Sheridan's mother enveloped her in a tight hug, giving Michael the opportunity to take in the sight of the two women. Sheridan's mother stood a little shorter and stouter than her daughter, and gray streaked her golden curls, but she had the same cheerful expression, the same sunny smile.
Sheridan's father entered the room from a side door, still bundled in a coat. He cast a suspicious eye Michael's direction. Sheridan clearly got her height from him, but little else. Deeply tanned, his complexion rather resembled Michael's, though far more rugged from long hours in the sun. Salt and pepper hair and harsh, steel-gray eyes completed the weathered appearance.
This is not a man to be trifled with, Michael thought grimly.
Sheridan disengaged herself from her mother's grasp and embraced her
