Circle Eight Millennium: Lazarus by Beth Williamson Page B

trotted up to Bea and nudged her palm with his snout. She crouched down and scratched him behind the ear.
    “Hey there, Bear, what are you up to today?” Her voice was sweet and melodic. Damn, he wished he didn’t know she could sound like that. It put all kinds of ideas in his head he didn’t need to think about right about then.
    “You know him?” Laz watched the dog, his canine tongue lolling out at the attention from a pretty girl.
    “He was Rose’s birthday present about five years ago. Can’t hunt worth a damn but he is loveable.” She straightened up with one last pat for Bear.
    The dog sniffed at Laz’s pants but made no move to befriend him. It was just as well. He was there as a ranger only, not as a welcomed visitor.
    “If I’d known there was to be a party, I’d have baked a cake.”
    Laz turned to find his father on the front porch. The elder Graham had aged in the last ten years. His formerly thick, dark hair was nearly completely silver. Lines bracketed his eyes and mouth and the sun and wind had turned his skin into a honey-colored leather. His eyes were the deep blue-green color looking back at everyone with the arrogance and strength he had in abundance.
    Physically he looked the same. Big with wide shoulders and big hands. Laz resembled him in many ways, especially in the inability to have an honest conversation with each other.
    “Pa, I’m here on official business.” Laz was pleased his voice was steady although his heart was beating against his ribs like a bass drum.
    “I see.” He gestured to the car behind him. “I heard you were a ranger, but that doesn’t look like a cop car.”
    “It’s unmarked.” Laz held the flyer up. “I need to ask you about the business expo you hosted last year.”
    His father put his hands on his hips and narrowed his gaze, then looked at Bea. “Good morning, Beatrice. I didn’t know you were on terms with Ranger Graham.”
    “Mr. Graham.” She stepped up beside Laz. “He’s investigating the break-in at the store. That’s why we’re here.”
    “Bad business, that,” his father replied. “Sorry to hear about it.”
    “Thank you. Now, if you have a few minutes, the ranger has some questions.” Beatrice sounded calm and reasonable while Laz wanted to howl.
    He could almost feel the disappointment coming off Pa in waves. Why shouldn’t he be? Laz had never been the son he could and should have been. No, he’d been a wastrel and selfish asshole.
    “I was just sitting down with some coffee. You can join me.” His father turned and went back into the house.
    Bea raised her brows, her turquoise glasses shining in the bright sunshine. He gestured with his hand for her to precede him up the front steps. It was time to enter the lion’s den.
    Laz would rather face down a loaded gun.
    Beatrice could see the tension in the ranger’s jaw and expression, which were tight and harder than granite. This was a reunion that had been ten years in the making. She almost felt like she was standing on railroad tracks while two trains hurtled toward each other at breakneck speed.
    One of the Graham men needed to ease up on the throttle, but it wasn’t her place to tell either of them that. She was glad she was there, and not because they might get a clue to the identity of the perp, but because although he wouldn’t admit it, Laz needed her there.
    It made her feel good about herself. She spent so much time struggling to keep the store solvent, Bea had little left over for herself, her personal life, or even her sex life. The last couple days with Laz had been eye opening and reminded her she needed to live and not just exist.
    Now it was her turn to pay it forward and remind him of the same.
    The inside of the house was a huge great room that had been constructed similarly to the original house on the property, which sat half a mile away. No one lived there any longer due to the lack of electricity and indoor plumbing, but the Grahams kept it up.
    The