“Oh.” Could it be that simple? On the other hand... “He’s going out with Grace tonight,” she added heavily.

Hollister knew about that old romance. He had his own issues with a woman he’d loved and pushed out of his life, a woman he still loved after all the years in between, despite what she’d done. If Banks loved Grace, there was nothing Clancey could do but accept it.

“Life happens,” he said finally.

She grimaced. “Yes. Life happens. Thanks for the advice.”

“You’re welcome. Still coming over for Thanksgiving next week?”

“You bet,” she said. “Thanks for the invite.”

“I thought you’d probably be having it with Brenda and Colter.”

“Not much chance of that,” she replied. “He’ll probably celebrate with Grace.” She sighed. “She thinks Brenda is promiscuous because she wears short skirts and she was livid that I was ‘living’ with Colter at his ranch, even though his sister was there.”

“Some people take religion more literally than others.”

“I guess. I go to church, but I think we should live and let live.”

“A good philosophy,” he chuckled. “If you need me, just call. Otherwise, I’ll expect you and Tad on Thursday.”

“You cooking the turkey?” she asked suspiciously.

“What? You don’t think I can cook?” he asked with mock indignation.

“Snake and rats, maybe...”

“Stop that,” he huffed. “I can cook. I’d have starved years ago if I hadn’t learned how. My wife was too busy drinking to do anything in the kitchen.”

“I’m sorry about that,” she said.

“Life happens,” he repeated. “Thursday. Call me if you hit a roadblock. And you’ll need an attorney, too. You’ll have to be appointed executrix of your grandfather and Morris’s estates.”

She groaned. “More expenses,” she said heavily.

“Go see Darrell Tarley,” he suggested. “He’s still a practicing attorney and he was Morris’s potential victim, as well. He’ll probably do it pro bono.” He didn’t add that he was going to call Darrell himself and suggest that.

“Gosh, thanks!” she said with relief. “It’s just so complicated!”

“Not really. It’s a matter of organization. For now, get some sleep. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Okay, Cal. Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Colter, meanwhile, was sitting at a table with Grace in downtown San Antonio, listening to her rave about going back to South America, to the village where she was working.

His mind was on what had happened that afternoon. He was seeing Morris’s throat explode, over and over again, in a horrible slow motion bloody movie in his head.

“You could come with me,” Grace said, dragging him back to the present.

He blinked. “Excuse me?”