Page 6 of Callahan's Haven

Actually, no she didn’t.

“Mrs. Pruitt.” Devon turned her attention to the stove, effectively changing the subject. “Dinner smells delicious. I swear,” she said with a coy look over her shoulder at her father while running a hand down her slender hips, “I think I put on at least five pounds after each meal.”

Haven tried not to roll her eyes, while ignoring the up and down appreciative look her father gave Devon.

“I don’t see it,” he said, winking at Devon before smiling at Haven. “So, are you just going to stand there, or are you going to give your old man a hug?”

“If I must,” she said, with a put-upon sigh, and then took the few steps needed to be enveloped in his strong arms. She took in a deep breath and smiled, but wrinkled her nose at the overpowering scent of the flowery perfume Devon favored.

“I’m glad you’re home, sweetheart,” he whispered while kissing the top of her head.

“Me too, Daddy.”

“Okay, everyone,” Mrs. Pruitt said, waving her spatula in a shooing motion, “everyone out of my kitchen while I raid the freezer.”

* * *

“Why does Sunday always have to come so fast?” Haven muttered, putting the last of her clothes in her bag and setting it by her bedroom door. But it had been a good visit, starting with Thursday night’seclecticdinner and lively conversation—at least between Haven and her dad.

From Devon? Not so much.

Oh, she’d been friendly enough. Although Haven could have done without the knowing smiles the woman had thrown at her father throughout the meal, or the tight-lipped looks she’d covertly given Haven when her dad wasn’t looking. She couldn’t say she’d been disappointed when Devon had made her excuses to leave not long after the meal—with her bag.

As usual, her father had been vague about the whole Devon thing.

“You know Devon could’ve stayed, right?” she’d said after he’d come back inside after alongtime spent telling the other woman goodbye and sat down with her in the den in front of the fireplace.

“No. It’s fine,” he’d told her, relaxing back into the overstuffed couch where they’d watched the fire dying out. “She had an early morning meeting anyhow.” He’d put his arm around her and chuckled. “Besides, who’s my best girl?”

“Dad—”

“Yeah, yeah. I know.I’m not a kid anymore.” He’d patted her shoulder. “Humor me. I’m old.”

“You aresonot old,” she’d said, laughing. “Do you know how many of the girls in my dorm want copies of the picture I keep of you in my room?”

“Honey, I’d rather not know.” He’d leaned back and looked at her with one side of his mouth kicking up in a half-grin. “As you would say, that’d skeeve me out.”

She’d let out a short laugh and laid her head on his shoulder. “Yeah, I get it. But anyhow, about Devon—”

He’d given her a little squeeze. “Baby, no one is ever going to take your mother’s place.”

And that was it. It was all she’d gotten out of him—all she’devergotten out of him.

She should have known better than to try. Her dad was a professional when it came to manipulation and evasion. Not only had he led some kind of intelligence squad for the final five years of his military career, he’d continued the same work in civilian life as a contractor through the State Department after Haven had started college. So, ferreting information out of him was usually a lesson in futility.

It didn’t mean she wouldn’t keep trying though.

Anyhow, no one had brought up the subject of Devon again over her stay—not while Haven had spent Friday canning homemade apple butter and her favorite pear jam with Mrs. Pruitt, or all day Saturday out four-wheeling and open range shooting with her dad.

It had actually been kind of nice.

Haven put on her jacket and gave her room a once-over to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything.

All right. It’s time to go.

She left her room and headed downstairs. “Dad. I’m about to leave,” she called out when she reached the bottom step, and then frowned when he didn’t respond.

Where was he?

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