At Home in His Heart Read Free Page A

lot of stuff he wished he could talk to Keith about now. Spiritual stuff. Women.
    But it was too late.
    He turned back to the woman who’d raised him, who knew him better than anybody else did. “Nothing much to say, I guess.”
    She fixed him with a scrutinizing eye. “Are you regretting coming back here?”
    “No.”
    “Awfully small town for such a big man.” She set the pan on the table, pushed both it and a cutting board toward him to indicate he could do the slicing. Then she grasped the arm of the chair as she attempted to pull herself to her feet. Bryce was halfway out of his own chair to assist her, but she waved him off and accomplished it on her own. Shuffled to the sink, still favoring that ankle she’d broken late last fall. “Not a whole lot exciting going on around here for someone who’s lived off an adrenaline rush for fifteen years.”
    “Overrated.” He placed a potato on the cutting board and reached for a wooden-handled knife. He’d had enough of that kind of excitement to last him a good long while. Iraq. Afghanistan. Bad enough he dreamed about it. Woke up in a cold sweat.
    In comparison, firefighting in a tiny town would seem like child’s play. Not that he’d mention that to the fire chief who’d promised to back his application. But nobody in Canyon Springs—you’d hope anyway—would be waiting in ambush when you raced in to put out a fire.
    Grandma turned on the faucet. “Don’t imagine there’s much around here in the way of young single women, either.”
    Sandi Bradshaw’s wide-eyed gaze flashed through his mind. He took aim with the knife and gave the potato a whack. A chunk flew into the air and landed on the worn linoleum floor. He bent to pick it up. “That’s overrated, too.”
    She snorted, and he couldn’t suppress a grin.
    He’d never confided to her the details of his life in themilitary, but undoubtedly she’d filled in the blanks on her own, wise woman that she was. No point in denying it. He’d sowed his share of wild oats.
    And then some.
    Wasn’t proud of it. But what was done was done and now in the past.
    He changed the subject. “Do you want to go to the Memorial Day parade on Monday? I’d be happy to take you.”
    He didn’t much care for parades himself, but he’d dress like a clown and stand on his head in the middle of it if that would make Grandma Mae happy.
    “I’d like that.”
    “Then it’s a plan. So, Gran, what’d you do today?” He sliced another potato—with less gusto this time.
    “Peggy came by and set my hair.” She patted her curlers. “Then I watched a little TV. Did some reading.”
    He had reading to do, too, if what was in the box sitting on his bed was what he thought it was. Grandma had been at him to join the men’s summer group at Canyon Springs Christian Church. But he’d taken one look at the syllabi posted in the fellowship hall a few Sundays ago and decided it wasn’t for him.
    Not that he couldn’t use some help in the God department, but a big chunk of it focused on how to be the head of a household. A husband. A parent. He’d feel out of place among all those married guys. Dads. Grandpas. He didn’t put much stock in what others thought about him, good or bad. But this was different. He’d look downright silly to them. Green as grass.
    It was stuff he needed to know, though, if he was going to be the kind of man he should have become a long time ago. All the stuff Keith kept telling him—and he hadn’t listened. Blew him off. But going to the men’s study would be like a rookie recruit marching out with a bunch of battle-hardened, heavily equipped veterans—without guns and gear. In skivvies even.
    There was nothing to stop him, though, from orderingonline the CDs and workbook they were using. So that’s what he’d done. Ordered a volume on Arizona history, too, just in case Grandma asked what was in the box.
    Yeah, he had a lot of catching up to do. But he didn’t want to think about why, since