“You finally opened the box,” she said, putting the truck in gear.

“I finally dug to the bottom of the box. You buried the past under the books.”

She banged her fist on the steering wheel. “Darn it! I told Tobias he put the mailing label on the wrong side. The bag of cards was on top when I packed it.”

Allie had guessed something like that. She was one smart lady.

“Did you read them?” Gavin asked.

“Only enough to know what they meant and that you should have them.”

“Does Odelia know you sent them to me?”

Ruth huffed out a sigh. “Yeah. Mom and I had a little disagreement about that.”

“Then she won’t be surprised by my visit.” And his stepmother would have had time to come up with her own story about why she’d never given him the cards.

“Look, I don’t condone what she did,” Ruth said, throwing him a sharp glance. “But she had her reasons, and they weren’t all wrong. Mom’s old, Gavvy, and she might even regret some of it, so go easy on her, will you?”

“Is that why you came to meet me? To plead her case?”

“I came because I care about you, you big jerk. I just didn’t like your tone of voice when you spoke about Mom. It was scary.”

Gavin leaned his head back against the seat. “You were my lifeline, Ruthie. For your sake, I’ll moderate my tone with Odelia.”

And Allie would want him to.

“Much appreciated. Will you stay for lunch with Tobias and the kids? We’d all love to spend some time with you.”

Genuine regret pricked at him. “Not today, but I promise I’ll come back soon when I can stay longer.”

Ruth gave a grunt of disbelief.

Gavin reached over to squeeze her shoulder with affection. “I mean it this time. I’d like to see Tobias and your children.”

“They wanted to see your helicopter in the worst way, but I told them they had to go to school.”

“I’ll give them a ride the next time. With your permission.”

“As long as I don’t have to go up in that thing.”

Ruth turned onto the street that led to Miller’s Feed and Dry Goods and the house he’d grown up in. Again, time seemed to reverse itself, sucking him back with it. This was why he didn’t come home.

He forced himself to focus on the changes. A new sign and paint color on the real estate office. A bakery and café in what used to be Ratzenberger’s, a restaurant with grouchy waitresses and terrible food.

“I hope the new café is better than Ratz’s,” Gavin said.

“About ten times better. Mattie Wilson opened it. That girl can bake!”

Gavin nodded, but he was bracing himself for Miller’s Feed and Dry Goods on the next block. As they approached it, he forced himself to look at the scene of so many years of misery in his young life. And did a double take. “Good God, the place looks downright inviting.”

Ruth grinned. “We saved up and did a big renovation late last fall, so you missed it. The inside is even better. Skylights and everything.” She sighed. “Dad helped with the plans, but he never got to see the result. That makes me sad.”

It looked so altered on the outside that he thought he might be able to set foot in it again without enduring the anguish of his younger self.

“Thank you,” he said.

That earned him a puzzled look. “I didn’t think you cared much about the store.”

“In a very different way from you and Tobias.” Three more blocks and the street became residential. “Any chance that you repainted the house, too?”

“Nah, it’s the same old white wood with black shutters. Mom would never allow a different color.”

Odelia wouldn’t allow anything that diverged from her idea of what was respectable. As they pulled up in front of his childhood home, he thought the house glowered at him.

“I’ll be down at the store. Give me a call when you’re ready for a ride back.”

Gavin nodded. His throat was too clogged with new anger and old resentments to speak. He swung out of the car and strode up the stone walk to the front door, twisting the old-fashioned brass doorbell hard.

After several seconds of staring at the brushstrokes in the door’s glossy black paint, he heard the sound of a latch being turned, and the door swung open.

“Gavin? Did you tell me you were coming?” Odelia’s bony countenance with its deep, harsh lines held shock and confusion. She rubbed her hand over her face as though she didn’t trust what her eyes were showing her.

Looking down on her from his adult height, Gavin was surprised at how small she looked. And old. “No, but I need to speak with you about something important.”

“Important to you or to me?” Her tone was tart, but there was an undercurrent of uncertainty.

“Oh, only to me, Odelia, but I’d appreciate a few minutes of your time.” Gavin couldn’t keep the edge out of his voice.

She pulled the door farther open with unconcealed reluctance. “A few minutes is all I’ve got. You should have warned me you were coming.”

Turning, she led the way into what was always called the front parlor, a room Odelia had forbidden him to enter as a child. The reason cited was the china cabinet with its curving glass front and its display of fragile bone china teacups. A rambunctious boy was a threat to the household treasures. But, in fact, Gavin had been more likely to settle down with a book than to roughhouse indoors. Odelia had simply wanted him to feel excluded. Or at least, so he’d thought.

“I can offer you a glass of water or some lemonade,” his stepmother said, coming to a halt in the middle of the fake Oriental rug.

“Thank you, but I know you’re busy.” Gavin reached into his jacket’s inside pocket and pulled out the last letter from his mother. “I read my mother’s cards. And this last letter.”

Odelia sank onto a chair, her face shuttered. Gavin tried to hand her the letter, but she waved it away. “I know what it is. Ruth insisted on sending it to you. Just stirring up old trouble that can’t be changed.”

Gavin ran his index finger over the return address. Could nothing be changed? Allie believed differently, so he was going to give it a try. “I need to know why, Odelia. You owe me that.”

“I don’t owe you anything. I raised you as my child. That’s enough for any woman to do.”