Lauri Robinson Read Free

circle. Both of them were
laughing up a storm.
    Swallowing a very selfish wish—that it was her in his arms
instead of his sister—Ester stepped onto the porch to pick up the dish towel
Jesse had dropped in his wake, and used it to wipe her hands.
    “Look at you. My baby sister is all but grown up,” Brett said,
setting Hannah back on her feet.
    “Ester said you’d come,” Hannah said, “but when winter set in,
I started getting worried.”
    Brett lifted his head and glanced toward the porch. Ester had
to press her toes down to keep put. “I couldn’t leave the cows in the dead of
winter,” he said, tugging Hannah to his side while still gazing toward the
house—at her. “But I’m here now.”
    It was like pulling teeth, dragging her eyes off him, and then
she saw Jesse step in for a hug from his brother. The three of them stood there,
holding on to each other, and for the first time ever, Ester felt like an
intruder in Brett’s life. That had her throat balling up and her cheeks
quivering.
    She turned, opened the screen door and made her way back to the
kitchen, where she finished the dishes in complete silence. They were grieving
the loss of their parents. She understood that, but she wanted to be with them,
sharing their pain. In her heart, the entire Richards family had been her
family, too. All the years growing up with Brett as her beau had left that
lasting mark on her.
    The widow who died less than a year after Brett had left
appeared in Ester’s mind.
    You’d be a fool to go with him, Mrs. Wilson had told Ester all those years ago. That boy
will get hisself killed out there. Just like my Lester did. Brought me out
here as a bride when Cutter’s Corner was nothing but a wide spot in the
road, and less than a year later, he died, not half a mile from our house,
lost in a blizzard. That’s what’ll happen to you, too. You’ll be out there
in Montana all by yourself. Having to take in sewing, like I did, just to
eat.
    Ester pressed a hand to her forehead, willing the memory to
fade. She couldn’t go with him. Not then, and not now.
    The kitchen was clean, the dishes were put away and the cup of
tea she’d made herself had gone cold when she heard the screen door open and
close. She remained seated at the table, watching the archway to see who had
entered.
    Her heart thrashed about so much it was painful even before
Brett rounded the corner and stopped to lean against the wall. His shoulders
were broader beneath the tan shirt than they’d been five years ago, and his
waist leaner where the gun belt hung low on the hips covered with brown
pants.
    “We need to talk, Ester.”
    She gave a clipped nod. Anger had renewed itself—at how he’d
left her so easily, how he held such little regard for his own life—but the
desire he’d sparked inside her this afternoon with that one kiss was just as
strong and had built into an all-compassing need that had her ready to burst
like a canning jar boiled too long.
    “Jess tells me he graduates next week.”
    Brett had grown, or aged, in other ways, too, and the stern
tone he used increased the resentment inside her. “Yes, he does,” she replied
just as coldly.
    “We’ll wait until after that before heading home. Back to
Montana. I’d be obliged if they could go on staying here. I could take another
room at the hotel, but seeing this has been their home…” He paused, glanced
around.
    “It would be best for them to remain here,” she replied,
wishing she’d added forever.
    “I thank you for taking care of them these past months,” he
said. “I’ll pay you whatever the costs have been.”
    “There have been no costs, Brett.” She stopped before telling
him Jesse and Hannah were family. Chin up, she breathed through her nose,
refusing to admit, even to herself, how he was once again shredding her
heart.
    He straightened, rocked on his heels and slapped his hat
against his thigh. “We’re going to walk up to the hotel and have a piece of