Holiday Homecoming. Jillian Hart

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competitive.”

      That made him laugh. “Yeah. I spent a year in the Dominican Republic assisting a physician. That year did more to make a man of me than anything. I hope it made me a much better doctor.”

      “I can’t imagine you’re a bad one. Arrogant, maybe.”

      “Hey!” He laughed with her. He liked her, he couldn’t help it. But seeing her reminded him of a time in his life that was complicated. “It’s good to see you. I’m glad you’re doing well.”

      “You, too.” Kristin closed the laptop and focused her full attention on Ryan Sanders. Dr. Ryan Sanders. That was going to take some getting used to. She could still see the spirited young boy inside the responsible man.

      Not that she was interested. So she’d noticed that his left hand was suntanned and ringless. He’d made the effort of renewing their acquaintance. He’d been so complimentary and friendly. Why was she even thinking in this direction?

      Doom. Disaster. She’d never wanted a relationship. She would never lean on a man. She was fine all by herself, even if that got lonely sometimes.

      “Here comes the beverage cart. I’d better get back to my seat now or I’ll be trapped here.” He rose, all six feet plus of him, filling the aisle. “Maybe I’ll see you around town?”

      “Maybe. If I see you on the sidewalk, I won’t run in the opposite direction.”

      “Deal. I’ll try not to run into a store and hide from ya.”

      And he was gone, ambling down the aisle.

      Ryan Sanders. He filled her thoughts as she opened the three-ring binder and flipped up the laptop’s screen. Imagine that, running into him. Had she even heard much about Ryan over the years?

      No, just comments from Mom now and then on how Mary’s son had straightened out his life. Finally. And how Mary was lonely for him.

      Wasn’t loneliness an integral part of life? Troubled, Kristin tried to concentrate on the Myers budget and couldn’t. The numbers on the screen fuzzed, and she rubbed her tired eyes.

      Father, I don’t want to go home. Guilt warred with the other emotions coiling up in her stomach. What do I do?

      She couldn’t disappoint her mom. Mom had been pressuring her since Labor Day, to make sure Kristin would come home. What did you do when home was no longer a refuge? A place that hurt instead of sheltered?

      A sharp pain slashed like a razor in her stomach and had her digging through her bag for the roll of antacids she ate like candy. She loved her parents. She loved her sisters.

      But all her girlhood illusions of family had died along with Allison. Time had not mended the broken places in her heart or in her family.

      How could she go home and pretend nothing was wrong?

      She wanted to see her sisters. Hold her newest niece, Anna, who’d been born in late summer. Gramma would be there. She wanted to see her parents.

      If only there was a way to come home without the pain and sadness…

      The plane dipped sharply to the left, and fear shattered her thoughts. She gripped the armrest. Was her heart really beating that fast? She took a deep breath, her chest pounding. What was wrong? She hated flying. Absolutely hated it.

      What if it was engine trouble? Ice had crusted over the little window next to her. What if there was a problem with ice or something? She tried not to think of horror stories of air disasters. This was how Allison had died, in a plane crash in bad weather.

      “Attention, passengers, this is your captain speaking.”

      Kristin’s ears popped. Were they losing altitude? Before she could unscramble her thoughts to pray, the pilot continued speaking. “There’s a blizzard in Missoula so we’re diverting to Boise International.”

      A blizzard? That was all? They weren’t going to crash? Relief slid through her like ice water. Thank you, Lord. She clutched the small cross at her neck. That was the good news, but a blizzard? What blizzard?

      Sure, it was snowing, but the weatherpeople had promised the snow would be light. Okay, so it wouldn’t be the first time a weatherman was wrong, and this was Montana. Extreme weather happened. But Boise?

      Going home might not be the easiest thing, but she missed her sisters. She didn’t want to spend Thanksgiving alone.

      See? She would have been better off driving, with snow forecasted or not! There was that Murphy’s Law in effect again. Whatever would turn out worse, she had a habit of picking it.

      This will work out for the best. She took a deep breath, willed her tensed muscles to unclench just a little. Right, Lord?

      Right. Everything happened as it was meant to be. So this was simply a safer route than if she’d driven over the pass and right into the blizzard. By going to Boise, they were going around the storm. It made sense.

      She’d just catch a flight when she got to Boise. Surely there would be a few vacant seats somewhere on a late-night flight to Bozeman.

      And if not, she’d just rent a car and drive. The blizzard was in the other direction, right?

      Thanksgiving

      Wrong. The flights had been canceled. The Boise airport was closing down due to the rapidly approaching surprise storm. The blizzard was bringing dangerous conditions to half the cities in northern Idaho and to all of midwestern Montana.

      Great. And if that wasn’t bad enough, there wasn’t a car left to rent in all of Boise. Kristin ought to know. She’d called every place that would answer their phone at 12:06 on Thanksgiving morning.

      There were no hotel vacancies, no motel vacancies and the local bed-and-breakfasts weren’t picking up.

      Definitely a problem. Kristin buttoned her coat and stared at her reflection in the black windows of the airport terminal. What was she going to do? Fat chunks of snow floated to the white ground on the other side of the glass where a single taxi waited along a vacant curb.

      No passengers rushed from baggage claim or hurried to make that last-minute flight. She was practically alone and the security guards were eyeing her suspiciously. The swish of a janitor’s wide mop seemed loud in the echoing silence.

      It looked as if she would miss Thanksgiving at home.

      No sisters. No baby niece to hug close. No roasted turkey with Gramma’s special stuffing.

      On the other hand, she wouldn’t have to face Allison’s empty place at the table.

      But not seeing any of her sisters… Her chest ached with sadness. How could she be sad at completely opposite things at once?

      So, she’d spend this holiday alone. She lived alone. She spent lots of weekends alone. She was used to it.

      Still, loneliness grabbed hard and squeezed. For as much as she dreaded some things, she missed others very much. The way Mom always greeted her at the door, wearing her apron and opening her arms wide for a hug.

      The

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