were one thing. They had bonds that would never break.
But romantic love was a whole different storyâ that kind of love was like a fragile bloom on the hard Montana plains. Short-lived and quick to wither in the bitter north winds.
A movement caught her eye. A manâs broad-shouldered shadow fell across the snow in front of the picture window. That profile sure looked familiar. The doorbell rang, although it was hard to hear above the noise of the cranked-up TV and the men shouting like the crazed fans they were in the living room. She alone seemed to notice the visitorâs silhouette against the etched glass in the door.
Kristin yanked open the door, glad to see Ryan Sanders blocking the porch light, snow glistening in his dark hair. âHey, what are you doing here? You clean up real nice.â
âRight. Oh, I shaved.â He ran one hand along his square jaw. âI bring good news and the fudge my mom promised your mom but didnât get a chance to drop by. She said since I was coming over, Iâd better not come empty-handed. I need something to bribe my way through the door.â
âWe donât let your kind in otherwise.â
When he laughed, dimples framed his smile. He had a great smile, the kind that lit him up from within. And it made Kristin feel bright inside, too. She took the offered tin, topped with an amber-and-orange ribbon.
She breathed in the fudgy aroma. âHmm, my mouth is already watering. Your mom makes the best fudge in three states. Did you want to come in? Or are you just dropping this by? Did you hear about Samantha?â
âI did. God must have heard your prayers because Tim told me they took a bone spur out of her neck, between C2 and C3 vertebrae. The bone didnât penetrate her spinal cord, and except for a little swelling against the nerve roots, sheâs fine.â
âAnd does that mean sheâs going to be all right?â
âYeah. They pinned a broken bone in her lower right leg, turned out to be a fracture, but other than that, sheâs fine. Considering the cold, it could have been a lot worse. Itâs a good thing we came along when we did.â
It was no coincidence. The certainty of it steadied her. The long events of the last night had happened for a reason. What if Ryan hadnât flown into Seattle for his job interview? Then he would never have been on the flight that was diverted to Boise. And if not for the storm, then he wouldnât have been anywhere near the lonely stretch of road where Samantha Fields had crashed. As the Good Lord would have it, Ryan, a doctor, was there to help when he was needed. He made a true difference in the world.
âIs that football?â Ryan leaned past her to sneak a look at the game in full-color glory on the wide screen. âMan, look at that TV.â
âItâs Dadâs pride and joy. Donât tell me you like football.â
âLike it? Itâs only like the most important thing in the world.â He rolled his eyes, which sparkled with humor. âHow could you not know that?â
âMy mistake. Sorry. Football ranks right above world peace. I should have known. Youâre welcome to come inside and watch the game.â
âThanks. Ooh, a fumble!â Ryanâs groan matched the series of painful noises rising up in the living room.
âCome in. Stay. Thereâs probably room for you on the floor in the corner. We wonât charge you admission this time, since youâre a friend of the family and all.â
âKristin, youâre fabulous. You know that, right? Itâs been killinâ me not being able to see this game. Momâs satellite is out.â He took a step forward, enough to see the replay of his teamâs fumble. âThatâs killinâ me, too.â
âTake off your coat before you go gawk at the TV.â She held out her hand.
But Ryan, all his attention focused on the game, shrugged out