A Gift for All Seasons by Karen Templeton

Bree. They all had names, of course, but by the fourth or fifth they’d all become swirled together—
    She caught Patrick looking over at her and his mother. Not glowering, exactly, but close.
    “Oh, dear,” Kate said. “Someone’s not happy with me.”
    “You?” April frowned at Patrick’s mother. “Why you?”
    “Because I’ve got you all to myself,” she said with a little shrug. “He’s seen me do this before, of course. With the others.”
    “Seen you do what bef—?” The light dawned. “Oh.” She sighed. “Mrs. Shaughnessy—”
    “Kate. Please.”
    “Kate—”
    “I’m not trying to matchmake, believe it or not. Or stir up trouble, contrary to what Patrick is probably thinking right now. But siblings tattle. And Luke told me about the exchange between the two of you at Emerson’s the other day.”
    April’s heart bumped. “Exchange? We hardly said a dozen words to each other.”
    “So Luke said,” Kate said, smiling, and April turned aside, blushing. Kate chuckled. “I like to think I’m a wise old hen who’s learned a thing or two from watching her chicks fall in and out of love more times than I can count. And I’m seeing very clear signs that Patrick’s...interested. And mad as hell, too, because he doesn’t know what to do about it. About you.”
    “But...there’s nothing going on between us.”
    “Yet.”
    Suddenly all those yakking women and kids in her kitchen sounded appealing. Then again, if anybody understood the man, it would be his mama. She’d only have his best interest at heart, too. Especially after—
    “I’m sorry,” his mother gently said. “I’m making you uncomfortable.”
    “You’re not,” April said after a moment. “The conversation is. However...” She deliberately stared at Patrick until he turned her way again. Glowered again. Looked away again. “Luke wasn’t imagining things,” she said. “At least on my end. Because I’m interested, too. Especially since I can tell Patrick’s trying to keep his distance. Except what he says and how he acts are two different things.”
    “He’s been hurt, love,” his mother said gently. “And I’m not talking about what he’s gone through physically, although naturally that’s been no small challenge.”
    “What happened?” April asked, her gaze steady on Patrick.
    “You don’t know?” When April shook her head, Kate sighed. “Not that this is a surprise. He hates when people fuss over him. Make a big deal out of it.”
    April’s eyes cut to Kate’s profile. “A big deal out of what?”
    “He was in Iraq,” she said softly. “In the army, nearing the end of his tour of duty four years ago. A bomb went off in a house shortly after he and his team entered, setting it on fire.” Her voice softened. “Two of those men owe their lives to him.”
    “And...the others?” April whispered.
    Kate shook her head. Her eyes stinging, April reached for his mother’s hand, the older woman’s fingers closing around hers in silent understanding. “We’re incredibly proud of him for everything he’s overcome thus far. And I know there’s been plenty of times when he’s wanted to give up. Especially when he finally came home—back to his wife and child, I mean—and she told him she couldn’t...”
    Kate stopped, clearly choked up. “Men hear all their lives that they have to be strong. That they’re not allowed to hurt, or to hide it if they are. So they—the men—get frustrated and confused and pull away when all they want is to be comforted.”
    April realized Kate was squeezing her hand. “Patrick won’t let you comfort him?”
    She was quiet for a moment, “I think I was afraid to try. That he’d think I was treating him like my baby.” With a soft laugh she scrubbed away a tear with the edge of her sweater sleeve.
    “Which of course he still is. They all are.” Then she sighed. “Obviously he doesn’t look the same. And I gather he still has nightmares, although not as