The Daddy Quest by Lori Handeland

Author:Lori Handeland
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2003-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

DEAN STOOD on the porch and listened to the cows lowing in the pasture, watched the stars wink brightly at the night and waited for the peace such things had always brought him in the past to arrive.

He waited in vain.

The farm was everything to him. From the moment he could walk he’d followed his father—to the barn, the pigpen and the fields. He’d learned to gather eggs at the age of four, feed the cows before he was ten, drive a tractor by the time he was twelve. He could milk at dawn, make hay all day and milk again at dusk without complaint. Because he belonged here; he’d always known it. Still did.

In the past whenever he couldn’t sleep, all he’d had to do was come outside and breathe the fresh air—for several hours. Dean sniffed.

It was fresh all right.

He scrubbed a hand through his close-cropped hair. What was the matter with him? He should be as happy as a pig in shit—one of his father’s favorite sayings, and a darned good one if you knew any pigs. Dean had updated the farm. He was running it his way. The Luchetti place was the most modern facility in three counties.

So why did he feel so empty?

Dean fished a cigarette out of his pocket, then glanced around the empty yard. If his mom caught him his ass would be grass. She’d just gotten his father to quit after a love affair with nicotine that had lasted over forty years. If she saw her son taking up the habit, she’d lose what was left of her mind.

Shaking his head, Dean struck a match. He was twenty-nine years old and worried that his mommy might catch him smoking. No wonder he was miserable.

The screen door opened behind him, and he blew out the match, then sneaked the cigarette back into his pocket. No reason to beg for trouble.

But when he turned, Tim stood behind him dancing in the moonlight. “Take it to the end of the porch, kid, before you wet your pants.”

He did. Seconds later the sound of liquid hitting the bushes made Bull, or was it Bear, yelp and start up from the shadows beneath the porch.

“Sorry,” Tim whispered, or at least attempted to. A true whisper appeared beyond him.

The dog leaped up the steps and butted Dean’s hand with his head. “Hey, Bull,” he murmured. “Where’s your pal?”

Dean’s gaze searched the darkness. He gave a sharp whistle. But Bear did not appear. He cursed lowly.

“Whassa matter?”

Tim patted Bull on the head and received a face full of saliva as a reward, before the dog curled up at Dean’s feet and closed his eyes.

“Bear’s gone again.”

“So?”

He wasn’t sure how to explain to a kid of five or six that when a boy dog made a habit of disappearing it often meant there was a girl dog in the vicinity. With Bear, that was what it always meant.

There were enough puppies with spots in and around Gainsville to fill a small pet shop.

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