Different Paths by Judy Clemens Page A

man—healthy but not necessarily athletic. Alan, on the other hand, had a graying but full head of hair, while David’s was cut military-short, trying to hide the fact that it was thinning. So while they weren’t brothers, they easily could’ve been.
    Tricia didn’t seem to care where the tour led, and Trevor wouldn’t even look at me, so I headed off. Out of necessity the tour was a slow one, with me picking my way around machines, fences, and slippery patches of manure.
    “So you run this place yourself?” Alan asked as we stood in the far pasture, which Wendy had vacated the day before. Alan’s coffee was gone, and his enthusiasm seemed more genuine the longer we’d strolled around the farm. “Looks like a lot to keep track of.”
    “I own it. Lucy works for me full-time, and Zach when he can. Mostly during the summers.”
    “Two women and a teen-ager.” Katherine smiled. “I like that.”
    “Yeah,” Sarah said. “Me, too.”
    Alan grinned at her. “I like it, too. Very enterprising. Was the farm handed down from your family?”
    I felt Ma’s gaze on me as I looked at my barn. “My folks died young—my dad when I was three, my mom when I was sixteen. Howie, our farmhand, kept it going for me until I was of legal age.”
    “He doesn’t work here anymore?”
    I swallowed. “No. He died last summer.”
    “Oh.” Alan stopped smiling and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry.”
    I shrugged and flattened a thistle with the tip of one of my crutches. I certainly wasn’t going to explain how Howie was murdered on this very land, trying to protect it. Trying to protect me .
    Katherine’s voice was gentle. “It’s hard to lose a loved one. Especially a parent, or someone who has been like one.”
    Tricia inhaled sharply and stepped away from our group, giving Katherine a flat look before walking back up toward the house. David glanced at Katherine, his expression guarded, and headed off after his wife.
    Katherine closed her eyes, breathing deeply, then opened them. “I’m sorry. Tricia’s still very…sensitive about our mother’s death. Can’t quite handle talking about it yet, even though it’s been a few months.”
    Sarah frowned. “She has to get over it.”
    “She will.” Katherine’s voice was firm.
    Sarah looked away.
    I watched as David caught up with his wife and fell in step beside her. “Had she been sick?”
    “Our mom?” Katherine looked at Alan. “She was…it wasn’t Alzheimers, but she was beginning to lose herself. It was hard to know— She’d been living with David and Tricia—and the girls—for a long time.”
    Sarah made a face. “Forever.”
    “A dozen years ago or so we decided Mom couldn’t really live on her own anymore. She was doing things like leaving the burners on, or forgetting to get dressed in the morning. Alan and I both had full-time jobs, so she moved down to Lancaster to be with Tricia and David. It was just at the very end that she moved into a nursing home, and then they discovered she had Stage Four breast cancer. She died only a couple of months later.” Katherine looked up the hill toward Tricia, who was no longer in sight. “Like I said, Tricia hasn’t been able to put it behind her quite yet.”
    My mother had died from breast cancer, too. And while I certainly didn’t think about it every moment, I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to put it completely behind me.
    Ma put her hand on Katherine’s elbow and pulled her gently away. “Who wants to head back to the car? I’m tired.”
    She wasn’t tired. But I had to love her for her protectiveness. And not just of me. Of all of us, thinking about our lost loved ones.
    Tricia and David were waiting for us by the van, David leaning against it, arms crossed, while Tricia stood a few steps away, watching Queenie as if the dog would attack her at any moment.
    Lucy and Zach were done milking, on to cleaning the stalls, and when I stuck my head in the door I saw they’d been joined by Randy,