important, but he wasnât looking forward to the price of it. He loved his mom. Heâd do anything for her. But he couldnât look anywhere without seeing the past. Even the fields where heâdworked long and brutal days in hundred-degree heat bringing in hay for Mr. McKaslin brought memories flooding back. He dreaded the drive back to town, where he would see more of the past, more of the boy heâd been. More of the turmoil and pain heâd worked so hard to leave behind.
While mother and daughter were still holding on to each other and exchanging greetings, he climbed out and grabbed her computer case and bag.
âWhy, Ryan Sanders, is that you?â Alice McKaslin noticed him trying to slink past.
Heâd wanted to avoid the gooey mess of female emotions if he could, but no such luck. So he faced the teary-eyed females with a manâs courage. âItâs me. Itâs good to see you, Mrs. McKaslin. Happy Thanksgiving.â
âWhy, happy Thanksgiving to you! Your mom has been talking of nothing else for weeks. Sheâs baked every last one of your favorite treats, I hope you know.â
âI figured she would.â He froze, knowing what was next, but he couldnât do anything to stop it. Mrs. McKaslin released her daughter and came at him next, her arms outstretched, to give him a hug. âWhat on earth are you two doing together?â
âItâs a long story. Iâm sure you can get Kristin to tell you. Iâve got to get home. Momâs probably worried about me. I was supposed to come in last night.â
âCome here and let me hug you, young man.â
âOh, I wouldnât do that if I were you. I havenât shaved. Showered. Been deloused.â
âOh, you can still make me laugh.â Refusing to backdown, Alice came at him and wrapped him into a kindly hug and, being a self-reliant man, he endured itâokay, it was nice. Alice was like a dear aunt to him when heâd been growing up. He brushed her cheek with a brief kiss as he moved out of her embrace.
âYouâre more handsome up close than in those pictures your mom shows me. You donât see her enough, young man.â
Standing behind her mother, Kristin winked at him. âGo easy on him. Heâs a busy, important doctor and the only reason Iâm here and not snowed in at Boise is because heâs a good guy.â
âYouâre not so bad yourself, Miss McKaslin.â The way both women were looking at him, as if heâd hung the moon and lit the stars, made him itchy.
He was uncomfortable with looks like that. With anyone getting too close. Heâd gotten used to being alone. That was why Francine had returned his ring last September. He didnât need her at all, sheâd said.
It was time to go. He let Alice lead the way to the front door, ignoring Kristin when she gestured for her bags. He was a lot of things, but he tried to use his manners when he had them. And what Kristin had done for him, in letting him sleep, he appreciated more than she could ever know. She looked as exhausted as heâd felt before getting some shut-eye, and he didnât mind at all carrying her bags into the house and depositing them at the top of the stairs.
âYou didnât have to do that.â She looked at him as if she appreciated the gesture. âBut thank you.â
âNo problem.â The delicious aroma scenting thehouseâapple and pumpkin pies, frying bacon and the roasting warmth of a baking turkey made his stomach growl loudly. He blushed. âSorry about that.â
âWould you like to stay? Breakfast is in the works. Eggs and bacon and pancakes and sausage. Real homemade hash browns.â
âI canât tell you how good that sounds, but Mom would box my ears. Iâd best get home. Sheâs waiting for me, and Iâm late. Iâm probably in trouble. Wow, I havenât said that since I was
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