BONNIE K. WINN
is a hopeless romantic who’s written incessantly since the third grade. So it seemed only natural that she turned to romance writing. A seasoned author of historical and contemporary romance, her bestselling books have won numerous awards. Affaire de Coeur chose her as one of the Top Ten Romance Writers in America.
Bonnie loves writing contemporary romance because she can set her stories in the modern cities close to her heart and explore the endlessly fascinating strengths of today’s woman.
Living in the foothills of the Rockies gives her plenty of inspiration and a touch of whimsy, as well. She shares her life with her husband, son and a spunky Westie terrier who lends his characteristics to many pets in her stories. Bonnie’s keeping mum about anyone else’s characteristics she may have borrowed.
FAMILY TIES
To every thing there is a season, and a time for every event under heaven…a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance…a time to embrace…a time to love.
—Ecclesiastes 3: 1-8
Dedicated to my husband, Howard, a man of faith and romance, an irresistible combination.
Prologue
Houston, Texas
T he day was too bright, the sun too cheerful, Cindy Thompson decided. It should be gray, overcast, perhaps drenched with rain or swept by relentless wind. But only a mild breeze stirred the sweet, spring air. It was the best time of year in Houston. Plagued by heat and humidity, the near-coastal city could rarely boast of mild, pleasant days. But it was something Cindy had been accustomed to, growing up there alongside her sister, Julia.
But Julia no longer had to worry about hot and cold, about sunshine and rain. Still the light shone mercilessly on her mahogany coffin, revealing the grain of the highly polished wood and the creamy hue of the pure white floral spray. Two lone ivory ribbons proclaimed “wife” and “mother.”
Cindy swallowed another rush of tears, her gaze sliding yet again to her brother-in-law, Flynn Mallory, and his three tiny, identical daughters. Julia would be pleased, Cindy thought irrationally. The girls were dressed beautifully. Matching dresses of deep green velvet, no doubt from Houston’s finest children’s store, shiny black Mary Janes, spotless ivory tights.
The triplets were just barely twenty-two months old, matching bundles of endless energy. Cindy wondered how Flynn had managed to ready them with such precision. From what she’d known, Julia had been their sole caretaker since Flynn was always working, striving to improve his already-prosperous business.
Cindy had offered to help with the girls, but Flynn had firmly refused. Not much had changed. Flynn was still holding her at arm’s length. Shaking away the painful memories, Cindy bent her head for the closing prayer, offering one of her own for her beloved sister.
Silence sliced over the crowd now as they waited for Flynn to rise. He did so slowly, trying to hold three tiny hands with his own larger ones. Taking that cue, Cindy reached for baby Alice’s hand, since she was seated beside her. Flynn didn’t protest, for once looking out of control and a bit lost.
“Mommy?” little Beth asked, looking as lost as her father.
Flynn’s face worked, his lips seemingly trying to form words his heart refused to utter.
Seeing his pain, Cindy knelt down beside the girls, enveloping them in a hug. Then she gave each of them a single pink rosebud, Julia’s favorite. Quietly she led them to the casket, allowing each to place a flower on the sun-warmed wood.
Flynn watched helplessly, barely acknowledging soft-spoken condolences of friends as they filed past. Clearly his world had been shattered. Julia had been a rock, the nucleus of their family. Cindy had always imagined her sister growing old, surrounded by Flynn and a passel of adoring grandchildren. But that wasn’t to be.
Any more than her own happiness was to be.
Cindy shook away the thought, immediately ashamed of her pettiness. Her only concern could be the children. Cindy intended to delay her return to Rosewood. She wouldn’t abandon her sister’s children. She owed it to Julia and even Flynn’s resistance wouldn’t stop her. She knew, however, it was only temporary. She couldn’t hope to be included where she wasn’t wanted. But in the meantime she would shower the girls with love…and pray they wouldn’t forget her.
