered the house ten minutes ago. The greeting he’d been about to utter then had been swallowed up when Rosie had come bounding over to greet him, closely followed by her newfound friend, Dog. The call for an explanation had come immediately, followed by what could only be referred to as a less-than-friendly interrogation.
    But now there was a smile, a genuine smile. Money was not Brad’s king, but it definitely existed within the royal family.
    Brad placed both hands on her shoulders, as if to hold her still, even though she hadn’t moved a muscle. “Let me get this straight. Your uncle left us a quarter of a million dollars?”
    â€œYes.”
    Brad pulled her into his arms and hugged her. Hard. Andbriefly. When he released her, his brain