Beloved Wolf Read Online Free PDF Page B

then slid her long legs to one side and stood, looking at Sophie with Sophie’s own huge brown eyes. “Well, so you are,” she said, motioning toward the metal cane in Sophie’s left hand. “Is that going to be around for much longer? I mean, really, it’s so…medical. Couldn’t you find something nicer?”
    â€œIt’s good to see you, too, Mom,” Sophie said, giving in to her fatigue and sitting down on the matching chaise. She kept her head down, so that the curtain of her hair slid forward, covering her cheek.
    â€œDon’t be snide, Sophie,” Meredith told her, sitting down again herself and taking hold of her martini glass. “Or hasn’t it yet occurred to you that you’re twenty-seven years old? Old enough to move to San Francisco. Old enough to be out on your own, just as you wanted to be. You wanted to be independent, and I let you be independent. But, obviously, for all that independence, you’re still not so grown up that you couldn’t insist that your doting daddy jump up and run when you wanted him.”
    Shock made Sophie lift her head, and she watched in horror as Meredith’s eyes widened at the sight of the scar. She raised a hand to her jaw, but it was too late, because her mother had seen everything there was to see.
    Meredith’s upper lip curled in distaste. “Not bad? That’s what your father said. The scar wasn’t bad. Doesn’t the man have eyes in his head? Oh, you poorthing. How are you going to manage, being so horribly disfigured like that? And your father says you sent Chet away? That wasn’t smart, Sophie. How do you expect to get another man with that ruined face? I really think you should— Where are you going? Is this how you were raised? How dare you walk away while I’m speaking to you. I’m your mother! ”
    But Sophie had gotten to her feet as quickly as she could and was already hobbling back toward the house, wondering what on earth had possessed her to come home. Whoever had said it had been right: You can’t go home again.
    At least not to Hacienda del Alegria. The House of Joy?
    No, not anymore.
    Â 
    River walked back to the stables after watching Joe’s car drive past, seeing Sophie’s form in the passenger seat.
    So. She was home. Healing, but not quite mended. And without a diamond on her third finger, left hand.
    Not that he was going to do anything about that, could do anything about that.
    Besides, it might only be temporary, some sort of emotional fallout from the mugging. Joe had told him how sensitive Sophie was about the cut on her face, how she refused to see that the scar was fading every day, growing less obvious to everyone but her.
    If nobody mentioned the scar, made a big deal about it, Sophie would probably soon be able to deal with the thing, put it behind her, look forward to the surgery that would finish the job the doctor had begunand her healthy body had taken from there. After all, her knee was already so good that the J-brace and crutches were gone.
    She’d been in physical therapy in San Francisco almost from the beginning, and now that she would soon be putting aside her cane, the therapy could begin in earnest, building up muscles grown weak from disuse.
    Sophie was fine. Fine. And she was going to be even better.
    River told himself that every night. She was healing. She was back with her family, who would do everything in their power to help her heal. She’d soon be his own laughing, happy, optimistic Sophie again.
    Please, God.
    River busied himself in the tack room, making up excuse after excuse not to leave the stables, not to head up to the house. See Sophie.
    She’d be too busy for him anyway, with everyone else crowding around, hugging her, kissing her, welcoming her back. Why, he might even take dinner out here with the boys rather than go up to the house for the evening meal. That wasn’t so unusual; he did it