by Diana Palmer
The doctors discovered a minor lesion in Meadow’s brain that accounted for her clumsiness. There actually was a physical reason for it, and a treatment. Knowing that it wasn’t a brain tumor or something likely to kill her made it bearable. It stemmed from the concussion she’d had in her teens, an accident that she’d never realized would have such far-reaching repercussions.
Dal worried about her job in law enforcement. He never asked her to quit, but she knew him very well. Her clumsiness could lead, so easily, to tragedy under the wrong circumstances. So she had a long talk with the sheriff and the district attorney. And soon afterward, she had a new job.
By the time their son, Teddy, was a toddler, Meadow was comfortably working as an assistant district attorney, having put away her badge and gun for a future less dangerous and more satisfying than the law enforcement career she gave up. The following year, she gave birth to a second son, whom they named Seth. Their ranches combined to form one huge conglomerate, with Dal at the helm. So she and Dal lived happily ever after on a ranch in Colorado, with their sons, and Snow and Jarvis—and a few thousand head of cattle. And celebrated many wedding anniversaries at Christmas. Meadow finally had her snow man . . .
