Free Winter Winds by Gayle Roper Page A

didn’t.
    When there was barely a breath of air between them, he released her hand and drew a knuckle down her soft cheek. “I love you, Dori McAllister.” And he kissed her before she had a chance to protest.
    After a startled moment during which he feared she’d pull away, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him backwith an enthusiasm that surprised and delighted him. When they came up for air, Dori leaned her head on his chest. “I love you too, Trev. I’ve loved you for years.”
    It was the most wonderful weekend of his life, but by Monday evening she was gone. Once again Pop had been his bulwark as the waves of despair and depression threatened to drown him.
    “Why?” Trev had asked over and over again. “Why did she go away? And where?”
    Pop didn’t have the answers, at least to the first question. No one did except Dori, and she wouldn’t talk about it.
    “I can’t discuss it yet, Trev,” she’d say in a thick voice when he phoned her. “So just don’t ask.”
    “But, Dori—”
    “I mean it. If you keep asking, I won’t talk to you at all.”
    “Give her room, Trev,” Pop said. “Let her work it out for herself.”
    “I love her, Pop,” he blurted out. It was the first time he’d told anyone but Dori.
    Pop nodded, and Trev realized that his secret had been no secret after all.
    “And she loves me.”
    Once again Pop nodded. “I know.”
    That was six long years ago, years during which she lived in San Diego while he lived in Seaside. They spoke on the phone on average once a month. She made certain his calls were short and the conversation innocuous. It was as if their words of love had never been spoken, their marriage never taken place. He knew far more than he wanted about Small Treasures, about Meg Reynolds and her family, and almost nothing about Dori herself, certainly nothing about why she was there and he here.
    Phil walked to the hospital window and stopped beside Trev. He studied his younger brother through narrowed eyes, and Trev braced himself.
    “If you didn’t want to get divorced,” Phil asked, “why didn’t you make her come home?”
    “Believe me, I wanted to. I went out to get her when I finally found out where she was, but you can’t
make
someone come home.”
    There was a small silence as Phil thought about that. “I still say you should have made her come home.”
    “Make your wife be your wife?” Trev shook his head. “Being a wife has to be voluntary a love offering, as it were. I was young and dumb when she left, but I knew even then that I couldn’t force her to live with me, to love me, and I haven’t changed my mind.” He shrugged. “So I wait and I pray.”
    Phil shook his head. “Who would ever have believed that my little brother would become a living soap opera?”
    “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Trev asked without rancor.
    Phil nodded. “I wouldn’t say I’m exactly enjoying it, because it’s obvious you’re a man in pain, but it isn’t often you fall off your white horse.”

S even
    D ORI LOOKED UP as the door opened, expecting to see Phil or Honey. When Trev walked in, she felt all the breath leave her body.
    He looked wonderful. He’d always been a good-looking boy and a handsome if unfinished teenager, but now as a man, the skinniness that had followed him through his growing years had been replaced by a lean maturity. His black hair was thick and shiny, his shoulders broad, his blue eyes brilliant, and his jaw firm. He exuded strength.
    His eyes went directly to her, and their gazes locked. She swallowed involuntarily. Slowly his mouth curved in a self-mocking smile.
    “Hello, Dori. Nice to see you.” His voice was cool, neutral.
    She nodded, swallowed again to be certain she could speak. “Hello, Trev. It’s good to see you too.” She gave what she hoped was a polite smile. She would match him lack of emotion for lack of emotion or die trying. No way would she allow him to know the raw power his mere