Chapter One
Rosewood, Texas
One year later
D riving slowly, Flynn Mallory surveyed the main street of the small Hill Country town he’d chosen to call home, a hamlet far different from Houston. And incredibly far from the only roots he’d ever known. He and Julia had never visited Rosewood. Cindy had made the infrequent trips to Houston, saying she could combine business with pleasure. It had suited Flynn. It wasn’t easy to travel with the triplets and he’d felt no need to survey Rosewood until now.
But Rosewood offered what his daughters really wanted—their aunt Cindy. For the millionth time, Flynn regretted the loss of his family…his entire family. There was no loving family member to turn to. No one who could offer help or advice. No Mallory grandparent, aunt or uncle who could help the girls know they were loved. Cindy wouldn’t have been his choice if he’d had anyone else to turn to. But his relatives were all dead and Cindy was the only member left of Julia’s family. Cindy was irresponsible and fun loving, but he could provide the stability his children needed. They could visit with Cindy once a week and get the emotional bonding they craved while he ensured a secure environment.
For a moment Flynn thought he’d taken a wrong turn. The eclectic, charming neighborhood was old and well-worn, the yards filled with ancient oaks and carefully pruned rose gardens.
Expecting a sleekly modern condo, Flynn looked for a place where he could turn his vehicle around. But then he spotted Cindy’s address. There was no mistake. The numbers sat atop a nameplate of swirling letters that spelled out Thompson. But he still wasn’t reassured. The softly faded old Victorian house didn’t fit his image of Cindy.
Climbing out of his SUV, Flynn strolled up the red brick sidewalk. A magnificent aged magnolia tree perfumed the air, its dark glossy leaves looking as though they’d been polished by hand. Flynn knew the slow-growing tree had to be at least one hundred years old. But the house looked that and then some.
Unable to stop staring, he climbed the steps to the wraparound porch. Flynn reached for a doorbell and found an old brass knocker instead. He glanced upward at the gently curving eaves, pounding a bit more loudly than he intended. And within seconds the door whipped open. A disheveled, startled-looking Cindy stared at him.
Since she looked flustered, he offered a smile. “I did call.”
Cindy pushed at a lock of flame-colored hair framing her forehead. Then she pulled back the door, opening it wider, looking surprisingly flushed. “Of course. I’m sorry. I got caught up in some painting and lost track of time.” She held up a brush covered in bright yellow paint, then glanced down at her paint-splattered overalls. “Give me just a minute to wash my hands.” She gestured past the foyer to an inviting room. “Make yourself comfortable.”
Not surprised that the irresponsible Cindy was off schedule, Flynn nodded, walked in, then went down the single wooden step into the parlor.
It was the only word to describe the room. A huge, leaded-glass bay window kept the old-fashioned room bright. The whimsical furniture was as intriguing as it was impractical. Delicate needlepoint chairs that didn’t look as though they could support real humans were drawn up to a table set with translucent cups and saucers, a matching bone-china teapot, and bite-size sandwiches.
Raising his eyebrows, he noted that a fainting couch replaced a more conventional sofa. Nothing about Cindy’s house met his expectations.
“I’m sorry,” she said, gliding into the room, sounding a bit breathless. “I promised my friend Katherine I’d have the bookcases for the Sunday school rooms painted this week. There didn’t seem to be so many when I volunteered,” she ended with a smile.
He shrugged, knowing little about Sunday school and its expectations. He’d been a boy when he’d last attended church. And that was a lifetime ago.
She moved toward the prepared table with a teapot. “It’s hot.” She gestured to the thick fabric covering the pot. “The cozy keeps it warm. Tea?”
“It’s not necessary.”
Cindy kept her smile in place. “Perhaps not, but it’s very civil.”
He relented, realizing she was being gracious and he was being ungrateful. There had been little time in the last year for niceties. Every available moment had been spent chasing the triplets and trying to decide whether he was making the right decision in moving to Rosewood. It wasn’t Cindy’s fault that he was feeling so pressed. She was simply trying to help. He forced himself to relax. “My appointment with the Realtor isn’t for another hour.”
