He was not quite as tall, not quite as lanky, but he was both. Her father had strong shoulders and a wide smile. Ty’s chest was broader, his grin a stretch from ear to ear. The two men lived in blue jeans, T-shirts, cowboy boots, and ball caps, but the true similarity lay in their character, a rare blend of solidness and generosity. As the bright yellow minivan pulled away from the gas pumps, Jill walked across the concrete to where Ty stood in the shade of the canopy. “Hi.” She held out her hand. He grinned his wide grin and shook her hand with his rough one. “Awkward as always, huh?” She smiled at his reference to class reunions. They tiptoed around each other at those occasions, as if not quite sure how to relate now that they weren’t going steady. He let go of her hand. “You were missed at the last reunion. All sixty-seven of us agreed it would have been more fun with you there.” “I’m sure.” “It’s true.” He took off his red ball cap and wiped his forearm across his brow, brushing aside black curls.
