The Prodigal's Christmas Reunion. Kathryn Springer

       He drove a hand through his hair and snowflakes drifted down like bits of silver confetti. “I’m sorry it’s so late. Is Max ready to leave?”

       “He’s sound asleep.”

       “Right.” Lucas sighed. “He usually takes a nap around this time. I’ll carry him out to the truck.”

       Something in the weary slump of his shoulders tugged at her conscience.

       “Would you like to thaw out with a cup of coffee first?” Erin couldn’t believe she’d said the words. Out loud.

       And Lucas hesitated just long enough to make her wish she could take back the invitation.

      Chapter Five

      “Sure.” The husky rumble of Lucas’s voice scraped away another layer from her defenses. “I appreciate it.”

      No problem.

       Erin wanted to say the words but they got stuck in her throat. She was all too aware of Lucas as he followed her into the kitchen.

       He let out a low whistle. “Max must have slept a long time.”

       “What makes you say that?”

       One eyebrow lifted. “The ten dozen Christmas cookies on your counter?”

       “It’s only five dozen.” Erin reached for a clean coffee mug in the dish drainer. “And Max wasn’t sleeping. He helped me.”

       “Max helped you?” Lucas repeated in disbelief.

       “Technically, we divided the work. I baked the cookies and Max decorated them.”

       Lucas’s lips twitched. “I guess the three-eyed snowmen should have given it away.”

       Erin filled the mug, trying to keep her wits about her. Which wasn’t easy with Lucas three feet away. Close enough for her to breathe in the scent of leather, crisp mountain air and the hint of soap that was uniquely his.

      You can do this. Just pretend you’re at the café and he’s a customer, remember? “Do you take cream or sugar?”

       “Just black.”

       So far, so good. “How did it go out at the McKinney place?”

       Instead of taking a drink, Lucas folded his hands around the steaming mug, as if trying to absorb its warmth. “Ten stitches.”

       “Ouch.” Erin winced.

       “Don’t feel too bad for the steer,” Lucas said drily. “He only ended up with six of them.”

       “Then who…” For the first time, Erin noticed the gauze bandage peeking out from the cuff of Lucas’s sleeve. “You got the other four?”

       “That’s why I’m late. Arabella called my cell when I was on my way back and I happened to mention the injury. I’ll know better next time. Jonathan Turner was waiting in the driveway when I got back to the clinic,” Lucas said, his expression rueful. “I heard she was dating a doctor but I didn’t think I’d meet the guy while he was stitching up my hand.”

       “What happened?” Erin was almost afraid to ask.

       “Apparently he didn’t like my bedside manner—the steer, not Mr. McKinney.” Lucas shrugged. “It comes with the job, you know.”

       “I’ll have to take your word for that.”

       An awkward silence filled the space between them. Was Lucas remembering how she’d once dreamed of being a veterinarian?

       Their eyes met across the table and Lucas set the cup down.

       “I should go. Thanks again for keeping an eye on Max.”

       Just like that.

       Erin’s throat tightened. Apparently Lucas found it no more difficult to walk away from her now than he had all those years ago. Further proof that his feelings hadn’t been as deep as hers.

      You weren’t enough to keep him here…

       Vincent’s mocking words cycled through her mind and she turned away so Lucas wouldn’t see her expression. In her heart of hearts, Erin might wish for Lucas to still feel something for her, but she didn’t want it to be pity.

      Poor Erin Fields. Still hung up on her first crush.

       She needed to pray that God would help her let go of the past, too.

       “I’ll pack up some cookies for you to take home.” Erin reached for a decorative tin on the second shelf and began to pack it with three-eyed snowmen and pink reindeer, hoping Lucas wouldn’t notice that her hands were shaking.

       Which wouldn’t have been as obvious if he’d remained sitting at the table. But no. He got up, closed the distance between them in two short strides and began to help.

       “You’ve got green and red sprinkles in your hair.”

       “Christmas decorations,” Erin shot back, a little surprised that she could do polite and funny. “I get a little carried away.”

       Lucas, however, didn’t appear amused. His eyes narrowed, searching her face as if he were looking for something. Or someone.

       What did he see when he looked at her? The girl he’d claimed to have loved? Or one more mistake he’d made?

       The air emptied out of Erin’s lungs as his fingers brushed against her hair. “Erin—”

       Whatever he’d been about to say was lost in the high-pitched scream that pierced the air.

       Not again.

       Not now.

       Lucas sprinted down the hall, vaguely aware that Erin was right behind him, already apologizing for something he knew wasn’t her fault.

       He should have warned her this could happen, but he hadn’t anticipated being gone so long. And the truth was, he never knew when a dark memory would emerge and trigger another one of Max’s episodes.

       The social worker had encouraged Lucas to give Max time to adjust to all the changes in his life. He’d gone through a lot for someone of his tender age, but he didn’t have the ability to process what had happened. Reality and imagination had a way of becoming tangled. The result was a waking nightmare for Max and a sleepless night for Lucas.

       He rounded the corner and spotted Max bolt upright on the sofa, his small body rigid with terror, eyes wide and riveted on some unseen threat.

       Erin’s soft gasp punctuated the air and Lucas remembered how he’d felt the first time he’d seen Max like this. The way he still felt when he saw Max like this.

       He glanced at Erin to gauge her reaction. To his astonishment, she didn’t rush over, pick Max up and rattle off a bunch of questions that he couldn’t answer. She stopped in the center of the room, as if she trusted that Lucas knew what to do.

      Yeah, right.

       When it came to stuff like this, Lucas would have loved to defer to an expert. Unfortunately, there was never one around when you needed one. Max was stuck with a guy who knew more about four-year-old horses than four-year-old boys.

       He lowered himself onto the sofa next to Max as casually as if they were going to watch Monday-night football.

       “Hey, buddy.” Lucas didn’t expect a response. He’d learned that words couldn’t penetrate the invisible wall that separated them, but talking to Max made him feel better.

       He slanted a quick look at Erin. She was watching them but her lips moved in a silent plea.

       This was the second time he’d caught her praying. Erin’s faith had been strong as a teenager and it looked as if she’d held on to it over the years.

       That made one of them.