Cindy poured the tea and handed Flynn a cup. “So you’re still certain you want to move here?”
Awkwardly he balanced the small, fragile cup, not ready to admit his apprehension. “I’m ready for a change of scenery. Everywhere I look or go, I’m reminded of Julia.” He caught her questioning gaze. “Not that I don’t want to remember…”
“I understand. But won’t you have to face it sometime?”
He frowned. “I’ve faced her death, the fact that I have to go on alone. But the girls need a change.” Unwilling to share how upsetting this was with her, he switched subjects. “And I couldn’t take looking for another baby-sitter.”
She offered him the sandwich platter. “That bad?”
He took a few of the crustless diamond-shaped snacks, his hands seeming unusually large and clumsy amidst the fragile delicacies. “Worse. I wanted to be sure that whoever was taking care of the girls was responsible.”
She drew her brows together, a shadow eclipsing the bright curiosity in her eyes. “That didn’t work?”
He paused for a moment, examining the odd little sprouts that edged the filling of the delicate sandwich. “Depends on your point of view. The first baby-sitter, Mrs. Sanders, took charge immediately. I imagine there were POW camps run with more humor. Even I was tiptoeing around the woman. I didn’t want the girls growing up believing they had to snap to attention in their own home.”
Cindy laughed. “Surely there was a compromise.”
“I hired former schoolteachers, and even a registered nurse.”
“Weren’t they better than the commandant?”
“Somewhat. But the truth is no professional caretaker’s going to love the girls and care for them like someone in the family would.”
Cindy’s fingers tightened around the handle of her teacup and she paused for a moment before she spoke. “You’re right, of course. But aren’t you worried about uprooting the girls?”
“From preschool?” Flynn shook his head, knowing it wasn’t the girls who would be uprooted. “They’re young enough to adjust to a move. More so than to the loss of their mother. The only reason I’m considering relocating is because of them.” Even if it meant reconnecting with a woman he considered best forgotten. “Everything I do is in their best interest.”
“I know it is, Flynn,” she responded, her gaze resting on him intently. “I’m just trying to be a good sounding board. This is a big step, and Julia’s only been gone for a year.”
“True. But I didn’t just wake up one morning with a wild hair. I’m able to provide almost every monetary need my children have, but I can’t produce a family I don’t have.”
Cindy nodded, knowing he, too, was the last member of his family. “I may be one of the few people in the world who can understand that.” It had been a devastating blow for Cindy to lose Julia since they were the last two left in their family. Still, something about Flynn’s uncharacteristic behavior bothered her. He was not the sort of man who moved to an unseen town on a whim.
“And you can’t force a connection,” Flynn was saying. “Children either feel that for a person, or they don’t. And the girls feel it with you.”
Tears misted in Cindy’s eyes and her lips trembled, emotion overshadowing caution. “They mean so much to me. Thank you for showing your trust in me.”
Flynn hesitated, but knew he had to be honest. His daughters were too precious to him for anything less than the truth. “You won’t have to take on any responsibility with them.”
She blanched, then recovered quickly. “Of course.”
Flynn didn’t want to hurt her, but she had to know the real purpose of their move, why he was doing this against all reason. “The girls need an emotional connection with you, rather than help with their upbringing.”
Cindy’s head bobbed up and down a bit too vigorously. “I understand. And I suppose you’ve worked out something for your company.”
He tried not to remember how much that hurt, as well. “After Julia died, my vice presidents banded together, running things so efficiently that it became apparent I wasn’t needed for the day-to-day operations.”
“Won’t you miss it?” she asked softly. “It’s been a big part of your life.”
More than she could possibly know. “I’m not content to glide along on past accomplishments.” He forced enthusiasm into his voice, guessing otherwise the words would ring with empty truth. “I need something new, something challenging.”
“And you can find that in Rosewood?” Cindy asked skeptically.
Flynn managed a reasonable chuckle. “Aren’t you being a bit snobbish about your adopted home?”
