Free High Hurdles by Lauraine Snelling Page A

her that. “Darlin’, this is Joe Crowder.”
    “Well, Darla Jean, I certainly am glad to meet you.” The voice fit the man. He took up half the living room, or at least seemed to. Shoulders straight and square like a military man’s, a crew cut gone silver, and cerulean blue eyes.
    “I’m glad to meet you, too. Mom said you like horses.”
    “You’ll have to meet my best friend sometime. His name is Major. I’ve ridden him in the San Francisco Mounted Patrol for the last ten years.”
    “What’s he like?”
    “Thoroughbred-Morgan cross. Sixteen-three. He has to be big to carry me. White stripe down his face, two white socks. He’s a blood bay, the prettiest red you ever saw when the sun glints off his rump. Even has a scar on his right shoulder where he took a bullet meant for me.”
    “Really?”
    “You ever watched the mounted patrol in action?”
    DJ shook her head.
    “Then I’ll have to take you and Melanie to watch one of our drills.”
    DJ almost looked around the room for the Melanie he’d referred to. “You mean Gran?”
    “Dinner’s served.” Lindy stopped in the doorway.
    DJ rolled her eyes so only Gran could see. The look clearly said what she thought of the formality. But when Joe Crowder tucked Gran’s arm in one of his and angled out his other elbow for DJ to do the same, she went along with it. Who was this guy, anyway?
    She was wondering even more by the end of the meal. He’d had them all laughing at his tales of life in the mounted patrol. And the stories about his family. He had three kids, two sons and a daughter. The daughter had two children, including a girl who was only a year older than DJ.
    “Robert, my oldest, is a widower like me. He has five-year-old twin boys.”
    “That must have been really hard.” Gran reached across the space and laid her hand on his.
    “It was. To lose two women in our family in one year.” He sighed. “I can’t wait for you to meet them. I know they’ll like you . . .” He cut off the sentence, but his eyes said the rest.
    DJ dropped her fork. She’d read about talking with your eyes before, but now she was seeing it in action. The way those two were looking at each other usually meant a love scene coming up in the movies.
    She glanced at her mother. Lindy wore a sappy look that said she was happy with the whole thing.
    “Can I be excused? I . . . I’ll clear the table.” Anything to get out of here.
    “I’ll help you.” Mom pushed her chair back, too.
    The other two in the room didn’t even seem to notice.
    A cold hand slipped over DJ’s heart and squeezed.

Chapter • 10
    “That was disgusting!”
    “I don’t know, I think they’re kind of cute.” Lindy opened the dishwasher door.
    “Cute!” DJ spun around, catching a plate before it slid off the counter.
    “Shhh, keep your voice down or they’ll hear you.”
    “Cute. Gran and a man she just met are making goo-goo eyes at each other and my mother thinks it’s cute.”
    “Careful, you said you’d wash the dishes, not break them.” Mom took over the sink detail. “You finish clearing the table.”
    “I can’t go in there again.” DJ clamped her hands on her hips.
    “Darla Jean Randall, for pete’s sake, grow up!” Lindy’s voice changed from teasing to angry. “We’ve had a very nice time tonight, and I don’t want to see you ruining it. Your grandmother is entitled to a little love in her life.”
    “She had Grandpa.”
    “And he died ten years ago. She has spent the last ten years taking care of you and me.”
    “She has her art, you know. And her garden and books and church and . . .” DJ let the words trail off.
    “And you. If I’d been a better mother, she wouldn’t have had to spend her life raising her granddaughter.”
    “You said it, I didn’t.” The words popped out before DJ could trap her tongue. She headed for the dining room. Sometimes retreating made more sense than fighting.
    There was no one there. DJ drifted over to the