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few hours she’d spent with him had helped her realize that her heart was still capable of response, that it hadn’t shriveled up inside her like an orange left too long in the fruit bowl.
    For that she was grateful.
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    As Vaughn pulled the rental car into the long driveway that led to his parents’ home, he saw that hismother had turned on the back porch light. It wasn’t really necessary, since the outside of the entire house was decorated with Christmas lights.
    He knew his mother had made tentative plans for a dinner with friends on Sunday afternoon and might not be pleased by his absence. However, Vaughn didn’t mind returning to Buffalo Valley. He’d enjoyed meeting Carrie and learning some of the town’s recent history. He’d report this information to Natalie; she might find it useful. Carrie Hendrickson was an interesting contrast to the women he’d met and dated in Seattle during the past few years—including Natalie, his sort-of fiancée. Carrie had shied away from talking about herself, which was a refreshing change from what he’d grown accustomed to hearing. A recent dinner date with Natalie had been spent discussing every aspect of her career and the Value-X corporation—as if their work was all they had to talk about. He’d come away with a letdown feeling, feeling, somehow, that he’d missed out on something important…only he didn’t know quite what. After all, he admired Natalie’s drive and ambition and her unemotional approach to life.
    His mother was finishing the dinner dishes when he entered the kitchen. “How was your visit?” she asked, rinsing a pan before setting it on the drainboard.
    â€œWonderful.”
    â€œHow’s Hassie?” she asked, looking expectantly at him as she reached for the towel to dry her hands. “You did give her my love, didn’t you?”
    â€œShe was exhausted.” He explained that the pharmacist had been at a meeting when he arrived and that her assistant had convinced him to wait until she got back. Neither she nor Carrie had mentioned the reason for the meeting, but whatever it was had drained her, emotionally and physically.
    His mother’s brow furrowed with concern. “She’s not ill, is she?”
    â€œI don’t think so, but I didn’t want to tire her out any more than she already was, so I told her I’d be back on Sunday.”
    His mother’s face clouded and he knew what was coming. The subject of Vaughn Knight always distressed her. Every time his name was brought up, she grew quiet. He suspected she’d postponed a promised visit to Hassie because, for whatever reason, she found it hard to talk about Vaughn. More than once he’dseen tears fill her eyes. His mother wasn’t the only one; his father also tended to avoid conversations about Hassie’s son. All Vaughn knew was that both his parents thought a great deal of the friend who’d lost his life in a rice paddy thirty-three years earlier. So much that it still caused them pain.
    â€œI’m glad you’re doing this,” she said. “Over the years I’ve wanted to talk about Vaughn, but I get choked up whenever time I try.”
    She grabbed a bottle of hand lotion and occupied herself with that for a few moments, but Vaughn wasn’t fooled. She didn’t want him to see that her eyes were brimming with tears.
    â€œHassie will do a far better job of telling you about Vaughn than your father or I could.”
    Impulsively Vaughn hugged his mother, then joined his father, who was watching television in the living room.
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    On Sunday the drive into Buffalo Valley seemed to go faster than it had on Friday. He knew exactly where he needed to go, and the very landscape he’d found monotonous two days earlier now seemed familiar, even welcoming.
    When he pulled into town, Buffalo Bob was spreading salt on the sidewalk in front of his own place