There wouldn’t be any space at the parsonage for a tagalong brother.
At least he’d soon be able to move his horses to the equine center he and a group of investors were renovating. Last week his working-from-home office assistant had submitted the final documents for a permit to board his horses, so at least he didn’t have to worry about that. Just needed to find office space until the facility’s remodel was completed—and a place to throw down his bedroll until a house caught his fancy.
A couple of miles farther on, he pulled into the snowy, graveled lot of a long-abandoned bait and tackle shop. He got himself turned around and headed back in the right direction.
“What was that lady’s name, Uncle Trey?” Mary piped up again.
“What lady is that? The pony woman?”
“No. The pretty one. Who was holding Missy.”
He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “Her name’s Kara Dixon. We went to high school together.”
“Did you kiss her?”
Memory flashed with an accompanying kick to his gut. Yes, he’d kissed her. Once. And fool that he was, a million other times in his dreams.
“Mommy said Daddy kissed her in high school when they were sixteen—on Valemtime’s Day—and then they got married.”
He smiled at her mispronunciation of the holiday.
“How old are you, Uncle Trey?”
“You’re awfully full of questions tonight, squirt.”
“Mommy says you need to kiss a girl and get married so you’ll stay in Canyon Springs.”
“Your mommy—” He stopped himself. Nothin’ he’d like better than to settle down close to “his girls.” That was the plan, but he didn’t want to set Mary up for disappointment if it didn’t work out. No point either in attempting to enlighten a four-year-old on his thoughts regarding the relentless mission of his sister-in-law. Except for the one date he’d managed to pull off behind her back, he’d steered clear of Reyna’s match-making, and females in general, since his return to town.
He didn’t need her hounding him about Kara Dixon. No siree. He wanted no part of the grown-up version of the girl from his past. The gray-eyed gal with a kissable mouth—who’d left him sittin’ high and dry when the cops showed up.
Chapter Two
“Where’d you get this darling little thing, doll?”
“What?” Jerked from her Trey-troubled thoughts, Kara looked up from the breakfast table. Her mother, Sharon Dixon, stood in the kitchen doorway waving the Kenton girl’s pink mitten.
She must have dropped it when she’d hung her coat on the enclosed back porch last night. Or had Mom been rifling through her pockets for cigarettes or other incriminating evidence of misbehavior, just as she’d once caught her doing when Kara was a teen? She cringed inwardly at the memory, thankful that even though their relationship wasn’t always warm and fuzzy, they’d come a long way in the past decade. Or so she’d thought.
“Found it last night. Belongs to one of Pastor Kenton’s kids, so I’ll need to return it.” No need to divulge how she knew who it belonged to. Hopefully Mom wouldn’t ask.
“I may see Reyna this morning. If she’s back from the re treat.” Her mother spoke in the raspy fragments of a former heavy smoker. “Ladies’ tea at the church. I’ll take it to her.”
Over and over throughout the night Kara had waded through possible scenarios of returning it. Of using the opportunity to ask Trey’s forgiveness. But of course her mom could return the mitten. That made the most sense. She couldn’t face the child’s uncle again anyway. How could she apologize without telling him the truth? A truth that she wasn’t free to tell?
What am I going to do, God?
Her grip tightened on the fork in her hand. Why couldn’t stupid choices made in the past be left in the past? And why did she keep wasting her breath, crying out to the Heavens about it? Hadn’t she learned when Dad walked out that God had more important things to deal with than her?
Aware that Mom was watching with a curious tilt to her head, she set her fork on the stoneware plate and glanced out the paned windows of the cozy cinnamon-scented kitchen. A frosty blanket coated the towering ponderosa pines, lending the trees a holiday-ish flocked appearance. But she wasn’t in a holiday mood. A blustering gust shook the powderlike crystals loose, flinging them into the air and sending a fairy dust cascade earthward. Sleet pecked on the window above the sink.
She shivered. Why’d Mom always keep it so cold in the house? “Is someone picking you up for the church thing, Mom, or do you want me to drive you? I don’t want you walking in this. That wind’s nasty.”
“Peggy’s coming by. You should come with us.” Her mom brushed a hand through her layered auburn hair. “Lindi’s giving a talk on community service. I think it’s one of those ‘it’s not what Canyon Springs can do for you, but what you can do for Canyon Springs’ spins. I know she’d love to see you.”
Since returning to town she hadn’t heard a peep out of her once-upon-a-time friend and cousin, Lindi Bruce. Did she know Trey was back?
“Unfortunately, there’s nobody to cover for me.” She folded her napkin and placed it on the worn wooden table by her plate. “Meg’s visiting a hospitalized friend in Phoenix and won’t be back until this afternoon. Roxanne has out-of-town company and asked for the day off.”
“Then give Lindi a call next week. You haven’t had a chance to catch up with any of your friends. Been too busy taking care of your feeble old mom.”
“That’s what I’m here for, Feeble Old Mom,” she teased, then drained the last of her orange juice. “In case you’ve forgotten, if I wasn’t helping you I wouldn’t even be in town.”
Her mother’s lips tightened and Kara’s heart sank. She’d said the wrong thing again. If only she could get along with Mom as well as her friend, Meg McGuire, got along with her. Every time she saw them together, laughing and on the same wavelength, jealousy stabbed. But then, Meg was everybody’s sweetheart.
“Nevertheless,” her mother continued, “with Lindi running for city council, you have lots of catching up to do. She’s a dream candidate, even as young as she is—sure to give Jake Talford a run for his money. Her granddad’s about to pop his buttons. You two girls make your families proud.”
That was debatable.
She stood, then carried her plate and glass to the sink where she rinsed them off. The only time Mom was proud of her was when she was doing exactly what Mom wanted her to do. Like coming back to Canyon Springs.
She glanced at her watch. Seven-thirty. “Guess I’d better brush my teeth and head over to the Warehouse. With fresh snow, the more adventuresome types may look for outdoor activities. Maybe ski rentals will do a good business today.”
“We can hope. The recession’s lingering effects have hit the high country hard.”
Kara frowned. Her mother and an accountant in
