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light.
    She stopped to the sink, closed her eyes then opened them.
    “Mother of God.” The entire left side of her face was purple from her ear to almost her nose. Her eye was swollen and black. “Wonder if Mary Kay will cover this?”
    Half an hour later both she and Ryan descended the stairs. Her sundress floated around her ankles. At the bottom of the stairs she wondered which way to go. She couldn’t believe people actually lived here. No wonder Dr. Kinncaid was so arrogant and self-assured.
    “It’s like a museum, isn’t it?” Ryan whispered.
    “Shh,” she told him, listening. Finally, she heard a clink of a utensil on a dish. Breakfast.
    Following the sound, she ran a hand over her vintage beige dress, walked through double doors and into a large dining room.
    Gavin sat behind a newspaper.
    Taylor stopped in the door.
    “Oh.” A woman, the same height as Taylor hurried from the sideboard over to them, her shoulder length red curls bouncing around her face. “Hello, I’m Kaitlyn Kinncaid, Gavin’s mother.”The newspaper rustled.
    Taylor offered her hand. “Hello. I’m Taylor Reese and this is my son Ryan.”
    Mrs. Kinncaid looked perfectly groomed. If her other son last night looked like he had stepped out of GQ , she looked like she’d walked off the pages of Nordstrom . Taylor shifted, wishing she’d had other clothes. One of her few quirks were vintage clothing, circa 1920’s and 30’s. Flapper dresses, tank dresses out of filmy material and lace. The one she had on now had set her back a bit, but the beige georgette overlay had caught her fancy. Now though, they probably looked like Goodwill rags, as Charles had often called them.

    23
    After a silent moment, Mrs. Kinncaid asked, “Are you in pain? I thought Gavin said no one was hurt in the accident.”
    Her face. Though she’d tried, makeup could only do so much. She gently touched the side of her face. “I’m okay. And it wasn’t the accident.”
    The woman tilted her head. “Did you take anything for it? Your face looks like it hurts.”
    Taylor shifted and sighed. “Some ibuprofen.”
    Mrs. Kinncaid frowned. “Come on. Load up your plates. Becky, our housekeeper-cook-general, cooked too much this morning.”
    Taylor dared a glance at Gavin. He’d lowered his paper and stared at her. Frowning as always.“Do you ever smile?” she blurted.
    His gaze narrowed. “Not before noon and never when looking at a bruised woman.”
    She rolled her eyes. His mother laughed as he flipped the newspaper back up.
    Taylor and Ryan loaded their plates with eggs, waffles, and fruit.
    “Gavin tells me you work in Social Services,” Mrs. Kinncaid offered after everyone was seated. Taylor nodded. “Yes, I do.”
    Mrs. Kinncaid shook her head. “I was a pediatric surgeon for years. It is a shame, a horrible shame what some parents do to their own children.”
    “I know.”
    Ryan shifted next to her. He looked up, his eyes shadowed with memories she knew she’d never be able to erase. Looking to Mrs. Kinncaid, he said, “Some people are just mean.”
    The woman cocked her head to the side and for a moment she said nothing, then, “Yes, yes sometimes they are.”
    From under her lids, she caught Gavin’s study of them.
    “Are you married?” Mrs. Kinncaid asked her.
    Taylor almost dropped her fork. She could feel Gavin’s eyes on her. “No, divorced.”
    The woman smiled, a single dimple winking in her cheek. Just like the other son, Aiden, Taylor had met last night.
    “And your name is Ryan?” she asked.
    Ryan nodded, not looking up.
    “Well, if I can talk my son here into staying a bit longer, you might meet Tori, my granddaughter. She and her father live here, but they’ve been gone. Should be back this afternoon.”
    “Mother, we can’t stay.”
    Since the man was driving her back to town, Taylor said, “If you want to see your brother, I can wait.”
    He shook his head. “No, I’ll see Bray later. We’ve got to call a wrecker to