“Hey, boss, what’s up?” he said, knowing it would be Lance Treethorn on the other end of the line.

The widowed father of three young girls, Treethorn had his hands full with trying to run the ranch and raise his daughters to be proper young ladies. He’d succeeded with the oldest. Janey was as prim and proper and dutiful as a father could ever want, but the two younger ones, ten and twelve, were terrors. Cody didn’t envy the thirty-five-year-old man trying to get them raised and married without calamity striking.

“We got the herd rounded up today,” he told Lance. “We only lost one more to the cold.”

“Thanks, Cody, but I didn’t call for an update.”

Something in Lance’s voice triggered alarm bells. “What’s wrong?” he asked at once. “Are there problems with the girls?”

“No, it’s nothing like that. We’re all fine, but you had a call here at the house.”

“I did?” He’d given the Treethorn number only to Jordan, with a direct order that it never be used except for a dire emergency. He knew his brother would never break that rule. His heart thudded dully as he waited for whatever bad news Jordan had imparted.

“Call home,” his boss told him. “It sounded pretty urgent. Your brother asked how quickly I could get a message to you. Obviously Jordan still doesn’t know you have a phone in your cabin.”

“No,” Cody admitted, grateful that his boss had never asked why he insisted on having such a buffer between him and his family. Lance was the best kind of boss, the best kind of friend. He was scrupulously fair. He lent support, but never asked questions or made judgments. There had been no hint of criticism in his voice when he’d commented just now on Cody’s decision to keep his private phone number from his family.

“I’m sorry he bothered you,” Cody apologized anyway.

“You know damned well it’s no bother. I just hope everything’s okay at home. Give me a call if there’s anything I can do to help.”

“Thanks, Lance.”

Cody hung up slowly, thinking of the tiny picture that he’d placed in his wallet only moments earlier. Had something happened to Justin James? Or to Kelly? Why else would Jordan call? Damn, but he hated being so far away. What if... He allowed the thought to trail off.

“Stop imagining the worst and call,” he muttered out loud, finally forcing himself to dial his brother’s number, knowing that this call, whatever it was about, would shatter whatever distance he’d managed to achieve from his past.

Jordan picked up on the first ring. His voice sounded tired and hoarse.

“Hey, big brother,” Cody said.

“Cody, thank God. I was worried sick you wouldn’t get the message for days.”