(Ridge)
Hank's sister called two days after we got back from the hospital.
I was in the main room when my phone rang. I didn't recognize the number but I answered it anyway.
"Mr. Dalton," she said. "It's Hank's sister. I'm calling about the funeral. Thursday. Eleven in the morning at Crosswell Memorial."
"We'll be there," I said.
A pause. "All of you?"
"All of us."
"Okay." A beat. "Thank you."
She hung up.
I put my phone away and went to find Dane. Told him Thursday, eleven o'clock, full turnout, no exceptions. Then I went to find Knox.
"I need a jacket made," I said. "Hank's face on the back. His name underneath it. Devil's Reach across the top. Same as ours. Get it done before Thursday."
Knox looked at me for a second. Then nodded. "I'll handle it."
I walked back to our secti
