A Texas Soldier's Family by CATHY GILLEN THACKER Page B

him. “Like...?”
    He escorted her outside. The air was warm and scented with flowers, the sky a clear light blue overhead.
    “Pickled beets. Can’t stand ’em.”
    Hope couldn’t help but laugh. “Me, either,” she murmured, as a yawning Max drowsily watched them both.
    Garrett shortened his steps as they wound their way through the parked vehicles in the emergency services lot. When they reached the car, he leaned in to help Hope get a now-asleep Max into his safety seat.
    “Well, what do you know?” Garrett observed with a tenderness that nearly stopped Hope’s breath. “He’s fast asleep.”
    Hope luxuriated in the shared emotion. It was at times like this that she missed having a daddy for Max, and a husband for herself, the most.
    “No wonder.” Deliberately, she returned her attention to her son. He looked as precious as could be, his long blond lashes resting against his cheeks, his bow-shaped lips working soundlessly. “He wore himself out...”
    Whereas she—and Garrett—both seemed to be running on adrenaline.
    Because it would be easier to talk quietly if she were seated beside Garrett, Hope climbed into the front seat of her SUV. Once again aware of how cozy and domestic this all felt, she asked, “What did your mom have to say when you texted?”
    He squared his jaw and kept his eyes on the road. “She and Adelaide are glad Max is okay.”
    Uh-huh. And what else? Feminine instinct told her that he was deliberately holding something back. “And...?”
    He hit the signal and turned left, which was, if memory served, not the way out of town toward the Circle H.
    “They need more information from the bank if they’re going to figure out where all the money went. The only way to quickly take a look at the cancelled checks, and discover where they were being deposited, is to go to the foundation’s bank in person. So they’re driving back this morning. They left as soon as they knew Max was okay.”
    Or in other words, twenty minutes ago.
    Hope settled back in her seat, not sure how she felt about that. She turned to study Garrett’s handsome profile. “When will they return?”
    “Tomorrow, at the earliest. Depends on how quickly they’re able to get all the data.”
    Aware she hadn’t checked any of her work messages since close of business the previous day—a definite mistake when in the midst of any scandal—Hope pulled out her cell phone. In work mode once again, she bit her lip. “I wonder if we should go back to Dallas, too.”
    “I texted that option while you were feeding Max, back at the hospital. Mom said she would prefer we sit tight. She will call us as soon as they discover anything. But right now her plan is to return to the ranch with Adelaide, and Paul, as soon as possible. And go from there.”
    Nodding, Hope scanned the Dallas news headlines on the internet.
    Garrett slanted her a glance. “Anything?”
    “Six more charities have come forward to say they were stiffed by the foundation. But it’s only a mention.” Hope sighed her relief that the ugly gossip was dying down. “Not the lead story.”
    “Is that good?”
    “It means public interest is waning—for now. It’ll crank back up again as soon as we learn whether the foundation is at fault or not and people begin to react to that.”
    Sighing, she put her phone back in her purse.
    “You need to eat something.” Garrett detoured into a drive-through restaurant famous for its breakfast tacos.
    He ordered two for her, three for himself, a couple of hash brown potato patties, coffee and milk.
    He handed her the bag, then headed back out on the road.
    They ate in the car, knowing that if they stopped for long Max would likely wake. Happily, Max slept for the rest of the ride back to the ranch.
    Together they eased him out of the car, into the bunkhouse and into his bed. Realizing how lucky they were that Garrett had been there to help them, and Max’s health crisis had been so easily resolved, Hope stood a