State Secrets by Linda Lael Miller

pretty cheeks. “I’m all right. You?”
    Skyler risked one broken glance at Holly and cleared his throat. “I’ll get by,” he answered gruffly.
    Holly looked at Mary Ann again and hoped devoutly that Skyler would fall in love with her, here and now. It was obvious that the dark-haired, blue-eyed woman adored him—perhaps she and Skyler had grown up together and perhaps Mary Ann had always cared for him….
    She brought herself up short. Fantasies. She was just weaving fantasies in hopes of making it easier to end her own relationship with Skyler.
    “Mary Ann and I found some real good trees,” Skyler’s father announced cheerfully, and a glance at his leathery, good-natured face told Holly that he knew more abouthis son’s relationship with the city lady than he was letting on.
    Again Holly felt guilty. It was going to be so hard, telling Skyler she didn’t want to see him anymore, even though he must certainly have guessed it from their conversation that morning.
    After a round of coffee in the huge, high-ceilinged farmhouse kitchen—Toby, of course, had hot chocolate—everyone except Mrs. Hollis set out for the woods.
    It was a bracingly cold day, and here in the country the snow was cleaner and, alas, deeper, making the jaunt to the woods rather hard going for Holly. Flinging back an occasional polite look, Mary Ann kept to the lead with Skyler and Toby.
    Wearing high rubber boots and a heavy, plaid woolen coat that smelled pleasantly of tobacco smoke and hay, Mr. Hollis stayed beside the lagging Holly. Something in his manner inspired confidence, and Holly, feeling an innate need to talk with someone older and wiser, ventured, “Mary Ann and Skyler must have known each other for a long time.”
    Mr. Hollis smiled. “Since kindergarten,” he replied, keeping his voice low, as Holly had, so that no one else would overhear. “I’m afraid it’s pretty obvious that Mary Ann has her cap set for him. ’Bout broke her heart when he went away to the city to start that store of his. Mine and Mother’s cracked a bit, too, as it happens.”
    Holly was saddened. Skyler was the Hollises’ only son, though he did have one sister. Probably, his parents had hoped that he would want to take over the family farm someday. “I’m sorry,” she said.
    “Ain’t your fault,” came the quick reply, and a smile lighted the older man’s eyes as Mary Ann picked up a handful of snow and flung it at Skyler, who shouted in good-natured protest and then returned the volley.
    Toby, never one to stand on the sidelines, gathered up ammunition of his own and joined the battle.
    “Mother was real pleased with that cookbook you sent up, the one with your autograph in it. She shows it to all her friends.”
    Holly didn’t know what to say to that, beyond “thank you”; she wedged her hands into the pockets of her old coat and sighed, slogging grimly along in the wake of the escalating snow war up ahead. Skyler’s, Mary Ann’s and Toby’s laughter mingled, a bright song in the chilly, snow-flecked air.
    “That’s a fine boy you have there,” Mr. Hollis persisted. Perhaps he sensed her need to talk and her paradoxical difficulty in doing so.
    “Thank you. Toby is actually my brother’s son, but I forget that most of the time, he seems like my own.”
    “Reckon if you take care of him and love him, then he is your own. It’s the day-to-day of it that matters, you know.”
    “Yes,” Holly agreed, thinking of Craig, remembering when he had been a fine father to Toby. But that had been several years ago, before Craig’s wife, Allison, had died. Before his habit had driven him to sell out his own country.
    “You don’t say much, do you?”
    Holly laughed. They were almost out of the pasture and into the stand of pine trees and Douglas firs that was their destination. “I’m usually more sociable,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
    “No need to be sorry.” He paused and caught her elbow in his strong, work-worn hand.