Blackbird Lake by Jill Gregory Read Free Book Online

thanks to the lofty ceilings and wide open, flowing floor plan.
    Way too big for one cowboy. Even one with a dog.
    But he didn’t expect to be spending too much time here this week anyway. He had too much catching up to do with his family, not to mention tracking Brady down and hauling the kid back in line.
    So after showering in the upstairs master bath, changing into clean jeans and a blue and gray flannel shirt, he fed Bronco—only a temporary name for the dog, he told himself, just until his niece and nephew came up with something better—then made sure all the lights and plumbing worked everywhere before taking off again. He pointed his truck north toward rolling foothills and the Farraday place.
    Sure, Bronco was curled on the passenger seat of his truck like he’d been there all his life, but that didn’t mean Jake was planning to keep the mutt.
    It just didn’t seem right to leave him alone in that big house—not right away. From the looks of it, this dog hadn’t had anyone looking after him in quite a while, if ever, and he had to have some abandonment issues. Which was why Sage Ranch, with Sophie and Rafe and the kids around most of the time, was the place for him to light. Someone was always around; he’d have Tidbit and Starbucks to play with and never a lonely moment.
    Hell, speaking of lonely…
    Jake frowned as he turned onto the rambling drive leading to the Farraday home. It could have been a setting for a sad, spooky painting about desolation.
    The clearing where the small frame house squatted was quiet. Too damned quiet. There was no sign that Brady was anywhere around. No sign of his Harley or any other vehicle. No windows seemed open, there wasn’t a light on, and not a sound came from the remote clearing surrounded by a lone treehouse and a scattering of cottonwood trees and pines.
    Only silence. Except for the faintest rustling of leaves.
    The sun slid lower in the September sky and a lone hawkwheeled lazily as Jake stared at the Farraday place. The small frame house, shed, and garage seemed to stand watch over the clearing like three tired old gray soldiers.
    Jake remembered the flowers Cord’s mom used to meticulously plant all around the ranch house. Roses, he thought, and some kind of big yellow flowers, bright and happy looking. All spring and summer, Mrs. Farraday was out there working on her garden.
    He took the old porch steps two at a time, knocked on the door he remembered from his teenaged years. He rang the doorbell, but heard no sound from within. He wondered if the bell was broken. There was a missing floorboard on the porch. Not a good sign, considering Brady was a wizard with tools and carpentry and had built that tree-house for himself and his friends when he was only twelve years old.
    “Brady! Open up!” His fist hammered the door.
    More silence.
    Checking the shed and peering through the windows of the garage, he determined that both were deserted. He called Brady’s name one more time. And heard nothing.
    “Guess, I’ll have to catch you later. Don’t think for a minute this is over,” he muttered under his breath as he started up the engine and swung the truck around, back up the drive. A new option popped into his head.
    He knew just where he was headed after his visit with Travis and Mia and the kids, and his supper at Sage Ranch.
    He’d call ahead to Denny McDonald and get the ball rolling on his new project. Considering the scope of it and the good it would do, he was pretty sure he could persuade Denny to rehire Brady, give him another shot. Then he’d reel the kid in when he caught up to him.
    Jake had no intention of taking no for an answer. Whether he liked it or not, Cord’s brother was going to quit throwing his life away and do some good in Lonesome Way.
    Just as he swung out of the drive and back onto the road, a beat-up old Silverado passed him from the other direction and turned in toward the Farraday place. Jake had only aquick glimpse, but he