Redwood Bend

saw one of her boys behind the wheel. “Boys!” she called. “What are you doing? ”
The driver stood up from the passenger side of the car and looked at her over the open door, smiling. “They’re all right, ma’am. They asked permission.”
“They’re going to get that car all dirty!”
“Not to worry, ma’am—I keep it clean.”
“Don’t worry, Katie,” Adele said. “Randy’s on top of things. He’s very protective of the car. Now sit down beside me and tell me all about yourself.”
“Prepare to be grilled,” Dylan said, pushing off the rail. “Just because she asks you something doesn’t mean you have to answer.” He went inside the cabin.
“Testy,” Adele said.
“Why is he so testy?” Katie asked.
“I invaded his space. He sent me a text message saying he’d be out of touch for a while and I would hear from him when he’s ready to be back in touch. Well, something like that. I waited as long as I felt like waiting. At first I was worried something had gone wrong with that movie he was considering, but when I called Lang and he said it was probably about a wo—about you, I decided we should meet. And why not? If you’re struggling to decide whether Dylan is worth your consideration, you should have a look at his baggage.” She took a small sip of her tea. “That would be me, Katie. The baggage.”
Katie laughed. “Well, I’m sure he doesn’t consider you baggage at all.”
“At the moment, I’m sure he does. Where are you from, Katie?”
“Sacramento.” She gave Adele a quick run-through of her history. She knew she was revealing more than she’d been asked, but if she were meeting the girlfriend of one of her boys, she’d want to know these things and they weren’t secrets. While she was talking, Dylan returned to the porch with a beer. “The boys and I came here to hopefully settle near my brother. Uncle Conner has always been an involved uncle. I met Dylan on the way into town when he helped me change a flat tire. And we became friends.”
“You haven’t known each other all that long, then?” Adele asked.
“Long enough, Gran,” he said.
“Please, Dylan, I wasn’t being critical!” Adele looked at Katie. “And now you’re very good friends…”
“Adele,” Dylan warned.
“I hope so,” Katie said with a smile.
“Very good friends,” Dylan assured his grandmother. “So, Gran. Just how long can we expect to enjoy the pleasure of your company?”
“Not long, I’m afraid. A few days. A week. Whatever.”
Dylan groaned.
Adele Childress wondered if she should dare even hope that her grandson was finally wising up and settling down with a good woman. Katie Malone was instantly likable. Like Adele, she’d been through some tough times but managed to somehow hold her family together, work and maintain a lovely disposition as far as Adele could tell.
Adele looked out the car window. “Are you sure you know where you’re going?” she asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” Randy said.
“It’s nothing but country out there. Or trees.”
“Yes, ma’am, that’s what it is.”
“Are you mocking me?” she asked sharply.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said.
She grunted.
A little while later he said, “Look ahead. That’s Ms. St. Claire’s house.”
All Adele could see was a two-story farmhouse with some outbuildings around it. There were a couple of lights in the windows and some flickering candlelight on the front porch. When they pulled up the drive to the front of the house a couple of people emerged from the darkness and she recognized Muriel. She was standing beside a man Adele didn’t know. He was a very handsome, tall, silver-haired man with a wide chest and strong shoulders.
This was Muriel in her country incarnation. Adele and Muriel did not share this trait. Muriel liked roughing it; liked to ride, hunt, garden and poke around farm sales and buy antiques. She was one of those do-it-yourselfers while Adele was just the opposite—anything she could throw money at worked for her. And Muriel was wearing jeans and boots. Adele couldn’t remember owning a pair of jeans, even while living in Montana.
Randy gave her a hand out of the car. Randy had been her driver for years, since his wife died a long, long time ago. He was nearly seventy himself, but he didn’t seem it; he was fit and colored his hair, which was still thick and plentiful. He’d never been one for a lot of outdoor sports so his skin was taut, but he had a trim beard.
In Hollywood, seventy wasn’t