The Prodigal M.D. Returns. Marie Ferrarella

replied cheerfully. She obviously wanted to be the peacemaker. Hooking her arms through Ben’s, she drew him across the threshold and into the house. “Come in, Ben.” Releasing him, she closed the door behind her brother-in-law, acting as if there was no history, no awkward past to overcome. “Have you eaten? We finished dinner a couple of hours ago, but there’s plenty to—”

      Shayne had not moved an inch since recognition had set in. “Get out,” he ordered, his voice low, his lips barely moving.

      Sydney’s head jerked around in Shayne’s direction. Bad blood or not, she seemed stunned to hear her husband’s inhospitable words. Shayne had been a taciturn man when she’d first arrived, as warm as one of the intricately carved totem poles that could be found dotting the harsh terrain. But beneath the hard exterior, she had discovered the soul of a man who cared, who was there for his neighbors and his patients, giving more than he ever thought to get back.

      Locked within himself at an early age, Shayne had never been able to express his feelings in any way verbally other than what amounted to a monosyllabic growl. His caring came out in the way he tended to the sick and the wounded. Sydney had been the one who had helped him out of his self-made prison, who had helped him bond with the two children who hardly even knew their father.

      During the seven years that she had been married to him, Shayne had slowly become more at ease with himself. While no one could have accused him of exactly being warm and toasty, his enormous capacity for compassion was no longer a matter of question but of record.

      She frowned at him now. “He’s your brother, Shayne.”

      Shayne looked at his wife in surprise. “He’s the man who ran out on you, Sydney—on both of us—with nothing more than a note.” His anger growing, he glanced at his younger brother. “One lousy note and nothing more. Not in seven whole years,” he emphasized, moving closer to Ben. Cutting Sydney out of his line of vision. “What’s the matter, Ben? Are you in trouble? Do you need money? Is someone after you? Some woman you promised the moon to and who isn’t satisfied with being left behind like some discarded tissue?”

      He had that coming to him, Ben thought. That and a great deal more. And if Shayne gave him a chance, he’d say so. He’d apologize in every way he knew how. Life was too short to leave things the way they were.

      “No, I just wanted to see you. To tell you I was sorry.”

      Shayne gave no indication that the words made any impression on him. His brother continued to glare at him. “And then what?”

      Ben felt as if he was standing at the very edge of a cliff, overlooking choppy waters. Any moment he could lose his footing and fall off. But he hadn’t come here to play it safe. He’d come here to make amends.

      “That’s up to you.”

      Shayne snorted, shaking his head. Unconvinced. He knew Ben could turn on the charm and let it flow like others turned on a faucet. He’d seen his brother do it over and over again, avoiding penalties for his actions from the time he was old enough to widen his soulful eyes.

      “Very tender, Ben, but you’ll forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

      “Shayne.” Sydney tugged on his arm.

      “Damn it, Sydney, this is the man who jilted you. Who treated you as if you were just so much disposable dirt.”

      “This is the man who’s responsible for the greatest happiness I’ve ever known,” she informed Shayne firmly. “If it hadn’t been for Ben, I would never have come up here. I would never have been in a position where I couldn’t just pick up and go back to what had been my home. If not for Ben, I would never have met our two beautiful children, never been blessed with having them in my life.”

      Her eyes held his. “If not for Ben, I would never have met you.” Her voice softening, she laced her fingers through his, her eyes never leaving his face. “I would never have given birth to our daughter or been as sublimely happy as I am right at this very moment.”

      The news hit Ben like a ton of bricks. The town’s men outnumbered the women seven to one. Given Shayne’s personality, he’d never thought his brother would get married. Ben’s jaw dropped as he looked from the petite woman to his brother. “You married my brother?”

      “Seemed like the thing to do at the time,” Sydney said with a laugh that warmed the room. “Shayne was very lost.”

      Originally, she’d intended to remain until her furniture arrived. She was going to tell the movers to turn around and take everything back to Seattle. But by the time her furniture came, she had lost her heart to the stern doctor and his two motherless children. There was no way she would ever have gone back.

      “And he definitely needed a woman’s touch, because he wasn’t doing all that hot on his own,” she added with a twinkle in her eyes.

      “I would have been fine,” Shayne informed her, softening despite himself. “In time.”

      She slid her arms through her husband’s and leaned into him. “There’s not that much time available in the whole world,” she teased. And then, feigning a look of innocence, she asked, “Can he stay, Shayne? Please?”

      The anger was already fading. When it came to Sydney, Shayne found he had trouble saying no. Even when he felt he should.

      And when he allowed himself to admit it in the secret places of his soul, he had missed his brother a great deal. Worried about him and wondered what he was doing and where he had gone. It was like a wound that had refused to heal. Not knowing, not having any answers, had kept it that way.

      “Yeah,” Shayne mumbled grudgingly, his eyes still only on Sydney. “He can stay.”

      Chapter Two

      “What are you really doing here?” Shayne asked as he closed the door to his den. Shayne had brought Ben into the small room, sealing them away from the rest of his family. He looked at him now, waiting for an answer.

      Taking a seat on the creased dark-brown leather sofa, Ben looked around. And remembered.

      The somewhat cluttered rectangular room, smelling of lemon polish and wood, hardly looked any different from when they’d played “fort” years ago, huddling beneath the scarred oak desk, pretending they were manning a fortress against some mysterious enemy. Back then the room with its stone fireplace had been their father’s den and had smelled of cherrywood, the pipe tobacco their father favored.

      Ben glanced at the wall adjacent to the fireplace. The floor-to-ceiling bookcase was jammed with books. His parents’ library had been augmented with the medical books they both had pored over in school. His eyes came to rest on one shelf near the bottom. Instead of technical manuals or the classic literature that had belonged to their parents, the shelf housed what appeared to be a host of well-handled children’s books.

      His brother’s life had a good balance to it, Ben thought. Unlike his own.

      In his opinion, the last hour or so had gone rather well. Better than he’d anticipated when he’d first walked in. The children, Shayne’s son and daughter from his previous marriage and the five-year-old product of his present union with Sydney had all taken to him.

      Granted, the two older kids had been a little wary at first, and he could see they had their father’s cautious approach when it came to people and trust. But the little one was different. She had climbed up onto his lap almost immediately, winning him over faster than he could win her. By the time he’d finished eating the meal Sydney had insisted on placing before him, Ben felt pretty certain he had been welcomed back into the family fold.

      By everyone except the man he’d wounded most.

      Crossing one ankle over a thigh, Ben selected his words with care. He’d made peace with the fact that a great deal of effort was needed before Shayne would believe his sincerity. Before Shayne would stop looking at him warily, as if waiting for him to bolt.

      But that was okay,