Free Homecoming Ranch by Julia London Page A

accusatory tone. “Same here,” she said. She didn’t add that she hadn’t heard anything about her father, either, until a couple of weeks ago.
    “Isn’t this exciting?” Libby said again, looking between the two of them. “I mean, how often is it that you find out you have a
sister?”
    “Never,” Emma said and stood up from the railing. “Leave it to Dad to omit that detail.”
    Dad.
That casual reference did not escape Madeline’s notice. It suggested Grant Tyler wasn’t just a sperm donor to them, he was a
dad,
just as Madeline had assumed. A tiny bubble of resentment pressed against Madeline’s thoughts, making her head hurt worse.
    “Come in!” Libby said. “Come in, come in, I have so many things to ask you!” She hopped up on the porch steps as Madeline moved carefully in her pumps on the gravel drive, watching the garage in case the dogs renewed their interest in eating her.
    “So you live in Orlando, is that right, Madeline? Do you go by Madeline? Or do people call you Maddie? I knew a Madeline once and she went by Linny.”
    Madeline couldn’t even begin to explain how far removed she was from a Linny. These questions, fired at a rapid clip, in a cheerful manner, made Madeline feel uncomfortable and exposed. Outside of her bubble as Trudi would say. Moreover, she was mystified and a little alarmed that she should feel so panicky. Control freak, yes, she was definitely that, but she didn’t generally
panic
.
    “It’s Madeline,” she said. “And I live in Orlando.” Was that the question? She stepped up on the porch, noticed the sag in the steps. The roof looked old, and she could see evidence of rot around a couple of window frames.
    “Have you always lived there?” Libby asked. “When I heard about you, I wondered if you were from there, or moved there?”
    “I’ve always lived there.” Madeline didn’t think this meeting was supposed to go this way. She thought surely there would be some introductions, some facts presented. She didn’t think she would be questioned on the steps of the porch.
Order
—that’s what Madeline needed. But for once, Madeline’s curiosity won out over her need to shelter herself. “And you’ve lived here?” she asked, gesturing vaguely around her.
    “Mostly,” Libby said.
    Madeline could picture Libby here in this charmingly quaint house in the mountains. She could picture her swinging on the tire swing, or standing at the window and watching it snow.
    “When I was little,” Libby said, “I lived in California for a while with Emma and her mother.”
    Whoa.
Well that was a curve ball tossed out of left field—
Emma and her mother.
Did that mean there were
three
mothers? Good God, Grant was a serial monogamist! Hell, she didn’t know
what
the man was. “In California—with Grant?” Madeline asked carefully.
    Libby paused on the top step next to Emma, who was casually studying Madeline. “Is that what you called him? Grant?”
    Among other things, Madeline thought wryly. “I didn’t really call him anything,” she said with an uncertain shrug.
    “What do you mean?” Libby asked.
    “I didn’t know him.”
    “Ever?”
    Madeline resisted the urge to rub the nape of her neck. “I never met him. I mean, there was once, when I was a toddler. But I don’t really remember anything about it.”
    “Sounds fishy,” Emma said.
    “No it doesn’t!” Libby said, looking horrified by Emma’s remark.
    But Emma’s gaze flicked over Madeline, lingering on Madeline’s briefcase before lifting her eyes to Madeline’s face again. She said nothing, but turned around and walked inside without a word, letting the screen door bang shut at her back.
    Madeline looked at Libby.
    Libby gave her an anxious smile. “Just ignore her. She may not be the warm and welcoming type, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t like you.”
    “It doesn’t mean I do, either,” Emma called matter-of-factly from inside the house.
    Madeline suddenly felt like the