The Ashtons - Cole, Abigail & Megan

for a while?” he asked.
    “Sure.”
    When they’d dismounted, they ground tied the two horses and walked over to sit beneath a grove of oak trees at the water’s edge.
    “What about you, Russ? Have you always lived in Napa Valley?”
    He lowered himself to sit beside her on the carpet of grass. “No. Until I was fifteen, I lived about a hundred and fifty miles north of here, on a ranch outside of Red Bluff.”
    “I’m so sorry about your parents,” she said, placing her hand on his arm. “Mercedes said that you lost them in a car accident.”
    The warmth of her hand through his shirtsleeve, and the sincere tone of her voice, caused a tightness in his chest. “That was eleven years ago,” he said, nodding. “Lucas brought me here right after Mom and Dad’s funeral, and I’ve lived here ever since.” They sat in silence for some time before he asked, “What about your parents, Abby? I’ve heard you talk about your brother and uncle, but I’ve never heard you mention your mom and dad.”
    “That’s because there isn’t a whole lot to talk about.” He could tell it wasn’t a pleasant subject for her.
    “I’m sorry,” he said, wishing he’d kept his mouth shut. “I didn’t mean to pry.”
    He watched her pluck a blade of grass and shred it into strings, then toss it aside and pluck another. “I don’t mind talking about it, exactly,” she finally said. “It’s just that it’s rather embarrassing to have to tell someone that your mother was the town tramp and you have no clue who your father is.”
    Russ wasn’t sure what he’d expected her to say, but it certainly hadn’t been that. “That’s a pretty harsh thing to say about the woman who gave you life, honey.”
    “But it’s the truth.” She didn’t look at him when she continued, but he could tell she was embarrassed by the heightened color on her cheeks. “Grace was sixteen when she got pregnant with my brother, and eighteen when she had me. But she never would tell our greatgrandparents or Uncle Grant who our father—or fathers—were.”She sighed. “That in itself is no big deal. But Grace made sure we knew that she didn’t want us. She always told us that if our great-grandparents hadn’t insisted that she stay and take responsibility for us, she’d have left Crawley as soon as she found a way out.”
    “Your mother and uncle were raised by their grandparents?” Russ had never known anything but love from his parents, and it was hard for him to grasp that a woman had been so callous toward her own children.
    “My great-grandparents finished raising Grace and Uncle Grant after their mother, Sally, died of cancer,” Abby said, nodding. “They were twelve.”
    “I know from experience that losing a parent isn’t easy,” Russ said gently. “It can bring out a rebellious streak in some people.”
    “That might have been the case if Grace had been someone else, but I can never remember a time when she acted as though we actually meant anything to her.” She shrugged one slender shoulder. “Uncle Grant told us that she was just like their father, Spencer. He’s narcissism personified, and so was his daughter.”
    “You talk about her like she isn’t around anymore,” Russ said, reaching out to take Abby’s hand in his.
    “She isn’t.” She stared off across the lake. “Grace abandoned me and Ford when I was six and he was eight. But we were lucky—Uncle Grant loved us and finished raising us as his own.” Her fond smile was evidenceof how much she loved the man. “He’s always been more of a father to us than an uncle.”
    The more Russ heard about Grace Ashton, the more he understood why Abby didn’t like talking about her. “Where did your mother go?”
    Abby’s laughter held little humor. “Who knows? She went to the store one day and just didn’t bother coming home. We’re almost certain that she ran off with a sales representative who made frequent visits to the Crawley General Store.”
    “Do you know his name? Maybe if you find out where he is, you’d be able to track her down.”
    “His name is Wayne Cunningham, but that’s about all we know.” Brushing a strand of hair from her porcelain cheek, she turned her gaze back to him. “Uncle Grant checked with the company Wayne worked for, but that was a dead end. They were looking for him, too. It turns out that he disappeared at the same time as Grace, and without bothering to turn in the money from his latest sales.”
    “Real