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COUPLE OF HOURS LATER he had a rounded booty that was completely Valentine. Okay, so he still needed to work on the rest of the body, but the reclining piece had legs that flowed sweetly into a curving backside. The knees lay against each other in a position that was feminine and yet somehow sexual.
    He liked the feeling of clay between his fingers, he decided, and the satisfaction of creating something from mere dirt. “Sweet,” he said. “Not too shabby for a beginner.”
    Beyond the curving posterior, he needed a torso and head. But he’d think about that later. For now, the piece that had been teasing his brain was complete.
    He covered his artwork and headed down the stairs. His passion had finally been lit again. His creativity was stoked after many months of lying quiet, like a banked fire. This could not be taken from him. None of his brothers sculpted. If he moved his lair somewhere else, everything would be perfect. He could work in total peace and quiet, without his brothers’ do-drop-in interruptions.
    Speaking of interruptions… He was almost out the door when he saw Last waving at him. “Great,” he said, “here comes Mr. Father’s Day himself.”
    Last jogged over and gave Crockett a pop on the arm. “Where have you been?”
    “In none-of-your-business-land,” Crockett said pointedly. “Are you writing a book?”
    “No. Do you have a second?”
    “Is it a second in real time, or Last time?”
    “Real time.” Last looked at him. “I’m sorry about yesterday. I don’t know what got into me.”
    Crockett sighed. “You’re forgiven.”
    “I know you mean the best for Annette and Valentine. I shouldn’t have gotten weird.”
    “Whatever. Thanks.”
    “Okay.” Last perked up. “Brothers?”
    “Brothers.” They pounded each other on the back once, then Crockett headed off. He could understand what Last meant about being weird about Valentine. Even after sculpting her curves, Crockett was having a hard time forgetting about her.
    “Uncle Crockett! Uncle Crockett!”
    Kenny and Minnie ran over to him. “How’s my best kids?”
    They hugged him, and the tension he’d been feeling melted away.
    “We’re good. We want to go to town. Can you give us a ride?”
    “Where’s your father?” Crockett asked. He was being wooed for something for sure.
    “Painting something,” Minnie said. “We need to run an errand for Mom.”
    In the distance, he could see Olivia working Gypsy. Barley stood nearby, leaning against the post, every once in a while gesturing some instruction. Next to Barley was Mimi’s father. Now that the sheriff was on the mend, Barley dragged him out to the ranch from time to time.
    “Your mother doesn’t have any idea you’re trying to weasel a ride into town,” Crockett said. “So what’s up?”
    “We want a cookie,” Kenny said. “And we want to go to the hair salon. We heard that Ms. Lily adopted a stray.”
    Crockett sighed. Strays and cookies on a warm summer day. “I can play hooky for a bit,” he said. “Load up.”
    “Yippee!” They ran off to tell Olivia where they were going, and Crockett headed to his truck.
    Actually, a cookie sounded good—if it was from Baked Valentines.
     
    V ALENTINE WAS SURPRISED when Crockett walked into the bakery with Kenny and Minnie. He was tall and handsome, and the kids loved him, and the whole scene—of a big cowboy corralling constantly moving kids—made her smile.
    She loved living in Union Junction. She adored being part of the Jefferson family, even if it was an extended part.
    “What’s up, Crockett?” Valentine asked with a smile.
    “They dragged me into town for a cookie.” He leaned against a wall while the kids stared eagerly into the glass case. “You painted this place.”
    “I did.” Valentine was pleased he’d noticed.
    “I like the soft blue,” he said, glancing around approvingly.
    She smiled. Of course Crockett would notice everything. He was supposedly a wonderful artist. “And I