right now she was watching him, waiting for an answer, those great, big, sad eyes pinned to the side of his face. Yeah, there was a story there, no doubt. Not that he was about to get sucked in. Because he’d come home to get his head on straight again, not get all snarled in someone else’s.
“They didn’t do anything, okay?” he finally mumbled. “Like you said, they’re great people. It’s just we don’t see a lot of things through the same lens.”
He sensed more than saw her frown before she leaned into the corner between the seat and the door—at least as much as the seat belt would let her—her arms folded over her stomach. Thinking, no doubt.
“So what’s different now?”
“Do you even consider what’s about to pop out of your mouth before it does?”
“Probably about as much as you’ve considered their reaction when you show up out of the blue. And with your dad’s heart condition—”
“First off, people keeling over from shock only happens in the movies—”
“Not only in the movies.”
“Mostly, then. And second, Dad’s not at death’s door. He never was, as far as I can tell—”
“And how would you know that if you haven’t been there?”
“Because that’s what he said, okay? For crying out loud, I did talk to him, or Mom, or both, every day at the time. I’m not totally out of the loop—”
“Even if you prefer to hover at its edge?”
If it hadn’t been for the gentle humor in her voice—and something more, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on—he would’ve been a lot more pissed than he was. “They told me not to come home, that it wasn’t necessary. And my reasons for returning now...” He briefly faced her, then looked away. “Are mine.”
“As are your reasons for not giving them a heads-up that you are. Got it.”
“You’re really aggravating, you know that?”
Her laugh startled him. “Then my work here is done,” she said, clearly pleased with herself. Because the chick was downright bonkers. Story of his life, apparently.
“Look,” he said, giving in or up or whatever. “If you’ve been around my family for more than thirty seconds you know they can be a mite...overwhelming en masse.”
Another laugh. “I noticed.”
“So if I’d called my brother and told him I was coming, you can bet your life the whole gang would be at the Vista to welcome me home.” His jaw clenched. “Maybe even the whole town. I know what I’m about to face, believe me. But I’d at least prefer to ease back into the bosom of the clan on my own terms. At least as much as possible.”
“I can understand that.”
“Really?”
“Like you’re the only person in the world who has issues with their family?” she said quietly, not looking at him. “Please.”
The sign for Whispering Pines flashed in the headlights, and Colin turned off the highway onto the smaller road leading to the tiny town. Emily shrugged more deeply into her coat; the higher they climbed, the colder the night got. But the air was sweet and clear and clean. And, Colin had to admit, welcoming.
“It’s the space, isn’t it?” she said, shattering his thoughts.
“Excuse me?”
“Why you’ve come home. Same reason I’m here now, I suppose. To stop the—” She waved her hands at her head, then folded her arms again. “The noise. The crowding.”
The impulse to probe nudged more insistently. He’d assumed she was only there to visit, like people did. Normal people, anyway. Or to attend Zach’s wedding, although that wasn’t for weeks yet. Now, though, questions niggled. Maybe there was more...?
And whatever that might be had nothing to do with him.
“Hadn’t really thought about it,” he muttered, ignoring what had to be a doubtful look in response. Shaking her head, Emily dug her phone out of her purse, only to heave a sigh and slug it back inside.
“No signal. Jeez, how do people even survive out here?”
“Same way they have for hundreds of years, I imagine.”
A soft grunt was her only reply. Thank God. Although Colin had to admit, as wearying as her poking and prying had been, the silence was far worse, providing a far-too-fertile breeding ground for his own twisted-up thoughts. Because despite the universe’s insistence that this is where he needed to be right now, he’d be lying to himself if he didn’t admit this felt an awful lot like starting over.
Or worse, failure.
A dog’s barking as they pulled into the Vista’s circular driveway shattered the silence, although Colin barely heard it over his pounding heart, the rush of blood between his ears. Beside him, Emily gathered her giant purse, then gave him what he suspected was a pitying look before grabbing the door’s handle.
“I don’t envy you right now,” she murmured, then shoved open the door and got out. By now her cousin and his brother were out on the oversize veranda. Even in the screwy light he could see confusion shudder across both their faces.
“You’ll never guess who I ran into in the airport,” she said, and Colin realized he had two choices: show himself, or turn right around and pretend this had all been a mistake. Except the flaw with plan B was that, for one thing, Emily’s luggage was still in the SUV. And for another, she’d rat on him.
So, on a weighty sigh, Colin pried himself from behind the wheel and faced his little brother, who immediately spit out a cussword that would’ve gotten a good smack upside the head from their mother. Two seconds later, Josh was pounding the hell out of Colin’s back, then grinning up at him like a damn fool.
“Holy hell, Col,” he said, his eyes wet, and Colin did his best to grin back.
“I know, right?” he said, feeling heat flood his cheeks before he glanced over to see Emily wrapped tightly in his new sister-in-law’s arms, bawling her eyes out.
“So how come you didn’t say anything?”
Standing at the sink in the ranch’s ginormous, Southwest-kitsch kitchen, Emily set the now-clean Dutch oven in the drainer, pushing out a sigh for Colin’s question. Not that she’d been able to eat much of the amazing pot roast, especially after embarrassing the hell out of herself earlier. But her cousin’s keeping dinner warm for her—well, them, as it happened—had been a very sweet gesture. Because that was Dee.
Wiping her damp hands across her butt, Emily turned, now unable to avoid the scowl she’d ignored—more or less—all through the late dinner. Even from six or so feet away, Colin’s size
