The Real Mr Right. Karen Templeton

could have,” Preston said on a slight laugh. “But that one had a special place in her heart. She said Kelly always seemed so...fragile. Like she’d break if you looked at her funny.”

      Before Matt could interject, his father continued. “Her parents’ fault, if you ask me. They were good people, don’t get me wrong. And your mother and I liked them well enough. But there’s a fine line between protecting your kids and smothering them. And they crossed it.”

      “Huh. Sabrina said pretty much the same thing.”

      “We could never figure out how the girl could hang around your sister—hell, any of you kids—and not have some of that spunk rub off on her. But it didn’t. At least not before her father died, and her mother and she moved away.” He paused. “How’s she doing?”

      “Hard to tell. Although I think she found that spunk. At least enough to get herself and her kids out of what sounds like a bad situation.”

      “Spunk, hell. That takes guts. Which you know.”

      His father was only echoing what Matt had said to Kelly that morning. Words Matt had meant with every fiber of his being. So why did he feel like rats were gnawing at him from the inside out?

      “So you’re okay, then,” he said, “with her being here?”

      “Why wouldn’t I be? Can’t tell you how often your mother mentioned Kelly after they moved. Asked Sabrina if she’d heard from her, how she was making out. And I know for a fact if Jeannie were still here, she’d be gratified that Kelly felt she could come to us. So you take good care of her. And as it happens...I was going to call tonight, anyway. Think I might stay down here a little longer.”

      “Really? How much longer?”

      “Haven’t decided.” Pop laughed. “Although the way the weather’s been up there, I may not come back until June. I didn’t figure you’d mind.”

      “Um, no, of course not—”

      “Abby okay? The other boys?”

      The “boys” being Matt’s adopted brothers. Tyler, the youngest, was always “okay,” as far as Matt could tell, his salvage business growing like gangbusters as he went through girlfriends like popcorn. Matt’s older brother, Ethan, however, was another case entirely, parenting four kids on his own after his wife’s death three years earlier.

      But they were all adults now, making their own choices and decisions. After raising them, not to mention everything their father had gone through during their mother’s illness, the old man deserved to live his own life. Have a little fun. Soak up the Florida sunshine. So Matt reassured the Colonel they were all good, to go frolic with the gators as long as he liked.

      The call finished, and it occurred to Matt that, actually, the whole making-your-own-choices thing was a crock. Or at least a myth. Especially when fate had other ideas.

      Because if it were up to him, he thought, stopping in front of a toy-store window, he’d still be married. Maybe a dad himself by now. If it were up to him—he went inside, just to look—redheaded crushes from his past would have stayed in his past, not shown up in his present to seriously mess with his head. If it were up to him—he picked up a Star Wars LEGO set, put it back, picked it up again—his sister would have given him every reason to boot said redhead back to Haleysburg to work out her problems with her ex. And his father wouldn’t have twisted the knife by playing the your-mother-would-have-wanted-this card.

      The mother who’d saved his sorry butt when he’d been too little to know his butt needing saving.

      Never mind the risk involved, he thought as he plunked the LEGO set, as well as a brightly colored sock monkey, on the counter by the cash register and pulled out his wallet, should he get involved.

      His phone buzzed as the cashier handed him back his credit card, the bagged toys. And not only to your career, bonehead, he thought when he saw Kelly’s name and number in the display, and his heart thumped.

      “Hey...what’s up?” he said, aiming for casual...which went right out the window when he heard Kelly’s next-door-to-hysterical laugh in his ear. No, not a laugh, some sound that defied description. Now outside, his hand tightened around the phone. “Kelly—?”

      “Rick’s dead,” she choked out, then burst into sobs.