LITMIR.BIZ

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she saw a little girl reading Lonely Bunny Makes a Friend Tula’s heart swelled with pride.

      She wandered over to the shelf where her books were lined up and, taking a pen from her purse, began signing the copies there.

      A few minutes later, a voice stopped her mid-scrawl.

      “Excuse me.”

      Tula looked at a woman in her mid-forties with a name tag that read Barbara and smiled. “Hi.”

      The woman looked her up and down, taking in her faded jeans, blue suede boots and windblown hair before asking, “What are you doing?”

      Tula dug into her purse and pulled a roll of gold-and-black autographed copy stickers that she always carried with her. “I’m the author and I thought since I was here I would just sign your stock, if that’s all right.”

      She had never had trouble before. Usually bookstores liked having signed copies of the books on the shelves to help with sales.

      “You’re Tula Barrons?” Barbara asked with a wide grin. “That’s wonderful! My daughter loves your books and I can tell you they sell very well for us here in the store.”

      “I’m always glad to hear that,” Tula said and hurried her signature as Nathan started to fuss.

      “You live locally?” Barbara asked.

      “Temporarily,” Tula told her and felt a slight wince inside at the admission. She didn’t know how long she would be staying in the city, but she was already dreading having to leave both Nathan and Simon.

      “Would you be interested in doing a signing here at the store?” the woman asked. “We could set it up for you to do a reading at the same time. I think the kids would love it.”

      “Uh,” Tula hedged, not sure if she should agree or not. Normally, she would have, of course. But now that she had Nathan to worry about…

      “Please consider it,” Barbara urged, looking around the children’s area at the brightly colored floor rugs, the tiny tables and chairs. “I know most authors hate doing signings, but I can promise you a success! Your books are very popular here and I know the children would get a big kick out of meeting the woman who writes the Lonely Bunny stories.”

      Tula followed her gaze and looked at the dozen or so kids sprinkled around the area, each of them lost in the wonders of a book. Yes, her life was a little up in the air at the moment, but a couple hours of her time wasn’t that much of a sacrifice, was it?

      “I’d love to,” she finally said.

      “That’s great,” Barbara replied. “If you’ll just give me a number where I can reach you, we’ll set something up. How does three weeks sound?”

      “It’s fine,” Tula told her. While Barbara went to get a pad and pen to take down her information, Tula told herself that in three weeks, she might be back living in Crystal Bay. Alone. That would mean a drive into the city for the signing, but if she was gone from Simon’s life, she would at least be able to stop in and see Nathan while she was here.

      Her heart ached at the thought. That baby had become so much a part of her life and world already, she couldn’t even imagine being nothing more than a casual visitor to him. She put the signed book back on the shelf, walked to the front of the stroller and went down to her knees.

      Running her fingers across the baby’s soft cheek, she looked into brown eyes so much like his father’s it was eerie and said, “What will I do without you, Nathan? If I lose you now, you won’t even remember me, will you?”

      He laughed and kicked his legs, turning his head this way and that, taking in all the primary colors and the bright lights.

      Her already aching heart began to tear into pieces as she realized that Nathan would never know how much she loved him. Or how much it hurt to think of not being a part of his life.

      She’d agreed to be the baby’s guardian for her cousin Sherry’s sake. But Tula had had no idea then that doing the right thing was going to one day destroy her.

      * * *

      Simon got home early the following day and no one was there to appreciate it.

      Damned if he’d be so boring that Tula could set her watch—if she had the organizational skills to wear one—by him. He was still fuming over her monologue the night before, ticking off his daily routine and making him sound as exciting as a moldy rock.

      In response, Simon had been shaking up his routine all day long. He had gone through the flagship of the Bradley department stores, stopping to chat with clerks. He’d personally talked to the managers of the departments, instead of sending Mick to do it. He had even helped out in the stockroom, walking a new employee through the inventory process.

      His employees had been surprised at his personal interest in what was happening with the store. But he had also noted that everyone he talked with that day was pleased that he’d taken the extra time to listen to them. To really pay attention to what was happening.

      Simon couldn’t imagine why he hadn’t done it years ago. He was so accustomed to running his empire from the sanctity of his office, he’d nearly forgotten about the thousands of employees who depended on him.

      Of course, Mick had ribbed him about his sudden aversion to routine.

      “This new outlook on life wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain children’s book author, would it?”

      Simon glared at him. “Butt out.”

      “Ha! It does.” Mick followed him out the door and down the hall to the elevator. “What did she say that got to you?”

      He was just aggravated enough by what Tula had had to say the night before that he told Mick everything. He finished by saying, “She ticked off my day hour by hour, on her fingers, damn it.”

      Mick laughed as the elevator doors swept closed and Simon stabbed the button for the ground floor of the department store. “Wish I’d seen your face.”

      “Thanks for the support.”

      “Well come on, Simon,” Mick said, still chuckling. “You’ve got to admit you’ve dug yourself a pretty deep rut over the years.”

      “There’s nothing wrong with a tight schedule.”

      Mick leaned against the wall. “As long as you allow yourself some room to breathe.”

      “You’re on her side?”

      Grinning, Mick said, “Absolutely.”

      Grumbling under his breath at the memory, Simon stalked up the stairs, haunted by the now unnatural silence. For years, he’d come home to the quiet and had relished it. Now after only a few days of having Tula and the baby in residence…the silence was claustrophobic. Made him feel as if the walls were closing in on him.

      “Ridiculous. Just enjoy the quiet while you’ve got it,” he muttered. At the head of the stairs, he headed down the hall toward his room, but paused in front of the nursery. The baby wasn’t there, but the echo of him remained in the smell of powder and some indefinable scent that was pure baby.

      He stepped inside and let his gaze slide across the stacked shelves filled with neatly arranged diapers, toys and stuffed animals. He smiled to himself and inspected the closet as well. Inside hung shirts and jackets, clustered by color. Tiny shoes were lined up like toy soldiers on the floor below.

      In the dresser, he knew he would find pajamas, shorts, pants, socks and extra bedding. A colorful quilt lay across the end of the crib and a small set of bookshelves boasted alphabetically arranged children’s books.

      Tula might thrive in chaos herself, he mused, but here in the baby’s room, peace reigned. Everything was tidy. Everything was calm and safe and…perfect. He’d had a crew in to paint the room a neutral beige with cream-colored trim, but Tula had pronounced it too boring

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