LITMIR.BIZ

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“I take that back. I’m a little upset.” She lifted the high chair’s table. “See, this works.”

      “I do like that. I’ll need to make sure it’s still safe for a baby.”

      “Good idea. I didn’t want Dad to live alone the rest of his life. I thought he’d find some lovely, stable woman.”

      “More his age?” Megan’s laugh was gentle. “But I am stable. I can get you references.”

      Emma laughed with her. “It’s just odd. You’re practically my age. He didn’t tell me you were pregnant until I came back.”

      “So I heard. He burst out with it as soon as the exterminator turned his back while they were showing you the termite damage here.”

      “Dad and I share a pretty strong tendency toward clumsiness.” Emma moved on to a rocking horse her father had painted dark green for her. “I remember when he put this mane and tail on. The original was bedraggled and gray.” She stroked the fine, honey-brown strands. Her choice of color. “I called her Miriam, and I braided for hours and hours. If you have a girl, she’ll love Miriam, too.” Emma turned the horse and dragged it toward Megan. “I feel disloyal toward my mother if I accept you, which is odd, since she and I are still on tense terms. I’m sure you heard what happened before I left for Europe.”

      “I’m sorry. I have heard.”

      Emma tugged at the rocking horse’s mane, braiding automatically.

      Megan shrugged with a self-conscious smile. “But your mother’s your mother. You can’t help loving her.”

      “I’m sorry I haven’t been more decent to you.” Emma meant the apology. She dropped Miriam’s braid and faced Megan full on. “Do you want anything you see?”

      Megan appeared not to hear. “Emma, I hope we can be friendlier from now on.”

      “I’ve been wary since I met you. I didn’t realize how much I’d cut you out until you left the clinic meeting without speaking to me. People around here think I’m—”

      “I don’t pay any attention to what they think.” Megan reached over to Miriam and began to rock her. “Though I’m sorry to tell you, I enjoy the crazy stories. Backyard stills and fights on stairs and pranks on tourists.”

      Emma relaxed her guard a little more. “The tourist pranks are more just putting on a show for them. Folks like you come down here from New York, expecting hayseed. There’s a moment in the life of every teenager in Bliss when she must offer the tourists a show.”

      “I never expected hayseeds. The teenage populace around here is a little defensive, though.” Megan also seemed to relax. She pointed. “What about that bookshelf?”

      Emma had once stored her books in it. The pale sage paint was peeling and scratched. “I could redo it for you if you want it.”

      “I’ll take you up on that, and I’d love the high chair and Miriam.”

      “Your baby can rename her if she wants.”

      “My little girl,” Megan said, rubbing her belly. “Our little girl, really. Brett’s and mine and yours, if you want to be part of her life.”

      Emma stared at her stepmother’s stomach. “My baby sister,” she said. “I’ll come back when she’s born.”

      “Maybe you’ll still be here. She’s due mid-December.”

      Emma felt the tug of home, of this house. Of love she might find if she stayed. Or love she might lose because she’d never been herself until she’d left this town, and coming back, she was already falling into old habits. “I won’t be here in mid-December.”

CHAPTER THREE

      THE ONLY GYMS in Bliss were located in the resorts on the mountain. Many of them opened their doors to local residents, and Noah chose the one with the largest heated pool. The morning after the meeting, when he’d finished working out with free weights, he changed for a swim.

      The second he kicked off, his breathing settled into a rhythm and his body took over. He heard only water, saw only pool and the ceiling overhead. The laps he swam healed him. He trusted these mornings to shut out the world and his discomfort in it.

      No one here needed anything from him. He had complete control. And propelling along the lane was like flying.

      It was better than sinking into a bottle of vodka—an instinct he feared—or using his fists to pound the town council into working for the good of their constituents. Such thoughts drove him to swim longer, faster.

      Today, he didn’t have to think. Emma, leaning against the library conference room doorway, confused, interested, troubled about Megan, flashed in his mind and refused to leave. Behind that image, he saw his first mistake: accepting her help. He’d sworn he’d stay away from her. He’d even argued with his mother about checking on Owen simply because he’d dreaded the possibility of seeing Emma, fearing the encounter would bring all his old rage back to the forefront.

      When she’d left town, he’d nearly broken his jaw in his struggle to repress his anger at her ultimatum—that he could either throw his life and plans away to follow her, or she would leave without him.

      That moment, when he’d realized she had no compassion for anyone except herself, had changed him. He didn’t want to love a woman like Emma, who’d used walking away as a weapon. She had problems with her mother, who loved too much, and her father, who’d been a cold fish until Megan had thawed him.

      Noah swam on, completely happy to drown his feelings.

      Then he heard a splash. Deana, who handed out towels at the pool entrance, had warned him a few weeks ago that a new swimmer had joined the pool, but Noah had evaded that company until today. He kept his head down.

      * * *

      “WHY IS YOUR hair so wet?” Brett Candler asked as Emma climbed out of her car in front of Baby Bliss, a store that sold fancy baby goods at exorbitant prices. “Where did you find a pool this time of year?”

      Emma hugged her father one-armed, the Candler hugging maneuver that required only a moment’s contact. “Do you get any exercise at all, Dad?”

      “Don’t tell Megan, but I’ve started running the lane between our house and your grandmother’s.”

      “Why not tell her? She’d probably be glad you’re running.”

      “Well, it’s more like odd raceZwalking,” he said. “And I don’t want her to see that.”

      “I’ll keep my relationship advice to a minimum, Dad, but she might like to odd-race walk with you. In fact, I would, too.”

      “You can. I don’t mind if you see me struggling. I’ll text when I’m heading your way in the evenings, but the day I’m breaking land speed records, I’ll fill her in. For now, she thinks I’m checking the fencing around both houses.”

      “I think she’s brighter than that.”

      Brett held the door to the shop for her. “She tells me you had a good talk.”

      “She was honest and sweet and invited me to stop being a jerk. I’m accepting her invitation.” Emma glanced up, catching her father’s stunned expression. “She didn’t put it that way, Dad. Don’t you know her?”

      “For a second, you made me wonder if you’d argued with her.”

      “I love a little drama, but I’d prefer to stop having it with people.” Emma avoided her father’s anxious gaze. She had to make things right with Megan. She studied the Baby Bliss items. “What about a stroller, Dad? Megan said you have a crib.”

      “A stroller. I don’t think we have one of those.”

      “What

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