“Not at all. Just realistic. We’re a long way from boardrooms and stock quotes.”
“Not as far as you think. With the Internet, you can be in Iceland and have as much access to Wall Street as anyone in New York. But I just want the right place to retreat, one where I can recoup, try to start again.”
Her expression softened. “I know it’s been difficult for you. I miss Julia terribly every day. I remember her laugh, her way of making the worst situation bearable.” Cindy met his eyes. “It must be far worse for you—especially trying to be mother and father to the girls. But the important thing is that the girls do have you. The rest will come in time.”
Uncharacteristic doubt assailed him as it had since Julia had died. “You’re so sure?”
Cindy took a deep breath, the green of her eyes deepening to near emerald. He wondered at the emotion that skittered across her face. “As sure as any one person can be. The Lord never gives us burdens that are heavier than we can bear.”
He shrugged impatiently, thinking her talk of faith must be her latest fad, one that would no doubt be forgotten soon. He knew from experience that she’d be better off without that treacherous fantasy. “Church seems like ancient history.”
She searched his eyes. “That’s too bad. You won’t find anything more relevant and timely.”
He glanced at his watch. “Speaking of time, would you like to go with me to meet the Realtor? After all, you recommended Linda Baker. Besides, you know the town. You can steer me away from any lemons.”
The edge of her mouth curled upward. “Kind of takes the adventure out of the process, doesn’t it?”
“You’ve forgotten, Cindy. I don’t care for adventure.”
Cindy hadn’t forgotten. She’d simply pushed that truth to the back of her consciousness. Along with the cache of emotions Flynn Mallory created. While he waited in her parlor, Cindy reached for a change of clothes, remembering the first time she’d met him.
She and Julia were at a party. Spotting Flynn Mallory, Cindy knew immediately that everything about him seemed larger than life. From his shock of unruly chestnut hair to the fire in his dark eyes, to the fierceness of his determination. She had never met anyone like him. Immediately she was attracted to his strength and purpose. Unlike the other young men in the group, he had a maturity and confidence that set him apart. Cindy hadn’t doubted from the moment she met him that he would succeed. Everything about him said he wouldn’t allow anything less.
She’d been equally determined to make him hers.
And that remained one of the foremost failures in her life.
After she and Flynn had shared one electrifying gaze that she still couldn’t forget, Cindy had fallen hard and fast. Unable to still what had momentarily flowed between them, in the ensuing weeks Cindy had employed every trick she knew to interest him. Not because she wanted a mild flirtation, but because she had truly fallen in love with him.
But the more bizarre and outlandish her efforts, the more he withdrew. She and Julia saw him often in their social circle. But Flynn began to concentrate on Julia. He clearly valued Julia’s stability and desire to have a family.
And despite his initial attraction to Cindy, he seemed determined to ignore the adventure she craved. And that was something she’d never understood. For it seemed the fire in his eyes matched hers. It was the first and only time she’d ever felt that way about a man.
Even though it broke her heart, she backed off when he and Julia became serious. And she steadfastly accepted the position of maid of honor for Julia, cheerfully organizing showers, parties and wedding breakfasts.
If there were tears beneath the smiles, no one knew. And Cindy told herself that her feelings for Flynn would fade. That in time, she would come to view him as a brother. But that hadn’t happened.
Instead, to extricate herself from the situation, a few months after the wedding she had moved to Rosewood where her best friend, Katherine Blake Carlson, was the pastor of the community church.
In the time that followed, Cindy had seen her sister far less frequently than she would have liked. She made sure she visited when Flynn was away on business, keeping the pain at bay. When she did occasionally run into him, it all rushed back, though. He was unfailingly polite when they met, but she could tell that despite the passage of time he still saw her as flighty, unfocused. And she didn’t try to change that opinion. It didn’t really matter anymore.
Yet his tie to Julia and subsequent place in their family remained an unhealed wound. So Rosewood became Cindy’s escape, her place of peace.
