North Country Hero. Lois Richer
He watched her walk to Laurel’s van. She opened the door then turned to face him.
“God bless you, Kyle,” she said in the softest voice. “I’ll stop by tomorrow.”
“That’s not necess—” Kyle’s words fell on emptiness. Sara was gone, the van driving away.
Kyle stomped into the house, fuming. He didn’t want her here, checking on him, blessing him. He wanted to be alone, to become totally self-sufficient.
Yet as he sampled the sticky sweetness of the cinnamon buns, Kyle almost welcomed the thought of someone else, someone whose presence would stop him from being engulfed by bitterness at what he’d lost.
He stopped himself. His plan for the future did not include staying here or becoming dependent. It certainly could not include getting mesmerized by a pair of silvery-gray eyes. He would never allow himself to be that vulnerable again.
For now, Kyle was home. He’d take the rest of his life one step at a time.
But if Sara did come back, he’d try to find out more about her, like what had made her stare so longingly at his dad’s laptop when she’d seen it lying on the desk.
And why she seemed so certain God would bless him.
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