The rooms were large, the ceilings high, and the art on the walls original and highly collectible.Over the years Kerney had frequently invited Clayton and his family to visit, but they had accepted only once. At Grace’s urging, they’d phoned and been persuaded to come for dinner on the last evening of a long weekend visit to the state capital and several of the nearby pueblos. Although Kerney had repeatedly invited them to stay at the ranch, Clayton, not wanting to impose, had booked the family into a budget motel on Cerrillos Road.Patrick had just turned a year old at the time, so it had been a good two and a half years or more since Clayton had stepped over the threshold into Kerney’s house. He put his luggage on the floor and shook Kerney’s outstretched hand.“Welcome,” Kerney said with a warm smile.Clayton nodded. “Some weather out there.”“It’s a humdinger of a storm, and desperately needed.”Clayton removed his leather jacket and draped it over his luggage. “I hope it heads south to Mescalero.”Before the two men could say more, Patrick scooted between them, stopped in his tracks and gazed up at his half brother.“You’re Clayton,”
