Home To Family. Ann Evans
territory when warmth and closeness had led to a kiss. They’d barely skirted disaster that cold, January night. At the last minute they’d managed to pull back from going any further, laughing nervously with the unspoken knowledge of how close they’d come to ruining everything.
In all the years since then, they’d never spoken of that evening. Happily, the bond between them had remained strong and pure and immutable.
She glanced back out the window as she drained her wineglass. It was snowing a little harder now, soft and silent, and so inviting. Why did anyone stay inside when there was that kind of beauty to be enjoyed only steps away?
She knew that some of Doc’s guests would curse the sight of it as they left, complaining as they tugged on coats and scarves and made their slow, cautious way home. Perry would be one of them. He hated the drive back to Denver, even in good weather, and tonight the roads could be troublesome.
But she loved the snow. So did Matt. At least, he always had when they’d been kids.
Where was he right now?
Over the murmur of conversation, she heard a hard, harsh bark of amused laughter. It had to be Bob Gunderson, the president of Broken Yoke’s only bank. Everyone called Bob “Heimlich” because of his penchant for telling jokes that always ended with a laugh that sounded as though he was trying to expel something from his throat.
She caught sight of Perry standing by the fireplace, nodding as Heimlich finished his story. From the glazed look on Perry’s face, she suspected he was wishing himself anyplace else. Poor man. She supposed she ought to rescue him.
Except she didn’t want to go back to her place, toast the season, and open up some ridiculously lavish Christmas gift from him that would embarrass her. Perry wasn’t perfect, but he wasn’t stingy, and he was sure to have gotten her something completely inappropriate given the status of their relationship.
In some ways he was so like Matt. Handsome. Generous. Confident. So energetic sometimes that he took her breath away. And goal-oriented. He lacked Matt’s easygoing ways, his charisma, that core of genuine compassion that had made a career in medicine almost a foregone conclusion.
But so what if Perry wasn’t Matt D’Angelo? she thought with sudden stubborn rebellion. Why should he have to be?
In spite of a little boorish behavior this evening, he was still one of the most attractive, interesting men she’d ever dated. She should take him home, open a bottle of her best wine and…see what developed.
Leaving would, of course, disappoint half the single women in this room tonight. Just like Matt, Perry attracted attention from females the way honey enticed bees.
Maybe it was a good thing Matt hadn’t shown up. Two such potent, available males at one party, and who knew what might happen? Over the years she’d watched so many women try to catch Matt’s attention, sometimes with embarrassing results.
Leslie cast one last, long glance around the room. Another few minutes of polite conversation and then she’d wander over to Perry. No point in staying, really. Somewhere along the way, the evening had lost its magic.
Why hadn’t Matt made a concerted effort to come tonight?
CHAPTER TWO
MATT D’ANGELO had been the only one on the flight from Chicago who wasn’t upset about their late arrival in Denver.
He’d always considered himself a patient guy, unflappable. That ability to focus and remain calm in the face of confusion and crisis had made him a star during his residency and brought him accolades in the operating room. But this new willingness to suffer delays due to the weather, the airlines, the traffic, and finally, the girl at the car-rental counter with the speed of a baffled snail—this was a pretty sure sign that he really hadn’t wanted to make this trip after all.
True, he’d been eager to get away, tired of coming under the microscope of the powers-that-be at the hospital, tired of getting pep talks from his occupational therapist. Most of all, tired of having to reassure well-meaning friends and associates that he really didn’t mind spending Christmas and New Year’s Eve alone.
Just tired.
So when his parents had pushed him to come home for a visit, he’d allowed himself to be talked into it.
Now he wished he’d said no. The family, as supportive as they’d always been, would probably smother him with their loving concern. His friends in Broken Yoke would be solicitous, but people who lived in a small town and who’d known you all your life, often assumed they had the perfect right to grill you. They’d be unable to control their curiosity. They’d feel obligated to give advice.
Or worse, they’d offer pity. He knew he’d hate that the most.
In this strange, different year he’d discovered that most people meant well. They wanted to help. But he’d spent months trying to pull a black curtain over that night in the diner. The idea of having to revisit any of it, having those memories ambush him in some new and terrible way, made his heart feel as tight as a closed fist.
He wished suddenly that he’d followed his friend Larry’s advice—gone to the Bahamas for the holidays, where he could have found a sure cure for the blues under the warm sun.
Instead, he was almost home, watching snow flurries pelt the windshield of his rental car as he took the exit off the interstate.
He passed the familiar, aged sign that welcomed visitors to Broken Yoke. The turn up the mountain road that led to Lightning River Lodge would be just ahead, winding and treacherous in the worst of winter, but still as familiar to Matt as the route he took to the hospital in Chicago every day.
Lightning River ran along the lip of the Arapaho National Forest and widened into a deep, cold, crystal-clear lake. His parents had built the lodge on some of the prettiest land along the Front Range. The views from every window of the resort—mountains, lake and aspen-covered forests—left guests awe-struck, and its proximity to ski slopes, river rapids and quaint, historic towns in the area brought them back time after time.
A few years ago, when his father had first been incapacitated by his stroke, Matt had considered moving back home. He hadn’t really wanted to. His career had been on the fast track as he began to make a name for himself in microsurgery, and he could see endless opportunities ahead.
For a while, his mother seemed to manage the family business just fine. Her sisters, Renata and Sofia, had come from Italy to help out. Matt’s younger sister Adriana had just finished college and was more than willing to pitch in until things returned to normal.
But things didn’t return to normal. His father’s medical bills were astronomical. Rainy summer days and little fresh powder on the slopes to entice skiers made the situation worse. Matt had begun to talk to Doc Hayward about returning home and going into practice with the older physician—something Matt had never, ever considered before.
Luckily, his older brother Nick came up with a solution to keep the family business afloat and solve his problems, too.
Nick, an army helicopter pilot who had recently divorced, was concerned about having a proper place to raise his daughter Tessa. Matt couldn’t help feeling relieved when Nick quit the army and came home to take over, building his own cabin only a short distance from the lodge.
The change seemed to have worked. The business was doing well. Nick had added a helicopter tour company, Angel Air, to the amenities they offered guests, and Adriana, an entrepreneur at heart, had finally talked Nick and their father into reopening the old stable where they’d kept horses as kids.
Matt had been glad to leave running the business in Nick’s capable hands. And as much as he loved this area, he had never envisioned returning to live here permanently.
Now, he wasn’t so sure.
He wove his way through Broken Yoke’s downtown, past all the old familiar haunts. He saw that nothing much had changed, although a few more of the buildings looked empty; some