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look at the fireplace of smooth gray river rock that reached for two stories toward the vaulted ceiling, and he saw the past. Once Dad’s animal trophies had been proudly displayed there. The five-point buck and the three-point elkwere long gone, replaced by clear twinkle lights Rachel left up all year round. But memory was a fluid thing, and he blinked back the past.
    I’m tired, that’s all, he told himself as he let the awkward rucksack slide from his shoulder and smack to the carpet. He propped his crutches against the wall of stone and dropped into the sectional. Dozens of little frilly throw pillows nearly suffocated him.
    â€œDo you have enough of these frilly things?” He tossed a half dozen of them across the cluttered coffee table into the deep cushions of a big overstuffed chair.
    â€œSorry, you’re in a girl zone, remember? It might be a hardship for a big tough guy like you. It’s not camouflage or military motif, but trust me, eyelet, lace and ribbons won’t hurt you.”
    â€œI can’t relax around this stuff.” He sent a pale pink pillow with a satin heart sailing across the room. “You’re up late. Is there something I can do for you?”
    â€œAh, find me the secret to time travel so I can go back to this morning and start over,” came her response from down the hall.
    Yeah, she worked too hard, and he didn’t like it. She was gone a suspiciously long time for just dropping off his bag. “You’re not doing stuff for me like making up a bed, are you?”
    â€œOh, no, I already did that. I can’t imagine how tired you have to be. I’ve got a plate keeping warm in the oven. I thought you might be hungry.” Rachel waltzed into sight.
    You are the one who looks exhausted, little sister. He hated the dark rings beneath her eyes, but she managed a real smile.
    â€œYou’re tired, Rache. Go to bed. Stop worrying over me. Stop doing things for me. You have enough to do as it is, and I can take care of myself.”
    â€œYes, I know, you’re a big tough Special Forces soldier. But you don’t know how worried we’ve all been. Ever since we were told you were missing in action—” The lovely soft pink in her face disappeared, and in the faint light she looked snow-white. Pain twisted across her face. “I was scared for you.”
    Just like that, she got behind his steel defenses. He hated the fact that she’d been worried. “I wasn’t missing. Not in the true sense of the word. I knew exactly where I was.”
    â€œYes, but we didn’t, hence the ‘missing’ part. And I did miss you. I was worried to death.”
    â€œNo, I was misplaced for a while, nothing more.”
    Rachel wasn’t fooled. Her eyes filled with tears and she was suddenly in his arms—his sweet little sister who’d always seemed so fragile, and here she was crying over him when he was perfectly fine.Over him, when there had been so many others who hadn’t come out of the ambush alive.
    â€œYou’re wasting your tears, you know.” He tried to be gruff.
    She swiped the dampness from her cheeks and pushed away from him, leaving him with a hole the size of the state of Montana in his chest. Wishing he knew what to do or what to say. Wishing he knew how to stick. He was a horrible big brother, and he was at a loss as to how to fix it.
    He’d do anything to protect and provide for his sisters, but the truth was simple: he wasn’t good at relationships. He was better at bailing out—staying away—than at being here. He liked to keep an arm’s distance from intimacy, and he never shared the real Ben McKaslin. Not with Rachel.
    Not with anyone.
    He kept relationships simple and on the surface. It was easy to do when he lived so far away. All he had to do was send quick letters with funny anecdotes, e-mail with jokes, that kind of thing. But here in person, when he had to