Picket Fence Pursuit Read Online Free PDF Page A

you to accounting. I was just curious about your Lord.”
    Kylie frowned. She’d never heard such a statement and wasn’t sure what kind of response he wanted, but she’d tell him the best she could. “Well, I grew up in a large family. We attended church from as far back as I can remember. When I was eight, I felt the Lord drawing me to go forward in church. I asked Jesus into my heart and was baptized the next week.” She looked up at Ryan. He seemed enthralled with every word she spoke. She swallowed as a wave of heat washed over her. “Is that what you mean?”
    “Absolutely. I would have loved growing up in a big family. My parents died in a car accident when I was a teenager. That’s when I moved near Santa Claus to live with Gramps. I received Christ after that.”
    “Where did you live before?”
    “Alaska.”
    “Alaska?”
    “Yeah. My dad had a bit of an adventurer’s heart, and when he and Mom visited Alaska for their honeymoon, he fell in love with the state. I was eleven when I had to move. I still visit sometimes.”
    “Do you want to live there again?”
    Ryan shook his head. “Not really. Sometimes I get nostalgic about it, but Gramps is all the family I have now, and I want to be near him.”
    “It’s good you live so close that you can take him to church.”
    Ryan chuckled. “First of all, the man hardly ever lets me take him anywhere. He loves to drive. Second, we live in the same house. So like it or not, and sometimes he does make me crazy, we are definitely close enough to go to church together.”
    He’s so poor he has to live with his grandfather. Getting to know each other was the best idea Ryan Watkins ever had. She smiled up at him. His hair didn’t glisten all that much, and his eyes didn’t seem quite so swimming. Another step down the ladder.
    “That teen over there. He’s been lurking around awhile, hasn’t he?” Ryan nodded to the adolescent standing beside a bench. His hair was unkempt and looked dirty. His clothes, worn and torn in places, were worse than his hair. The teen looked in his wallet, then at the ice-cream stand, then back at his wallet.
    “I don’t know.” Memories of being sponsored for school trips washed over Kylie. She remembered friends’ parents who’d generously spotted her a few dollars for lunch or snacks. They never seemed to mind, but Kylie had.
    “Hey, buddy.” Ryan held an ice-cream cone in one hand and motioned with his free hand for the boy to come to the stand.
    The adolescent sauntered over, his face hardened, and his hand tightly clutched his wallet. “What?”
    “I’ve got an extra ice-cream cone here. Just wondered if you’d like to have it.”
    The teen’s eyes lit for a moment and then clouded. “Don’t need no charity. If I want an ice cream, I’ll buy an ice cream.”
    Ryan shook his head. “Ain’t charity, man. I just thought you might like an ice-cream cone.”
    “Everyone else has to buy one. Why not me? Sounds an awful lot like charity.”
    Kylie tried to swallow the knot that formed in her throat. She knew exactly how the boy felt. She hated charity. Loathed it. How could Ryan do this? The ice cream wasn’t worth it to the teen. He’d rather go without than always be beholden to one person or another.
    Ryan leaned against the counter. “I’m not going to lie to you, man. Everyone else does have to pay, but sometimes in life people like to give a little gift to other people. I’m not seeing you as charity. I just simply bought an ice-cream cone.” Ryan grabbed money from his pocket, opened the cash register, and dropped it in. “And I want to give it to you. Now, are you going to take it or not?”
    The teen seemed to search Ryan’s expression. Finally, he exhaled. “Sure, I’ll take it.”
    Kylie watched as the adolescent walked away, licking his ice-cream cone. She looked back at Ryan, who’d already turned away to wipe off the machines. Ryan’s heart was as genuine as the mop of reddish hair atop