A Family for Thanksgiving. Patricia Davids

Glenis said, “She slept through the whole thing.”

      Nicki rose. “Thanks for taking her this afternoon. Mom, you remember Clay Logan, don’t you?”

      To say Nicki’s mother looked stunned was putting it mildly.

      Clay raised two fingers to touch the brim of his hat. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Mrs. Appleton.”

      As Glenis glanced between Clay and Nicki, her expression hardened. “I didn’t know you were back in town, Clay.”

      “I just got in.”

      “I see.” Her gaze switched to Nicki. “You should get Kasey out of this cold wind.”

      “You’re right.” Nicki accepted the stroller handles from her mother.

      Her daughter eyed Clay seriously for a few seconds, then her round little face broke into a wide grin. She raised her hand and wiggled her fingers. “Hi. Hi.”

      Squatting in front of child, Clay reached in and flicked her nose. “Hi, yourself, sugar face.”

      Nicki pulled the stroller back a pace. “Come on, honey, let’s get you home. Clay, it was nice seeing you again. Have a good visit.”

      Clay rose slowly and stood on the sidewalk staring after them as they walked away. His hopes, like the gazebo where he’d once kissed Nicki, had been reduced to ruins in a matter of seconds.

      She had a child. He was too late.

      Over the years Clay had considered the possibility that Nicki would find someone else. Sometimes, he even hoped that she’d found someone to love her as she deserved to be loved. But to see it—to know for certain she loved another man—cut deeper than he had imagined possible.

      Nicki had gone on with her life. He hadn’t.

      Racing to her rescue had seemed like a good idea five days ago. As it turned out, he was years too late. She didn’t need rescuing. Even the town he wanted to help rebuild was well on the way to recovery. He’d driven thousands of miles to discover no one needed him.

      He ran a hand over the stubble on his chin. So what now?

      Leave again? And go where? He’d been north, south, east and west of Kansas. What good had it done him? He might pretend he was a carefree cowboy, but the specter of his failures followed him wherever he traveled.

      He’d made so many mistakes. Each one led to another and another until it seemed like his whole life had been one long string of screwups. Just as Jesse had predicted.

      Give me a clue here, God. What am I supposed to do?

      Somehow, Clay knew he needed to start over, to find what had been missing in his life. As much as he’d wanted that to be Nicki, it wasn’t going to happen.

      The knowledge was more depressing than the ruins of the town.

      Nicki stopped at her front steps and lifted Kasey out of her stroller. Her mother folded the carrier and followed Nicki into the house.

      Sitting on the camel-colored sofa, Nicki divested Kasey of her plush coat and mittens and waited for her mother to make some comment about Clay. She didn’t have long to wait.

      “Nicki, did you know Clay was coming back to High Plains?”

      “Nope. I was as surprised to see him as you were.” Surprised, angry, confused, attracted.

      “I thought perhaps that was why you wanted me to watch Kasey today.”

      “I told you I had an appointment to get my hair cut today.” Grabbing a strand, she waved it toward her mother. “See—no split ends.”

      “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply that you were lying.”

      “Could have fooled me.” Nicki leaned forward to tug Kasey’s green knit top down over her plump little belly. As far as Nicki was concerned, it was one of her foster daughter’s cutest features. Of course, her wheat-blond hair, bright blue eyes, dimpled cheeks and pudgy fingers were all a close second.

      Kasey patted her chest. “Chirt.”

      Nicki beamed. “That’s right. That’s your shirt. You’re so smart.”

      “Owey.” Kasey pointed to the pink scar on her forehead.

      “Yes, that was your owey, but it’s all better now.” Nicki planted a kiss on the spot to prove it.

      Kasey had been found the night of the tornado injured and alone. She remained the great mystery of the storm. No one knew who she was. It was as if she had literally been dropped out of the sky.

      Extensive investigations by the local and state police and even the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children had come up empty in the search for her family or her identity, though some imposters had claimed she was their daughter.

      At first Nicki had prayed daily that Kasey would be reunited with her mother or her father. Knowing that someone, somewhere must be frantic about the child had fueled those prayers.

      Lately, however, those prayers had become harder and harder to voice. Her love for her foster daughter was growing by leaps and bounds. The idea of losing her had become almost unbearable.

      Glenis sat on the sofa beside Nicki. “I just thought it was odd that you should run into Clay Logan the moment he set foot in town.”

      “The Lord moves in mysterious ways, Mom.”

      Affronted, Glenis folded her hands in her lap. “I hardly think you need to be flippant about it. I remember how you cried yourself to sleep for weeks after that boy left.”

      “It was a long time ago. We were kids. I got over it.”

      “You say that, but I’m not so sure.”

      “Surely you don’t think I’ve carried a torch for him all this time?”

      “Well, haven’t you?”

      “No. I’ve dated any number of men, a few seriously. But because I haven’t met the right man is no reason to assume I’m still pining over Clay. Besides, my friends have snapped up all the good men around here.”

      The tornado might have wreaked havoc on the town, but the twister had certainly brought with it a dose of romance. Maya Logan had fallen for her boss, Greg Garrison, the most eligible bachelor in town. They had married in August. Then the two of them quickly added Tommy Jacobs, a six-year-old foster child to their family.

      Reverend Michael Garrison had recently become engaged to Heather Waters, the founder of Helping Hands Christian Mission. Heather, originally from High Plains, had returned to help with the recovery efforts, and it looked like she would be staying for good.

      Josie Cane, who ran the after-school day-care program at the church where Nicki taught preschool, was head over heels in love with Silas Marstow. And engaged—thanks to the matchmaking efforts of Josie’s niece and Silas’s daughter.

      Even Lexi Harmon, the town’s veterinarian and her ex-husband, Colt Ridgeway, the police chief, had rekindled their marriage and were back together—where Nicki always thought they belonged.

      It warmed Nicki’s heart to see so many people she cared about finding love in the face of the town’s tragedy, but sometimes she felt the green imp of jealousy sitting on her shoulder. Why hadn’t it happened for her?

      And now Clay Logan had returned.

      No, don’t even go there!

      Nicki scolded herself for the unbidden thought. She hadn’t pined for him. She wasn’t waiting for him to show up. She was living the life God meant for her to live. That life didn’t include a cowboy with wanderlust in his veins.

      “I want you to be happy,” her mother continued. “I want you to find someone you can settle down with.”

      Leaning forward, Nicki ruffled