15
“Come in,” was the invitation from behind the closed door.
Cole cautiously opened one of the double doors that separated his mother’s private area from the rest of the ranch house. She was lying on top of the comforter that covered the four-poster bed, propped up with pillows as she rested against the headboard. Her robe and matching pajamas, each in a pattern of silky, pale blue and white, and damp hair, told him she had showered and was ready to give in to the tired worry that etched itself across her face. Alice had been brushing her hair, which, despite washing it twice, retained a faint odor of smoke.
Recognizing the determined look in Cole’s eyes, she rested her hands on her lap and sighed. “Have a seat,” she suggested and patted the mattress next to her.
Closing the door behi
