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He smiled back at her and realized how much he’d missed her and the rest of the family. For two years, Sam had been a gypsy, traveling from one country to another, chasing the next experience. He’d lived out of the duffel bag he still held tightly and hadn’t looked any further ahead than the next airport or train connection.
He’d done some skiing of course. Sam didn’t compete professionally anymore, but he couldn’t go too long without hitting the slopes. Skiing was in his blood, even when he spent most of his time building his business. Designing ski runs at some of the top resort destinations in the world. The skiwear company he and Jack had begun was thriving as well, and between those two businesses, he’d managed to keep busy enough to not do much thinking.
Now he was here, meeting his father’s studying gaze over the top of his mother’s head. It was both surreal and right.
With a deliberate move, he dropped the duffel bag, then wrapped both arms around his much-shorter mother and gave her a hard hug. “Hi, Mom.”
She pushed back, gave his chest a playful slap and shook her head. “I can’t believe you’re really here. You must be hungry. I’ll go fix you something—”
“You don’t have to do that,” he said, knowing nothing could stop her. Connie Wyatt treated all difficult situations as a reason to feed people.
“Won’t be a minute,” she said, then shot her husband a quick glance. “I’ll bring us all some coffee, too. You stay in that chair, mister.”
Bob Wyatt waved one hand at his wife, but kept his gaze fixed on his son. As Connie rushed out of the room and headed for the family kitchen, Sam walked over to his father and took a seat on the footstool in front of him. “Dad. You look good.”
Scowling, the older man brushed his gray-streaked hair back from his forehead and narrowed the green eyes he’d bequeathed to his sons. “I’m fine. Doctor says it wasn’t anything. Just too much stress.”
Stress. Because he’d lost one son, had another disappear on him and was forced to do most of the running of the family resort himself. Guilt Sam didn’t want to acknowledge pinged him again as he realized that leaving the way he did had left everyone scrambling.
Frowning more deeply, his father looked over to the doorway where his wife had disappeared. “Your mother’s bound and determined to make me an invalid, though.”
“You scared her,” Sam said. “Hell, you scared me.”
His father watched him for several long minutes before saying, “Well now, you did some scaring of your own a couple years ago. Taking off, not letting us know where you were or how you were...”
Sam took a breath and blew it out. And there was the guilt again, settling back onto his shoulders like an unwelcome guest. It had been with him so long now, Sam thought he would probably never get rid of it entirely.
“Couple of postcards just weren’t enough, son.”
“I couldn’t call,” Sam said, and knew it sounded cowardly. “Couldn’t hear your voices. Couldn’t—hell, Dad. I was a damn mess.”
“You weren’t the only one hurting, Sam.”
“I know that,” he said, and felt a flicker of shame. “I do. But losing Jack...” Sam scowled at the memory as if that action alone could push it so far out of sight he’d never have to look at it again.
“He was your twin,” Bob mused. “But he was our child. Just as you and Kristi are.”
There it was. Sam had to accept that he’d caused his parents more pain at a time when they had already had more than enough loss to deal with. But back then, there had seemed to Sam to be only one answer.
“I had to go.”
One short sentence that encapsulated the myriad emotions that had driven him from his home, his family.
“I know that.” His father’s gaze was steady and there was understanding there as well as sorrow. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it, but I understand. Still, you’re back now. For how long?”
He’d been expecting that question. The problem was, he didn’t have an answer for it yet. Sam ducked his head briefly, then looked at his father again. “I don’t know.”
“Well,” the older man said sadly, “that’s honest at least.”
“I can tell you,” Sam assured him, “that this time I’ll let you know before I leave. I can promise not to disappear again.”
Nodding, his father said, “Then I guess that’ll have to do. For now.” He paused and asked, “Have you seen...anyone else yet?”
