Название | The Family Gathering |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Robyn Carr |
Жанр | Контркультура |
Серия | Sullivan's Crossing |
Издательство | Контркультура |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781474082051 |
In our family, we don’t hide crazy...we put it
on the porch and give it a cocktail.
—ANONYMOUS
DAKOTA JONES PULLED right up to the barn that was now a house, and parked beside his brother’s truck. He left his duffel in the Jeep SUV and went to the door. He stood in indecision for a moment—they had a six-month-old baby. He knocked rather than ring the bell, just in case the child was sleeping. A few moments later, he knocked again. And a third time. Finally the door opened.
“Dakota!” Cal said with a grin. “What are you doing here?”
“I came by way of Australia. It’s a long story—”
“I can’t wait to hear what that’s about,” Cal said. “Want to come in or stand out there awhile longer?”
“I don’t want to wake the baby,” Dakota said.
“The baby is in Denver with Maggie. They’ll be back tonight.”
“That sounds like an interesting arrangement,” Dakota said.
“Like a tug-of-war, my friend. Something to drink?” Cal offered. “Food?”
“A cold beer would be nice.” He looked around. The place was beautiful, but that came as no surprise. Cal’s house with his first wife had been a showplace. Given the way the Jones siblings had grown up, something like a good, solid house that a person was proud to come home to would fill a need that had been neglected when they were kids. Cal put a beer in Dakota’s hand. “The place looks great,” Dakota said.
But Cal didn’t respond to that. Instead, he said, “What were you doing in Australia?”
“I’d never been there,” he said. “I wanted to walkabout. That’s when—”
Cal cut him off with a laugh. “I know what a walkabout is.” He tilted his beer toward Dakota in a toast. “I’ve never seen you with that much hair. On your face and everything.”
Dakota stroked his beard. “I could probably use a trim.”
“Why don’t you tell me what’s going on before Maggie and Elizabeth get home.”
“Well, in Australia I visited one of the Rangers I served with years ago and together we checked in on another one. Then, with some input from them, I hit out on the trail for about a month, seeing some of the country, camping, fishing, practicing the identification and avoidance of snakes and crocodiles—”
“I meant, the Army! You’re out? I knew you weren’t happy there anymore. You said we’d talk about it someday.”
“I