Wild Honey. Veronica Sattler

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      “Trav, that’s wonderful! She finally mustered the courage to see you.”

      He stifled an obscenity and glared at her. “Come off it, Sarah! Wonderful? What’s so wonderful about a fifty-nineyear-old woman needin’ courage to see her own son?”

      Sarah winced at the bitterness in his voice. With a deep sigh, she reached for his hand on the table and gave it a squeeze; the squeeze was returned, and she smiled sadly. “It’s been awful for everyone, havin’ the family ripped apart like this. Mother’s suffered the most, I think. You must know how difficult Daddy made it for—”

      “What, exactly, did Daddy do, Sarah?” He’d wanted to ask their mother, but somehow hadn’t been able to; the encounter had been awkward enough as it was. “What’d the SOB threaten? To disinherit you ‘n’ Troy, maybe? That’d make sense, I s’pose. Unlike me, y’all had your schoolin’ to complete. But Mother has her own money, from her trust. Y’all would hardly’ve gone penniless if she’d stood her ground.”

      Sarah heaved a sigh and shook her head. “Unfortunately Daddy knew exactly where we were vulnerable. You see—” pain and anger flashed in her eyes “—he threatened to refuse to help Troy pass his surgeon’s boards.”

      Travis swore vehemently under his breath. Pushed into medicine despite having no aptitude for it, Troy had had a difficult time of it. Quiet gentle Troy, who’d gone dutifully to med school, remaining there only through vast amounts of time and money spent on tutors. They’d all known that passing his surgery boards would be the biggest hurdle. That Trent McLean himself, brilliant surgeon that he was, had been the one who was supposed to see Troy through them.

      “Maybe not passin’ them would have been the best thing that could’ve happened to Troy,” he said angrily. “Maybe then he could’ve joined Aunt Louise at Stanford.” If Troy had to be in medicine, they both believed he’d have been happier in research. As his mother had reminded him, an aunt in research at the West Coast institution had offered to sponsor him. But their father had insisted on surgery. Just as he had with Travis.

      “Maybe,” Sarah replied, “but I don’t think Mother was willin’ to take the chance with Troy’s future. And you were right about the will, incidentally. That was the first thing Daddy threatened, along with forbiddin’ Mother to help you.”

      Travis snorted. He’d had no doubt he’d been cut off, but money was never that important to him; lean years in the military had told him he could live without luxuries. No, losing his inheritance was the least of his regrets.

      “What about you, Sarah?” he asked, studying her face. “Happy in the family career plan?”

      She eyed him carefully, aware she was about to drop a bombshell. “I’m not in the family career plan any longer, Travis. As of last semester, I’m not pre-med, but pre-law.”

      “Huh?” His bemused look was almost comical, and she grinned at him.

      “I said I’m—”

      “I heard you,” he cut in dazedly, “but I still don’t believe it. What happened?”

      She smothered a giggle. “Steve Townsend happened, for one thing, although that only started the process.”

      “Who the hell is Steve Townsend?”

      She was smiling, and he thought he detected a blush under her tan. “He’s…well, let’s just say he’s my new ‘significant other.’ He also happens to be a top-performin’ second-year law student at Georgetown.”

      Travis groaned. “I think I’m beginnin’ to get the picture.” Holy Hannah! She imagines she’s in love, and now—

      “No,” Sarah said, “I don’t think you do. I may or may not be in love with Steve. I haven’t decided yet—too soon to tell, I expect. But my feelin’s for the man had nothin’ to do with my decision, Trav. What happened was, after we began seein’ each other, I helped Steve with some research…” She paused as if to gather her thoughts and took a sip of coffee.

      “And—?” he prompted irritably. He wasn’t certain why he felt irritated, but he felt a vague stirring of guilt. A voice niggled at the back of his mind, saying she was following in his footsteps and no good could come of it. It was one thing to be the rebel himself, but another matter entirely for his kid sister to be influenced enough to take the same route.

      “And,” she said, “in helpin’ with that research, I stumbled across a discipline that fascinated me. I mean fascinated in a way medicine never could. It’s a whole new world, Trav, and I can’t get into it fast enough.”

      He stared at her, hearing the conviction in her voice. It wasn’t the boyfriend, then; he’d only been a catalyst. That was a relief, but his stirring of guilt only grew; he realized just how gutsy his little sister was—and perhaps just how like himself she was.

      “Does Father know about this?” he asked tightly.

      “About Steve?” she asked, deliberately misinterpreting.

      “You know what I mean,” he growled, then offered a sheepish smile. “Sorry, pumpkin. Guess I’m still havin’ a hard time digestin’ this. But since you brought him up…”

      “Not to worry on that score,” she assured him. “Steve’s been out to the farm a few times, and they like him. ‘Course, I haven’t mentioned that we’ll be sharin’ an apartment in the fall, but I’m workin’ on it.” She grinned. “By the time it happens…well, they’ll adjust to the idea.”

      Little Sarah, all grown up. Travis wondered if he could adjust to the idea. He shook his head, as if to clear it of outgrown notions.

      “Back to the big one,” he reminded her. “You haven’t told them ‘bout your new career, have you?” He knew that his mother would’ve said something if she had.

      “Not yet. They all think my takin’ summer courses is to finish early. I’m actually pickin’ up credits for pre-law.”

      He stifled a groan, but Sarah caught the hint of regret in his eyes. “Don’t you dare go blamin’ yourself for my decision, Travis McLean! Or gettin’ involved, either. It’s about time the men in this family realize a woman—especially this woman—is capable of makin’ her own choices.”

      He seemed to chew on this, silent as he sipped his iced coffee. She watched him, wondering what he was thinking. Not too long ago she’d come across material about controlling parents in some of her course work. One of the things that had made an impression on her was that controlling parents—like her father—often spawned controlling offspring. And Travis had always, though in a far gentier manner than their father, been a little too ready to take over the lives of those he cared about.

      Sarah wasn’t worried about herself. She was strong enough to resist his well-meaning impulses. But she worried about him Would this blind spot in her otherwise sensitive brother cause him problems someday?

      “Sarah—” Travis’s voice was concerned when he finally spoke “—are you sure, absolutely sure, about this thing?”

      “I’ve never been more sure of anythin’ in my life.”

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