At Home in His Heart. Glynna Kaye

she’d had.

      How she hated not knowing how much Keith had shared with him. Not knowing if he sat in judgment of her.

      “Come along, Gina. We don’t want to be late.”

      Gina didn’t argue, but she turned to Bryce with outstretched hands, inviting him for a hug. He glanced again at Sandi as if seeking permission, then squatted down to envelop Gina in his brawny arms. The tiny girl all but disappeared as they folded around her, her eyes squeezed tight to hug him for all she was worth.

      A heaviness settled into Sandi’s heart. She’d have to talk to Meg and Joe this week. Maybe Joe wouldn’t mind an extra kid tagging along on a fishing trip. Maybe he’d be willing to give Gina a little “man time” to help make her less needy. Less vulnerable to Uncle Bryce.

      

      Bryce watched them walk away, a lump in his throat. Guilt pierced as he savored the childish embrace that by rights didn’t belong to him. What a shame Keith wasn’t around to receive precious hugs from the sweet little lady he’d sired. It should be her daddy she was clinging to, not him.

      And it should be Keith looking into the eyes of her lovely mother, as well, sharing a smile and a too-long moment of mutual awareness. Letting his gaze linger on her face…

      Shaken, he turned back to the boat. He hadn’t expected an attraction to Sandi, knowing what he knew about her. It caught him off-guard now, just as it had at the Warehouse, museum and parade. He had no business looking at her like that, thinking about her. Didn’t need to be noticing she was a gentle and caring mom. Didn’t need to be wondering how hard life had been in the five years since Keith’s passing—and about who would look after her and Gina in the years to come.

      No, he had to remember this was Keith’s wife. The woman who’d lured his unsuspecting buddy down the path to matrimony, then proceeded to dictate to him what the rest of his life would be like—just like Keith’s mom had attempted. Just like Bryce’s own mother, when she bothered to drop in on his childhood at all, had tried to do. Ordering him around. Imposing her will on his. Never pleased with anything he did.

      He squared his shoulders. From now on he’d watch himself. With God’s help, he’d keep his mind from wandering off where it didn’t belong. He’d come back to town to help Grandma, not to get snared in some pretty woman’s web.

      He studied the boat. He didn’t feel much like packing up his gear and hauling the watercraft out to Casey Lake. Maybe he’d listen to those Bible-study CDs. Complete another online firefighting course assignment.

      Or check out the equine center’s grand opening.

      

      Grasping Gina’s hand, Sandi followed Devon through the crowded parking lot of the equine center. They’d arrived late and had to park down near the main road, then walk up the tree-lined lane leading to the massive indoor arena and stable. The High Country Equine Center—or “Duffy’s” as locals knew it—had been closed for over a decade. But now, under new ownership, expanded and remodeled, it was open for business again. Horse boarding, riding lessons, special events.

      “Hurry, Mommy.”

      Gina skipped along at her side, the oversize cap sitting crookedly on her head. The begged-for fishing trip seemed long forgotten as the evening air filled with shrill whinnies and the scent of sun-warmed pine, wood shavings, hay and horses.

      Even Sandi’s own spirits lifted as she joined the excited throng of summer folks and locals. Always grateful when the crowds dispersed in the autumn, she nevertheless got caught up in the invigorating energy the annual influx of both familiar and unfamiliar faces brought with it. Seeking refuge in the ponderosa pine-studded community with its cool, more-than-a-mile-high elevation, the desert dwellers were the lifeblood of the economic health of Canyon Springs—and the museum.

      “I had no idea this was such a big deal,” confided Devon. Nevertheless, she’d gone all out with a pricey brand of boot-cut jeans and a sparkly red shirt. Even sported cowboy boots and a sassy feather-accented Western hat. Knowing she couldn’t compete with her fashion-savvy sister-in-law, Sandi had stuck with Levi’s, a T-shirt and tennis shoes.

      Over the sound system a booming voice of welcome sounded like Kara Dixon’s fiancé, Trey Kenton, who now managed the facility. The opening notes of the national anthem soon followed.

      Gina tugged on her hand. “Hurry.”

      The threesome wove their way among other latecomers, paid their way in and slipped through the opening to the arena seating. The place was packed. They should have come straight here, not gone home to have dinner and wait for Devon.

      “Way up there, Mommy. I see seats!”

      With a laugh and a shrug in Devon’s direction, she let Gina lead the way. Her daughter scrambled up the bleacher steps as Sandi followed behind. Sliding in sideways, focusing on maintaining her balance and apologizing for treading on toes, she and Devon kept an eye on Gina moving down one of the rows ahead of them. The little girl finally plopped on a gap of empty bleacher space, then grinned back at them.

      “See? Uncle Bryce saved us seats.”

      Sandi’s gaze flew to the man seated next to Gina, his hand raised to the brim of his straw cowboy hat in greeting. Wouldn’t you know it. A huge arena holding hundreds upon hundreds and Gina had to find a spot next to him.

      “Uncle Bryce?” whispered Devon, securing her hat with her hand and pressing in close to Sandi’s ear. “Woo-hoo, gal. You didn’t waste any time, did you?”