Page 25 of PenPal Hero

“I have no idea why.” Bonnie gave a self-deprecatory sigh. “All I’ve ever done for her is chew gum and answer the phones.”

“And helped her double her sales,” he added. “You’ve taken a lot of the busy work off her shoulders. More than I think you realize.”

“She and I do work well together,” she admitted with a giggle. She fell silent when he turned onto the gravel road leading to her family’s ranch. They passed beneath an ornate log entrance with a large iron Y swinging in the breeze.

“They’re outside. All of them.” Bonnie straightened as he pulled through the circle driveway in front of her parents’ enormous two-story log home. The windows and doors were ablaze with lights.

A middle-aged couple was sitting on the porch swing hanging from the ceiling of the wrap-around porch. Three cowboys perched on the porch railing, and two others lounged against the porch columns. Bonnie’s brothers, he presumed. He pushed open his door and leaped to the ground.

Reaching back in the truck for Bonnie, he lowered her to the ground beside him. They walked hand in hand toward the porch, facing her family together.

“What a surprise, Bonnie,” her mother called out in a bright voice that didn’t match her tear-stained features. She and her husband were middle aged and clean cut. They rose to meet Bonnie and Holt at the top of the porch stairs.

“My parents, Pearl and Preston Yates,” Bonnie intoned politely from the base of the stairs. “Mom and Dad, this is my boyfriend, Holt Winchester.”

His heart sang over her willingness to acknowledge their relationship in front of her family. He hadn’t been entirely sure she would do so.

To their credit, they didn’t so much as flinch. If anything, her mother looked relieved. Though she wasn’t Bonnie’s biological mother, the dark hair beneath her straw Stetson was braided like Bonnie’s. Her willowy figure was encased in jeans and boots like her sons. They were sprawled across the front porch, hanging on every word of the exchange.

Preston Yates jovially shook Holt’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“My brothers,” Bonnie continued in a chilly voice. “You’ve already met Jackson.”

Jackson, who’d been frostily eyeing their joined hands, nodded at Holt instead of saying anything.

Holt nodded back.

Bonnie pointed out her other brothers one by one. “Then there’s Burke, Keller, Sawyer, and Jordy in that order.”

“In that order?” the youngest looking one scoffed. “Only because you saved the best for last.”

“In your dreams, punk.” Jackson pushed away from the porch column he’d been lounging against to give his youngest brother, who’d been perched on the railing, a shove. He toppled into the shrubbery at the base of the porch, but somehow managed to land on his feet. He was howling with laughter as he stumbled his way back up the porch stairs.

When he reached the top stair, he launched himself at his oldest brother. They tumbled to the porch floor, wrestling.

Bonnie rolled her eyes at them, returning her attention to her parents. “The reason I’m here is to ask if I’m adopted.”

Her oldest and youngest brothers immediately stopped wrestling. It grew so silent on the porch that all Holt could hear was the breeze rustling through the evergreen trees around them.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, the nagging thought sprang to the surface that nobody seemed overly surprised by her question. Since the Yates family was embroiled in an ongoing case, did it mean Foster had tipped them off about Bonnie’s visit?

“Maybe we should all have a seat on the porch,” Bonnie’s mother coaxed, half turning away from them.

“I’d rather stay right here,” Bonnie returned tightly. “It’s a simple question, Mom.”

“It’s not a simple answer, sweetheart,” her father cut in firmly. “Yes, you were adopted. I don’t know how you found out, and I can only imagine what you’re thinking, but?—”

“Why?” Bonnie cut him off with the brittleness in her voice. “Why did you adopt me?”

“Because we already had five boys.” Her mother shrugged helplessly. “We wanted a girl. We desperately wanted a girl.”

“When were you going to tell me?” Bonnie’s voice rose accusingly.

“When you got older.” Her mother gave a damp-sounding sniffle. “But it never seemed like the right time. Then you were abducted. After that…” Her voice trailed away.

“Abducted?” Holt gazed around in shock at their gathering. “When?” There was no way Mrs. Yates was referring to Bonnie’s abduction as a small child, since she’d specifically stated that Bonnie had been older at the time.

Bonnie seemed to be having trouble meeting his eyes. “I wanted to tell you, Holt. I-I just didn’t know how. Unlike you, I can’t remember anything about it.”

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