And now Flynn Mallory was shattering that to bits.
Cindy shook back her hair, added earrings, then picked up her purse, feeling strangely nervous about being in Flynn’s company.
For an instant she remembered his startling phone call a month earlier—the one that promised to change her life and threaten her secure existence. She’d wanted nothing more than to ask him to stay away—not to move to Rosewood. But she couldn’t deny her nieces a chance for happiness. If she truly could help them, she wouldn’t put her own concerns ahead of theirs.
And it was nothing short of a miracle that Flynn had asked for her help. It was a complete turnaround for him…and a point she couldn’t stop questioning. Why, why was he doing this?
Taking a breath, Cindy stepped through the expansive arched doorway that led into the parlor. Flynn turned just then. And despite her best intentions, she caught her breath.
He stepped forward and she exhaled, praying silently for strength.
“I’m ready,” she announced, forcing cheerfulness into her tone.
When he glanced at her, she wondered if it was disapproval she saw registering in his expression. Self-consciously, she smoothed the soft fabric of her long, flowing, deep purple skirt. Belatedly it occurred to her that the choice might be a bit wild for Flynn. Julia had always dressed and acted much more conservatively. Their parents’ death had stolen Julia’s sense of adventure. Cindy had reacted in just the opposite fashion—she needed excitement and new challenges to feel alive. But then everything about her had been too wild for Flynn.
She tried not to dwell on that as they walked outside and settled into his SUV. Once inside it, however, her nervousness increased. The spacious vehicle seemed oddly intimate.
“So, what do you think of Rosewood?” she asked, trying to chase away her nerves.
He shrugged as he handed her the directions Linda had given him. “Haven’t seen much of it yet.”
“There’s a lot of history here, but not anything too high-tech.”
“You have electricity and phone lines?”
She blinked. “Of course.” Then she realized he was teasing. “Except on candle day, of course.”
He took his attention from the road. “Candle day?”
She met his gaze. “Keeps us from becoming too dependent on technology.”
He lifted his brows in acknowledgment. “Guess you hope it doesn’t fall on stormy days, then.”
She pursed her lips. “So the wind doesn’t blow out our candles?”
“Right.”
The teasing exchange allowed her to relax a fraction. “It’s really a good place to raise children. People watch out for each other, the schools are filled with teachers who care. And our church pulls together through good times and bad.”
“You make it sound idyllic.”
Cindy turned to gaze at the crepe myrtle trees in full bloom, their delicate blossoms coloring the landscape. As she did, she thought of her own loneliness, the empty nights, the longing for what would never be. “Not exactly idyllic. But genuine.”
“That’s rare enough in the world today.”
Agreeing, Cindy nodded. Seeing that they were nearing the turn to the address he’d given her, she pointed out the way.
“Linda promised to show me the best Rosewood has to offer,” Flynn commented as he made another turn.
“She’s a great Realtor, as well as a nice person,” Cindy acknowledged. “And hopefully she’ll have some decent listings.”
Glancing at her, he frowned. “That was said with a bit of doubt.”
Cindy hesitated. “Rosewood doesn’t have much growth, so there’s not a lot of new home construction. People tend to settle in and stay in one place. I think only one new subdivision’s been built in the last twenty years. So, not much was available when I started looking. Luckily I was able to stay with Katherine because it took me a while to find my place.”
“Is that how you wound up in the Victorian?”
“Oh, no! It’s exactly what I wanted. That’s why it took so long. I’ve dreamed of owning one of the painted ladies as long as I can remember. I didn’t want to settle for anything else.” Or anyone else, she added silently.
Flynn glanced at her in baffled astonishment and she wondered why he seemed so surprised. Belatedly she also wondered just what he had expected.
Then, rounding the corner, they arrived at the first house. A cheerful Linda Baker waited on the front porch.
