Holiday Homecoming by Jillian Hart Page B

it was a hard road to walk.”
    He fell silent, gazing off into the fields where tender shoots of winter wheat hid beneath the numbing comfort of snow. Like the anguish that Ryan clearly worked so hard to hide. Kristin’s heart twisted so hard it hurt to breathe, and she trained her attention where it belonged—on the road and not on a man’s silent pain.
    She remembered a strong-willed boy who was a little too loud, a tad too reckless. He’d been in the background of her growing-up years, not someone she hung out with. Sure, she’d known he’d lost his dad and that his mom worked a lot. But she’d been a girl herself, and then a teenager too caught up in friends and school and her own family’s loss to have given more than a passing thought to a boy who was nothing but trouble.
    That boy’s pain was in the man, a tangible presence that ached like a festered wound. One that had tried to heal over the years, but could not.
    She knew what that was like. Some wounds couldnever close. Some hurts always ached. Some tragedies changed a person forever.
    She drove in stinging silence until her parents’ house rose up on the road before them, graced by the soft morning’s glow. The ache inside her eased. The familiar sight of the big wraparound porch, the wide old-fashioned windows, the lights from the kitchen where Mom was already hard at work caused emotion to ball in her throat. She was home .
    Ryan broke the silence. “It’s just like I remember it.”
    â€œIt’s always the same. A safe place to come to.” But not an easy place. The tangle of opposing emotions left her feeling conflicted—as always. Mom and Dad’s sadness, their strained marriage, Allison’s loss that was never spoken of. Never.
    And the good things, too: the laughter of her sisters over dinner, playing Monopoly after the dishes were done to the sounds of the football game from the living room. Gramma’s loving presence. Nephews and nieces to hold close.
    She hesitated. A busy day awaited her in the house that loomed over them, casting them in partial shadow. “Will you be all right?”
    â€œSure.” He nodded, but his smile was shallow and didn’t light his eyes. He looked faraway, as if his thoughts were troubled and elsewhere. He looked tired as he swiped his palm over his face. “Thanks for driving, Kristin. You didn’t have to let me sleep.”
    â€œI figured Samantha’s savior deserved some rest. If you hear how she’s doing, will you let me know?”
    â€œSure. I should reimburse you for the gas.”
    â€œOh, no. Consider it my contribution. It’s the least I can do. If you hadn’t come along, then I’d be in Boise right now.”
    â€œLook, there’s your mom.” Ryan saw the woman who’d aged since the last time he saw her long ago. He didn’t know why that surprised him, it was completely logical. Time passed and it changed everyone. But to see the woman who used to be so young-looking with gray accenting her golden hair and her face lined from hardship—he felt it down deep.
    Everyone had hardship. Life had trials, and it wasn’t the bad things that happened but the way a person rose to the challenge that mattered. He had lost a father. Alice McKaslin had lost a daughter. The worry clear on her face turned to relief when she recognized Kristin behind the wheel of the SUV.
    â€œKristin! There you are! Oh, we were so worried!” Alice, still in her quilted housecoat and matching quilted slippers flew down the snow-covered steps.
    â€œDidn’t you get my message?” Kristin asked, hopping into the cold, closing the door behind her as she cut behind the vehicle and out of sight.
    In the side-view mirror, Ryan could see Kristin step into her mother’s outstretched arms. The love unmistakable on Kristin’s face, shining in her eyes, made her glow.
    Family. Yeah, it was