LITMIR.BIZ

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the yellow sundress. “No,” she murmured, “that’s for Luke. Sherry must have gotten the outfits mixed up.”

      “Or she doesn’t buy into the notion of pink for girls, blue for boys.”

      It didn’t matter, of course. Clara oohed and ahhed over Luke’s pastel playsuit and blue sneakers, then studied the label. “Dear me, this will be too small. Luke outgrew the three-month size. Could you exchange it, Jenna, for the next one up? Even nine months might be better. I hate to inconvenience you—”

      “I’d be happy to exchange them.” Why hadn’t she thought of a bigger size? But Jenna had little experience with growing babies, and recently she’d bought mostly toys. “Grace’s present, too,” she said. “You don’t even need to open it.”

      Clara did anyway. She took great pleasure in examining the yellow sundress that had been wrapped in blue paper, one finger tracing the satin ribbon trim that wound through the bottom hem. “She’ll look adorable in this. Thank you.” Her eyes grew moist. “I’m so pleased Hadley has decided to stay here with them.”

      Jenna straightened. “I heard you were going to sell.”

      “I was, but Hadley lost his job at the NLS and decided to get this place going again instead of leaving or finding another job. How could I say no? If he succeeds, I’ll be able to keep my home, and the babies will have one, too. Next week he’ll look into buying our first cows.”

      The announcement startled Jenna. Was this good or bad for her? On one hand, the twins would still be here, and Jenna could keep checking on them as well as on Hadley. On the other, she would have to put up with him. And vice versa. His attitude wouldn’t make things easy.

      Clara studied her over the rim of her coffee cup, raised halfway to her mouth. “I’ve noticed you and Hadley aren’t exactly friends, but that man doesn’t know what he needs.”

      “That doesn’t sound like the Hadley Smith Amy described.”

      “You believe everything she told you?”

      “That sounds naive, doesn’t it?” But Jenna recalled the evenings she’d spent with Amy, hearing the other woman’s complaints about Hadley, relating their quarrels—which might or might not have happened as she said. Amy’s tears had been real, though, and not simply due to pregnancy hormones. Jenna had witnessed for herself how quickly Hadley’s temper flared. Because of her father, she knew all about how harmful that could be to a young person, and she’d definitely keep her eye on Hadley.

      Clara cocked her head to listen for a moment. “Ah, Luke’s up. Grace will be, too. That little imp never lets his sister sleep once he’s awake.”

      Wondering about her blind acceptance of Amy’s stories, Jenna sat motionless in her chair at the table after Clara had left the room. The older woman returned a few minutes later carrying one twin on each bony hip.

      Jenna couldn’t seem to move. This wasn’t the first time she’d become paralyzed at the sight of them, not the first time she’d wanted to pull back inside herself for protection, but Clara was having none of that.

      “Here we are!” she said brightly. “Which little angel do you want first?”

      Jenna thought of leaving before sorrow threatened to swamp her again. Then she remembered Hadley on the front walk obviously wanting her to go. And oh, how sweet they were! Grace with her fine features and rose-gold hair curling at her nape, Luke who was bigger with a sturdy frame and similar coloring, although his hair seemed to be getting darker. Being of different sexes, they were fraternal, not identical, twins, and so lovable just for being here that her heart turned over.

      Her hands twitched with the urge to hold them. When Clara plunked Grace on her lap, Jenna’s mouth went dry.

      Grace wriggled in her embrace, then patted one tiny hand to Jenna’s cheek, the baby’s face bright as if she had no doubt she was welcome in Jenna’s arms, and Jenna’s throat closed. “She’s smiling.”

      “They’ve been smiling since they were born, if you ask me. People say that’s only gas, but I don’t believe it. They laugh now, too. And you should see how Grace fixates on Hadley as if he’s the one person in the world she can rely on.”

      “Amy wasn’t as sure about that,” Jenna murmured, yet she couldn’t deny that since Amy’s death he’d stepped up to the plate. Hadley seemed to work hard and provide for them as best he could—in fact, she heard him hammering something down at the barn—yet the news that he intended to rebuild Clara’s ranch stunned her. If he really meant to stay longer, Jenna’s visits would be enough to fulfill her promise to Amy, yet he’d probably continue to object to Jenna’s very presence.

      “I know he’s never been one to settle down,” Clara went on, “but he has more reason now to sink a few roots.” She shifted Luke, who was trying to grab the pan of coffee cake off the table. “Time will tell,” she said with a meaningful look at Jenna.

      HADLEY COULDN’T PUT it off any longer. Ever since that tragic day at the hospital he had been meaning to look through Amy’s belongings and tonight seemed good enough. He admitted he’d been avoiding the task. If he and the babies were going to stay on the ranch for a while, he shouldn’t keep stalling. He also wanted to take a look at the standby guardianship application Amy had filed. Even though the court hearing had never taken place, the situation with Jenna was still an issue. He didn’t buy that her only reason for spending time with Luke and Gracie was some promise she’d made to Amy. He’d caught the melting look on her face more than once when she was with them. Now that their mother was gone, could she have some legal claim to his babies? And had she been biding her time, hoping to catch him in some misdeed with the twins?

      “Clara, have you seen the bins with Amy’s stuff in them?” he asked after dinner.

      “I believe they’re in the attic,” she said.

      Being careful not to wake the twins, Hadley went upstairs, then sat cross-legged on the wooden floor of the walk-up area under the roof beams. He forced himself to open the first bin and rummage through Amy’s things. When he’d moved from their apartment, he hadn’t taken time to sort out what to toss and what to keep for Luke and Gracie someday. Disoriented by Amy’s shocking death, by his new obligations, he’d thrown everything into bins for later. From then on, he’d had his hands full just trying to be a good dad when good wasn’t in his nature.

      The first item he came across was the bifold program from Amy’s funeral at the local church. It was the same place where, at her insistence, they’d been married, and where she’d sometimes attended services on Sundays. Without him. Hadley had resisted most of her attempts to change him from a bad boy into a solid citizen, something he now regretted, just as he regretted not trying harder to love her. She’d deserved better from him.

      With a hard lump in his throat, Hadley skimmed the program, then the small picture of her at the top. “Way too soon,” he murmured, tracing a finger over her image as if he could touch her again. “Never mind all those fights we had. As you told me, there were good times, too, in the beginning. Not sure what would have happened to us if you were still here,” he said, “but we’ll never know, will we?”

      Now he was on his own, plowing through her belongings in Clara’s attic.

      “Hadley?” Her voice came from the bottom of the stairs.

      “I’m here still. Come up if you want.”

      To be truthful, he didn’t like doing this alone. Every piece of paper he touched, every sympathy card and article of clothing he’d saved, spoke to him. Amy’s favorite green sweater, which he couldn’t bring himself to touch, the one she’d knitted herself with the too-long sleeves that always made him smile for her effort. The baby books she’d bought because “I don’t know any more about this than you do.” The last birthday gift he’d given her, a certificate for a day

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