IZABEL
Izabel cozied up on her sofa in the soft, terry cloth robe her friend from the Rosario
Resort had “borrowed” for her. She was painting her toenails and listening to Norah
Jones. Lucas purred and nuzzled his face against her leg. Roasted root vegetables
and pork tenderloin were baking in the oven, and the delicious caramelized smell
filled her house. A deep sigh of contentment escaped her parted lips. It was the
most settled she’d felt in days.
She knew Buck was scheduled to arrive in town this afternoon, but she hadn’t yet
decided whether she would agree to see him or not. She knew he’d be heartbroken if
she said no. But a residual and eerie feeling had continued to haunt her since her
meltdown in the shower the previous week, on the night the Anderson baby had been
born.
