The Kissing Stars by Geralyn Dawson

realized I wasn’t to blame for the accident that took my best friend’s life.”
    She licked her lips, then shot the question like a bullet. “Then why didn’t you come home?”
    Gabe lowered his head and rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s a complicated question.”
    Regally, she drew herself up. “No, I think it’s quite simple. You didn’t want to come home.”
    The accusation in her tone pricked his temper. “Damned right I didn’t. You sent me away, Tess. You told me you hated me. I thought you were divorcing me.” Seeing the stricken look on her face, he muttered a curse, then added, “And besides, if I’d have come home I’d have murdered my father. I figured patricide was best left out of the equation.”
    She closed her eyes and allowed her head to drop back. “I knew it. You blame him still, don’t you?”
    “Of course I blame him,” he replied, furious. “Monty Cameron might as well have killed your brother himself.”
    “That’s lunacy,” she scoffed. “It was an accident. You said it yourself not two minutes ago.”
    “An accident caused by negligence on that man’s part. Monty ignored the need to repair the faulty valve on the Bunsen burner, and he failed to secure volatile chemicals. Monty and his cursed carelessness did poor Billy in.”
    “I knew it,” Tess muttered, whipping the quilt into the wind. It opened and floated to the ground in a vibrant splash of reds, blues, and yellows, the bright colors shocking eyes accustomed to the monotony of West Texas. She dropped to her knees and smoothed away wrinkles in the cloth with a harsh stroke of her hand. “I knew you wouldn’t listen to reason where your father is concerned.”
    “There is nothing reasonable about my father’s actions. You and I were young, Tess, and young folks just act stupid. That’s one of nature’s rules.”
    He sighed heavily. “Look, I know now that I should have tried harder to see you, especially after you returned my letters unread. But you should have read them. You should have let me know if you wanted me to come home. But my father wasn’t young; he doesn’t have that excuse. He’s the one who truly deserves our wrath.”
    “Letters?” She jerked her head up. “What letters?”
    Gabe went still. “What do you mean ‘what letters’? I wrote you at least twice a week for a month. All of them came back unopened.”
    She sank all the way to the ground. He saw her throat bob as she swallowed hard. Softly, hurtfully, she said, “I never got them. They were never delivered.”
    “Oh, they were delivered.” Gabe folded his arms. “A friend of mine laid the three I sent that first week in your daddy’s own hand. They came to me packed inside another envelope along with the letter your father sent about the divorce.”
    Tess shut her eyes. “My father never gave them to me. He never told me.” After a moment’s pause, she added, “Oh, Gabe. My father was truly a wicked man.”
    Damn Stanford Rawlins . Bitterness rolled through Gabe like a tumbleweed in the wind. “Fathers,” he said with a sneer. “Reckon you and I were both lucky in that regard.”
    “No.” Tess reached irritably for the picnic basket. “Your father isn’t wicked at all. He’s a good man, a loving, caring man who made a mistake. He deserves forgiveness from you, not rancor.”
    “Forgive Monty Cameron?” With one, powerful swing of his arm, Gabe threw the pebbles remaining in his fist. “When your pal Rosie flies. The man is a killer and I’m not gonna forget it.”
    She rolled back on her heels and gazed up at him, her mouth tightened in a grim line. “Gabe, an accidental explosion killed Billy. It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t your father’s fault. Monty is—”
    Gabe rounded on her, furious. “Remember, Tess, Billy isn’t the only person Monty Cameron killed. My own mother and infant brother died needless deaths because he was too wrapped up in one of his stupid scientific searches to take my