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arrangements for its delivery through them.”
    Sam jumped nimbly away, her eyes laughing at him as she put her hands behind her back. “Sloan, she's only three months old! She's too young to be put in a kennel for six weeks while I'm gone.”
    “Aha! I knew there was no Midge involved. Sorry, kiddo, but it won't work. The furball's all yours.”
    Sam made a face. “I knew I shouldn't have tried to trick you. But what am I going to do with her? I've already tried to get Ross or Roxanne to keep her for me, but they both said absolutely not! And Ilka is out of town—she went with Mom and Dad on that trip to Greece. The puppy is just too young to be placed in a kennel for that long.” She sighed. “Of course, if you won't take her, I suppose I'll just have to cancel my trip.” A hint of tears suddenly appeared in her eyes. “It's been such a long time since I've gone anywhere and I've been so looking forward to seeing Tio Ward and Tia Madalena and all the others….” A quiver entered her voice, and she turned her head away, a curtain of dark hair hiding her features. Nobly she said, “It was my decision to breed Gemini, and so it's my responsibility to take care of her offspring. If you won't watch her for me, I'll just forget about my trip.”
    Sloan knew when he was being manipulated, and while he had a reputation as a cold, hard negotiator in business, his family saw an entirely different side of him. He glanced down at the puppy, which had begun to chew happily on one of his fingers, then across at his sister—his sister who he suspected was grinning to herself. He sighed. “All right. I'll
watch
her for you. But I'm warning you, Sam, I want you to pick her up within twenty-four hours of your arrival back in the States. And dammit, I mean it!”
    Tears magically gone, Sam had giggled and bounced over to kiss his cheek. “Of course, that goes without saying.”
    Sloan smiled at the memory, and Pandora gave him another lick on the chin, then jumped back into her carrying case on the other seat of the vehicle. When Sam had returned, there had never been any question of giving Pandora back—as his wily sister had known.
    His sour mood vanquished, he put the key in the ignition, and the engine turned over. Gliding back onto the road, he kept his foot steady on the gas. Since he planned to stay at his cabin in the mountains at the northern end of the valley, he'd better get a move on. He hadn't planned on arriving this late, but that last meeting over dinner at Ross's town house before he began an extended vacation, one he hoped would become permanent, had taken much longer than he or his younger brother had estimated. By the time they'd hashed out all the final details of Ross taking over the reins as CEO of Ballinger Development, it had been near midnight. At almost thirty-two, Ross was well qualified to run their various development deals—he'd grown up in the business and had been Sloan's right-hand man for the past three years. Sloan grinned. If it worked out as expected, both of them were getting what they wanted; Ross got to run Ballinger Development, and Sloan got to devote his full attention to his passion; raising horses. A yawn overtook him. He was looking forward to arriving at his destination—after he'd traveled the final ten, eleven miles of road—the last six of it, winding and graveled.
    Shelly woke the next morning, disoriented and confused. She lay in bed, blinking up at the netting, trying to get her bearings. Then she remembered. She was home. In Oak Valley. And Josh was dead.
    She buried her head in the pillows, wondering how long it would be before she stopped waking up and facing each day with that painful knowledge. From the moment she'd received Mike Sawyer's phone call, it seemed that a black pall had settled over her.
Maybe
, she thought,
once Josh's ashes are scattered.
And today, she reminded herself, was the day she would do that one last thing for Josh. Mike Sawyer was driving up