Weddings Collection. Кэрол Мортимер
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I hear your ticket’s for the day after.”
He laughed out loud. “Is there anything you don’t know?”
Her eyes met his. Her tone delved down to the inner workings of his soul, where his secrets lay. “Lots of things, Kevin my boy, lots of things.”
Kevin couldn’t help the smile that rose to his lips. He hadn’t been referred to as a boy since before he’d stopped being one. Even when his parents had been alive, there had been a certain amount of responsibility that had fallen on his shoulders because he was the oldest. He’d assumed it naturally and his parents never attempted to dissuade him, to try to force him to enjoy his boyhood a little while longer.
He missed that now. Missed having carefree memories to look back on.
“You might try talking to the Kellogg boy,” Ursula suggested. “He knows how to fly and he used to work for a transport service before he went to work at the emporium. He might give you some information.”
Enough was enough. It was time to come to Kevin’s rescue. June hooked her arm through his and began to pull him toward the doorway.
“Leave him alone, Grandma. Kevin’s not interested in owning a transport service.”
He wasn’t absolutely sure that was true anymore. Gently he disentangled himself from June. It struck him how very similar she was to her grandmother. And to Lily, for that matter. His sister was going to fit right in here, bossing men around.
“Kevin’s got a tongue and can talk for himself, June-bug,” he told her pleasantly, anticipating the flare that instantly came into her eyes at the mention of the nickname.
June curbed her tongue. He needed to get a couple of things straight, but she wasn’t about to go into them in front of her grandmother.
“I was just trying to get her to back off a little,” she told him, casting an accusing eye toward her grandmother. “She can be intense when she wants something.”
It was hard not to laugh, listening to the pot call the kettle black. “That kind of thing seems to run in the family.”
Ursula took no offense at the comment. Her mind was on more important things. “So—” she leaned forward “—are you interested?”
He thought about it for a moment longer. “I might be. I’m always interested in a good proposition.”
Her grandmother looked directly at her when Kevin said that. June tried to remain unfazed, but she had a feeling that color was creeping up into her cheeks anyway. There was laughter in her grandmother’s eyes as she turned away.
June grabbed his hand. “C’mon, Kevin, I’ve got to see if I can find April and Max.” Her gaze was somewhat accusing as it shifted to her grandmother for a moment. “Someone has to warn them.”
Her grandmother’s voice followed them through the door. “I’m sure you’ll do a perfectly fine job of that, dear.”
June felt utterly drained as she sank down on a chair at her kitchen table.
Not even the music that had greeted her as they walked into the house had heartened her despite the fact that the tune was one of her favorite songs. She was tired and frustrated. It had taken the better part of two hours to track down her siblings.
April was out in the field, taking photographs for a magazine assignment she was currently putting together and Max had been at the Inuit village, trying to quell a dispute over fishing territory. It was a credit to her brother that the Inuit trusted him to come in and arbitrate their disputes, but she hadn’t dwelled on how proud she was of him, of both of them for what they’d become.
Her mind was on other things. She’d wanted them solidly behind her in this.
And they weren’t.
Max took the news the way he took most things—stoically. When she’d told him that their father was back, hat in hand, his expression had hardly flinched and barely changed, although he’d smiled a greeting when he’d seen them approaching. He hadn’t said how he felt about the reappearance, or the plea for forgiveness.
April had been visibly stunned at the news of their father’s sudden return. She hadn’t made any quick declarations about the situation either.
Neither had looked the way she felt. Angry, indignant. And it bothered the hell out of her.
Kevin entered the kitchen behind her. He’d let her have her lead all the way back to the farmhouse after they’d seen Max. June had chosen to sink into an almost deafening silence.
It was time for words. Silence, he’d learned years ago, never solved anything but only served to isolate you.
“You wanted them to react the way you did, didn’t you?”
Her legs straight out before her, she contemplated the tips of her boots. “Yes,” she finally said grudgingly. Was that so unreasonable, to want her brother and sister to feel the way she did? “He left all of us. He broke my mother’s heart.”
He noted that she’d said “my” not “our.” Was it the bond between them that she felt she was now vindicating? Was this a battle for two rather than just one? He decided to take her lead.
For a moment, he dropped down in the chair opposite her, straddling it. “What would your mother have done if she was alive right now?”
The expression on June’s face was disparaging. She knew exactly the way her mother would have reacted. “Welcomed him back with open arms, probably.”
“Why?” he prodded.
Anger flickered in her eyes as she raised them to his face. “Because she loved him. And because she had no self-pride.”
“What if he came back to stay?”
“He didn’t,” she cut in quickly. Her father never stayed put anywhere. At first, there’d been postcards. There’d been no return addresses on any of them, but the canceled stamps had testified to a wide journey. They’d stopped coming after a year. That eventually had led them to speculate that he had died.
“What if he did?” Kevin pressed. “What if he came back for good? Wouldn’t cutting him off like that be cruel to everyone considered? To your mother as well as to him?”
What did he want from her? He was just spinning theories anyway. “I suppose.”
“So, why wouldn’t that apply here?” he asked gently. June looked up at him, confusion in her eyes. “If your father’s come back to Hades to make amends, wouldn’t turning your back on him now be just as cruel to him? To you?”
Restless, she got up, nearly knocking her chair over. Kevin caught it, righting the chair as she shoved her hands irritably into her pockets. “Don’t you understand? I can’t just forgive him.”
“No,” he confessed, “I don’t understand. Why can’t you forgive him? What good does it do to punish him?” And herself, he added silently, sensing how much she was hurting. “It doesn’t change anything that’s happened. Doesn’t bring your mother back. And it only robs you of the present, of the future.”
He was talking to her back. Hands on her shoulders, Kevin turned her gently around. When she resisted, he applied just enough pressure to make her look at him. There was a world of hurt, of confusion in her eyes.
“He’s here now, June, make the most of it. None of us know how much time we have on this earth. We shouldn’t waste it. Enough’s been wasted as it is.”
She looked away, shaking her head, blinking back tears she refused to shed for her father. “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can,” he told her softly. “You’re not a vengeful person.”
Her head jerked up. What gave him the right to make these judgments, to act as if he knew the workings of her mind when she didn’t know