A Winchester Homecoming. Pamela Toth

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A Winchester Homecoming - Pamela  Toth


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now.” Head high, she walked toward the exit, the fingers of one hand wrapped tightly around the strap of her shoulder purse as she left him to struggle with her luggage. Served him right for thinking she was a clotheshorse.

      As soon as she’d taken a dozen steps, her burst of bravado was replaced with a new wave of exhaustion. Feeling dizzy, she sank gratefully into an empty chair and let her head fall back.

      “What’s wrong? Are you sick?” David demanded as he caught up with her and dumped her bags to the floor.

      Opening her eyes or answering was too much of an effort, as was shaking her head.

      “Stay here,” he ordered her in a bossy tone. “Put your head between your knees if you feel nauseated. I’ll find you some water.”

      Panic swirled around her. “No!” she finally croaked out, forcing open her eyes. Relieved to focus on his concerned face. “Don’t leave me.”

      She hadn’t meant to say that. Biting her lip in self-punishment, she watched his expression change from concern to something more difficult to read. Angry tears over her slip blurred her vision, but she blinked them away and glared up at him.

      Immediately he squatted down next to her chair, his gaze level with hers as he took her hand in his larger, stronger one. His warmth was a welcome surprise. She was so cold, always cold.

      “Your hand is like ice!” he exclaimed.

      She pulled away from his loose grasp. “It must be the air-conditioning in here. They always overdo it.”

      “Actually, it’s fairly warm,” he contradicted. “When’s the last time you had anything to eat?”

      “On the plane.”

      He leaned closer. “Kim, what’s wrong with you?”

      She wondered if he realized it was the first time he’d called her by name since she arrived.

      “I cut my hair several years ago,” she said, hoping to distract him with a reply to his initial question. “It was just too much of a nuisance, and long hair’s gone out of style on the coast.” It wasn’t really true, but he wouldn’t know that.

      She’d hacked it off to pay back Drew for being overly friendly with a short-haired paralegal in his office. He’d been furious and he had, of course, retaliated against Kim’s rebelliousness. Besting him, however briefly, had nearly been worth it, even though she’d never worn the yellow diamond pendant he’d eventually bought her as a peace offering. It had gone into her jewelry drawer, along with several other nice pieces she had acquired under similar circumstances.

      Nor had she ever grown her hair long again, despite Drew’s insistence. But of course she didn’t tell David any of that while his unreadable gaze stayed on her like some kind of laser.

      “Water would be nice,” she said when he didn’t comment. “Chilled, if you don’t mind, and bottled, not tap water.”

      He straightened, a shutter sliding down over his expression, and tugged at his hat brim in a gesture she figured was more mocking than polite. “I’ll be right back. Stay here with the bags.”

      She watched him walk through the crowd, his long strides eating up the distance to the nearest vendor, as if he couldn’t get away from her fast enough.

      Well, why should he be any different? she asked herself silently on another trembling note of self-pity. What was there about Kim Winchester Sterling for anyone to like or admire?

      As usual, not one thing came to her tired mind.

      After Kim had gulped down the chilled bottled water David brought her and surprised him by stepping out of her ice-princess role long enough to thank him, he escorted her out to the car. She had spurned his suggestion of a wheelchair and he, in turn, had refused her offer to help with her bags. As he stacked two of them and hiked the strap of the third on his shoulder, she dug sunglasses out from her purse and slipped them on like a shield to hide behind.

      “I’ll bet the weather seems different from what you’re used to,” he said conversationally as he wheeled the largest bags behind them.

      “I grew up here, remember?” She pressed her lips together and turned away, as if she regretted her comment.

      “I haven’t forgotten,” he replied. He might have said more, but instead he let the silence hang between them for a moment. When she didn’t lift her head, he shifted the bag on his shoulder and kept walking.

      On the drive back to the ranch, he thought she might ask about her father or their mutual half brother, Jake, who was nine, and sister, Cheyenne, eight, or the rest of her extended family, but she didn’t.

      “The old church on Dammer Road burned down,” he volunteered, his gaze on the road ahead. “They’re rebuilding already, brick instead of wood this time.”

      Her response was a noncommittal hum in her throat as she looked out the window. Frustrated, David fell silent. She had grown up in Elbert County, but if she wanted news, she would have to ask.

      Traffic wasn’t especially heavy and the road didn’t demand much of his attention, which left him free to speculate about the reason for Kim’s visit, her first in several years, and to wonder about the absence of a wedding ring. Perhaps she had lost it or was having it repaired or just didn’t wear one. Unlike some women with successful husbands, she wasn’t flashing a lot of fancy jewelry.

      Back in school she had been a pretty girl with a warm smile and a budding figure. Now her face was all cheekbones and angles, big green eyes behind the tinted lenses and a scar she kept touching with her fingertip. Slim tan pants and a long-sleeved pink shirt made her look thinner. Her short hair bared her neck and ears.

      He’d stuck his tongue in her ear once, but she had squealed and pulled away, embarrassing them both. He liked to think his technique had improved since then.

      She’d had issues when he’d known her before, rebelliousness against her father’s strictness, possessiveness of the only parent she’d known up till then and jealousy of David’s mother. He had figured Kim found what she had needed in Seattle, but now he wondered.

      For a woman who had it all, she seemed more brittle than content, and she looked tired. Remembering how she had once bothered to search behind his own prickly shell, he tried again.

      “Did you know that Cornell Hobbs and Bonnie Gill finally tied the knot?” he asked. “They’ve been together since high school, so it was no surprise.”

      When she didn’t answer, he glanced in her direction, expecting to see her staring out the side window with a bored expression. Instead her head had tipped forward. Her eyes were closed, her full lips slightly parted, and the rise and fall of her breasts was slow and regular.

      Apparently, his fascinating conversation had lulled her right to sleep.

      The gentle bumping of the car across the cattle guard at the entrance to Winchester land woke Kim from a jumble of dreams. She took a deep breath and sneaked a glance at David, but he was looking at the Appaloosas grazing in the near pasture. Whenever she saw a horse with the breed’s distinctive markings, she thought of her father and the ranch.

      “You okay?” David asked as he slowed to allow a Jeep to pass from the other direction and returned the driver’s wave.

      Her first reply was a rusty croak, so she cleared her throat and tried again. “Yes, I’m fine. Thanks for meeting my plane.”

      “No problem.”

      They passed a traditional two-story farmhouse, painted light blue with fresh white trim. The backyard jungle gym was new, as was the weather vane on the roof. The familiar riot of brightly blooming pots and hanging baskets on the wide front porch was a testament to Aunt Rory’s green thumb, but the driveway in front of the matching garage was empty.

      Kim was relieved that they didn’t have to stop and say hello


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