Adam could only stare at his brother. He’d never had that kind of camaraderie with their father. Their conversations had been about school grades and how well or poorly Adam was doing on the sports fields. Trying to get himself back under control, he lowered his voice. “You wouldn’t really go after Kelly, would you? She’s years older than you and she’s about to become a veterinarian.”

Robbie stood up. “Five years, four months, one week and two days. That’s the age difference.” He turned away, lit a cigarette, then looked back at his brother. “You go to far-off Africa to take care of kids, but you ought to look at people around here. Kelly Exton will probably marry that half-wit stepson of Dr. Carl. She’s afraid that if she doesn’t, she’ll piss off the doc. If that happened, she wouldn’t have a vet job around here. Then she’d have to go somewhere else, which means she’d have to leave her mom. Mrs. Exton won’t leave the farm but she can’t run it by herself. Vera is running away with you, so Kelly would have to stay here in Mason. And do what? Take on Vera’s job at the travel agency? Give up her animals? Might as well rip out her soul.”

Adam was surprised that Robbie knew so much about Vera’s kid sister. “I get it. It’s a stack of building blocks. If Kelly doesn’t marry Paul, everyone’s expectations of life will be destroyed. But she is going to marry Paul. Vera told me so yesterday. You need to stay out of it!”

Robbie gave his brother a cold look. “You never see past whatever you want, do you? You and Dad had a fight, so you ran away. And now you come back and give us orders of what to do with our lives. Then you plan to leave again. Tell me, who died and made you king?”

“Dad,” Adam said before he thought. It was too flippant.

Robbie’s anger increased. “You think you are fit to take his place? That it’s your birthright? You haven’t earned any rights around here. And as for Kelly Exton, I like her. A lot! And I have the money to open a clinic for her. Screw Dr. Carl and his loser son. That guy would sell Kelly for a bag of apple tree branches.”

Robbie smashed his cigarette in an ashtray. “Oh, hell. It’s no use talking to you. Go back to Africa, where they make you feel good. Don’t get involved with us.” He stormed up the stairs and slammed his bedroom door.

Adam fell back against the big desk chair made of leather and carved oak. He and Vera used to call it “Burke’s throne.”

“He rules the world from there,” Vera had said.