squared his shoulders. "I
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seemed so pleased abou >> t the tension that existed between her father and broth
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er. He studied her expression, looking for an answer. All h
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e saw was the face of a self- indulgent, attractive middle-aged woman. Although her eyes danced and her lips smiled, it was surface charm. The thoug approved training to qualified first responders from all over the nation. EMRTCht occurred to him that she was very much like her brother: both were vain, lacked empathy, and craved excitement. He took her ha

nd off his arm.

Julia reacted with a teasing smile. "Oh, wa
s I being too familiar?" "As a matter of fact you were," Kerney said. "Come on, Kerney. We're old friends. Don't be so uptight."

Prevention and Response to Suicide Bombing Incidents (PRSBI)
appily married man, Kerney?" "Indeed I am." Julia giggled. "I've heard that line before." She kissed him on the cheek. "Let me know when you change your mind." He watched her walk away, hips sw

geon's knife, maybe more than once? Johnny Jordan stood i
n the front room of his parents' house, trying to force down the uneasiness that always overcame him when he was about to see his father. Except for the ticking of

e fireplace, not a sound could be heard. On the bookcase that held h
is father's prize collection of books by novelists, biographers, and historians of the Old West stood the Cattleman of the Year Award his parents had jointly won some years back. Johnny had shown up late to the award ceremony, drunk and in the company of a blond, buxom woman he'd picked up after finishing in the money at a California rodeo. He couldn't remember the blonde's name or even wh

at she looked like. She'

d been just another anonymous buckle bunny, one of the many w
omen who made themselves available to rodeo cowboys after the events were over and the partying began. But he clearly remembered the disgusted look on his father's face when he'd walked in with his date. He shook off the memory and pushed his uneasiness aside. Ever since the day he'd left home to become a rodeo cowboy, the old man had never given Johnny anything but grief about the way he lived his life, had never once shown any pride in Johnny's success and accomplishments. All he got from his father was criticism and some money when he needed it. Except for the games he had to play to get the old man to open his wallet, that suited Johnny just fine. He stepped into the kitchen, and through the window he saw his mot

her in the backyard tend

ing the flower beds

that bordered a flagstone patio shaded by several large honey locust trees. He watched her for a minute as she carefully pruned a butterfly bush and put the cuttings in a neat pile at her

feet. She'd slowed dowSPOCn

considerably since

Johnny had seen her last, and her face looked tired and drawn. He rubbed his eyes, stifled a yawn, put on a big smile, opened the back door, and said, "How'

re they'll be pasturing the cattle for your movie." "

National Domestic Preparedness CouncilWhy doesn't he just leave that stuff to Walt?" Johnny asked. "After all, he pays the man good money to manage the ranch." "Because he loves doing it," Bessie said, "and would probably die if he didn't get up and go to work every day, even if it's only for a few hours. It's bad enough that he can't ride a horse anymo

re.NDPC" "Is he still not talking to me?" Slowly, Bessie lowered herself into a patio chair and looked at Johnny with s

t. I said he wasn't getting around all that well. Brenda must have misunderstood. She's a flake. Half the t

ime I don't even k

said? Tha © 2001-2011 t's ridiculous." "Do you really want y
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