Sweet Home Montana (The McKaslin Clan) Read Online Free Page A

silver hair cut in a bob that curled thickly at her jawline. Porcelain skin. A dainty chin. The lines of her face were crisp and clean and familiar. Like her mother’s. Like her own.
    But the elegance and grace of the woman, the power and dignity were different. Mary Whitman commanded attention. She took a regal step forward. Dressed in quality clothes, she looked casual and tasteful. She wore sleek tailored tan slacks and a coordinating cashmere cardigan and mock-turtleneck shell. Accents of gold—fine gold, no fourteen-karat stuff—glinted at her earlobes and throat, wrist and fingers. Her designer purse and shoes matched perfectly and looked pristine, unscuffed.
    Lauren had never felt so small. She felt painfully aware of her wrinkled khaki shorts and her simple summer top—not exactly designer or the latest fashion. Her discount-store rubber flip-flops were nearly worn out.
    Only now did it occur to her that maybe she should have stopped at a fast-food place and used the bathroom to change into nicer clothes. With a sinking feeling, she had to admit that nothing in her wardrobe would make a better impression on this woman. She’d assumed her mother had come from simple beginnings.
    She smoothed the wrinkled cuff of her shorts and tasted her nervousness. “It’s nice to finally meet you in person. I’m Lauren.”
    Okay, that was obvious. But the woman—her grandmother—wasn’t saying anything. She just stood there, one hand resting on the side of her car door, not moving a muscle.
    It was Caleb Stone who broke the silence. “Mary, are you all right?”
    He dropped his grip on Lauren’s arm and moved forward. In that moment, Lauren saw the caring. The genuine concern. He had a good heart.
    “No.” The older woman nearly choked on the word. She lifted her hand to her chest, pressing against her throat. “The sight of her simply knocks the breath from me. Lauren, you’re the spitting image. It’s just uncanny.”
    “Of Katherine?” Caleb asked.
    Lauren didn’t know who Katherine was. She was only aware of the pain beginning to fill her chest.
    It’s my mom, she thought, knowing there had been a terrible rift between her grandmother and mother, something horrible enough for each to ignore the other for two decades. Without a doubt it was her mom’s fault.
    “I—I look like L-Linda, I know.” Her voice caught on her mother’s name, or maybe it was the swirling emotions and fears that made her stutter. “But I’m n-nothing like her. I don’t want to upset you.”
    “No, I’m not upset. Just surprised.” Mary Whitman took off her sunglasses, exposing gentle green eyes brimming with tears. “You look something like Linda, true, but heavens, look at you. You’re the very image of my sister, gone this last year. It’s like she’s come to life again. Goodness. Come closer, child.”
    I don’t remember this woman, Lauren thought, taking a stumbling step forward. But she wanted to. With all of her heart. Surely there were some memories tucked away. She tried to resurrect them. Images of homemade cookies or hot chocolate—but there was only a blank. Nothing at all. No recollections of a younger-looking version of this woman before the silver hair and the gentle wrinkles.
    Mary Whitman stood tall with a poise that came from a lifetime of rising above adversity. Lauren could sense it, see it in the dignity of the woman’s tear-filled eyes. Tears that did not fall. Her arms stretched out, eager for a hug.
    Lauren came from a childhood without a lot of affection. She couldn’t remember the last time her mother had hugged her. The thought was uncomfortable, but she stumbled forward anyway and into the circle of her grandmother’s embrace.
    Lilacs. Mary smelled of lilacs. It was a scent Lauren remembered. Somewhere in the vast shadows of her early childhood, she saw the glimmer of memory just out of reach, bobbing closer to the surface.
    It was a start.

Chapter Three
    O ver her grandmother’s