A/N: Reviews and comments are always welcome, so if you see anything in the story that you like or dislike, please provide feedback.

As Andrew looked glumly at the plate in front of him, Shane set Stephanie in her high chair. "Come on, sweetheart. Let's see what Worthington has for your lunch." He picked up the plate of food for her and carried it over to the chair.

"What is this?" Andrew asked as he poked at the food in front of him with his fork.

Shane laughed. "That, Sport, is a true British lunch. Shepherd's pie. And that recipe was from your Grandma Jeannie, my mum."

Andrew looked dubious. "It looks weird."

"Think of it as hamburger and mashed potatoes all mushed together," Shane said. That seemed to work. Andrew picked up a fork-full and, after close examination, took a bite and then another. Meanwhile, Shane turned to trying to feed Stephanie some chicken and vegetables without wearing half her meal.

"Ah, Master Donovan, I was looking for the children." Shane turned to see Mrs. Batson in the entryway to the kitchen. He wiped away some of the mashed carrot on his shirt and gratefully surrendered Stephanie's spoon to her.

"I'll let you take over from here," he said, then looked over to Andrew, who was shoveling shepherd's pie into his mouth. "Andrew, when you're done with lunch, why don't we go into the village? I bet we can find some people over on the cricket pitch and you can practice your bowling."

"Can we?" Andrew asked excitedly.

"Absolutely, Sport. I just have to go take care of something for work first." Shane wanted to be out of the kitchen when Kayla and Steve came in to get Stephanie, so he headed out of the kitchen toward the entrance of the communications room.

"Shane." He stopped when he heard Kayla's voice. She had turned down the hallway toward him. She had a very determined look on her face.

"Um . . . Kayla." He knew he sounded nervous. "Stephanie's in the kitchen with Mrs. Batson. I was just . . . um . . . heading to my study to do some work."

"Stop," she said. "You've been avoiding me. Steve's upstairs now, so he won't hear us. We need to talk."

"Do we?" he asked in an even tone. He had conquered his nerves and reminded himself that he was supposed to be making this easy for her. Calmly, he added, "I think you said everything you needed to say the other day."

Kayla shoved her hands into her jeans pockets and shifted from side to side, uncomfortably. She did not look at him. He knew she would probably try to apologize for her comment about Steve being the only man who meant anything to her, but Shane cut her off.

"You don't need to say anything more, Kay."

"Yes, I do," she said. She pulled her right hand out of her pocket and Shane saw the ring he had given her. The ring his father had given his mother. "I have to tell Steve the truth, but I wanted you to know first and . . . I wanted to return this."

Shane shook his head. "I gave that to you. It's yours." He pushed past her and headed down the hallway. Don't say anything, he told himself. Don't let her see. He could hear her footsteps behind him as he turned down the front corridor toward the foyer.

"Shane, don't walk away from me," Kayla said, her voice rising.

He spun around to face her. She still had the ring out and was holding it out to him. "I told you," he snapped, more harshly than he intended. "That's yours. Do what you want with it. Keep it for yourself, put it away for Stephanie, or just throw it away. I don't care."

"I know you're hurting," Kayla said. "I'm sorry."

Shane had managed to recover control of himself. "You've nothing to be sorry for. You don't think I knew the consequences of the operation."

"The operation?" Kayla said, incredulously. "How can you call it that? You're talking about bringing Steve back to me and Stephanie. And I know how hard it had to be for you to do that."

Shane took a deep breath. "If you think that, then you don't know me at all," he said, his tone even. "The decision to take the mission was easy. Steve's family."

"That's not what I mean and you know it." Kayla stepped close to him. "I know you loved me, Shane, and I loved you, but this. . . ." She held up the ring. "It's a symbol of something that can't happen. When you gave it to me, you said your father gave it to your mother on the day he decided he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. He wanted a future with her. That's what this ring represents - the future - and we don't have one."

"It's still yours," Shane said. He was struggling again. That dam of emotion, the pain, was threatening to burst. "I gave it you because I loved you. That's how I felt - and how I felt can't be taken back." He looked down at the ring in her hand. "Neither can that."