As they walked through the house, Cindy found her gaze going more toward Flynn than the smallish interior. Sunshine spilled through the uncurtained windows, brightening the rooms. Flynn turned just then and the light framed his uncompromising features. Despite the fact that his lips didn’t rest in a smile, she was so drawn to him, it was nearly a physical ache. What was it about this one man that touched her heart in a way no other had?
His gaze shifted, meeting hers, and for a moment she glimpsed uncertainty. As instantly she knew it to be a rarity for him. Again she wondered why he was doing this. How could he consider moving to this sleepy town so far from everything that was intrinsically him?
Flynn again shifted his gaze, obviously unwilling to share that truth with her. But it didn’t stop her wondering, nor her awareness when he brushed by.
She pulled back swiftly, yet she could see his eyes widen in startled surprise. Her vivid purple skirt twirling, she spun away from him, practically running toward the front door.
A few moments later Linda joined her, keeping her voice low. “I really thought he’d like this one.”
Perhaps if Flynn didn’t find a house to his liking, he would abandon his plan to move to Rosewood, Cindy mused silently. Just as instantly she remembered her bond with Julia, her responsibility to her sister’s children.
Soon they were on the way to the second house. Then the third. Again, Flynn patiently outlined all of his needs to Linda, who listened carefully, but not too hopefully.
And it was only downhill from there. Everything they’d seen was in need of major repair. Also, none of the houses seemed to suit Flynn. Even with significant renovations, Cindy couldn’t see him in any of these homes, including the one they now viewed.
“This one’s a bit on the modern side,” Linda told him, obviously trying to interject some enthusiasm into her voice for the not-too-inviting house. “That should appeal to a forward-thinking man.”
“Hmm,” Flynn replied.
“It has quite a bit of potential,” Linda added hopefully.
Flynn glanced at the unusual roofline. “What was this originally? A school?”
“Yes. But it had extensive renovations when it was converted. The kitchen—”
Flynn, however, was shaking his head. “Anything left to show me?”
“I’m afraid not. The only other listings in town are a few two-bedroom starter homes that aren’t nearly as large as you’ve told me you need. Honestly, if I thought another Realtor would have something more appropriate, I would tell you. But there’s only one other company in town and we’re both on a multi-listing system. I’m afraid that with this temporary housing shortage, there just isn’t much of a selection.” Linda drew her brows together. “Actually, knowing what you want, especially considering your preference for contemporary, I think you ought to consider building.”
“Won’t that take a while?” Cindy asked, wondering if this could be the relief she’d hoped for.
“Probably,” Linda agreed.
“But I’ve already sold my house in Houston,” Flynn told them in a surprisingly defeated tone.
Cindy tried not to let her breath escape in a huge whoosh. “You did?”
“Yep. I thought I’d find something here.”
“Perhaps Linda has the right idea—build a house. Can’t you hold off the closing date on your house?”
“Nope.” His expression tightened. “We closed last Friday.”
Cindy winced.
“I wish I hadn’t told the girls we were moving right away,” Flynn muttered. “I realize now it was a hasty plan, but I never thought I’d encounter a housing shortage.”
Linda brightened suddenly. “Cindy, you’ve got a ton of room at your house. If Flynn decides to build, maybe he and his kids could stay with you until his house is finished.”
Nonplussed, Cindy stared first at Linda, than at Flynn.
“We couldn’t impose,” Flynn began.
“Well, it wouldn’t be imposing,” Cindy found herself saying. What could she say with Linda staring at her with those puppy-dog eyes and Flynn looking like a stalwart, if bereft, widower? “It can’t take that long to build a house,” she added weakly.
“And I have the perfect contractor!” Linda exclaimed. “Roy Johnson—my cousin. He just finished a job, and I know he’s available. And there’s plenty of land for sale locally.”
Flynn still looked torn. His gaze was probing as he met Cindy’s. “Are you sure about this?”
Her throat thickened as every bit of her common sense screamed No! “Of course. What’s family for?”
“But this is a lot to ask,” he responded in a tone that made Cindy wonder if he wanted to be talked out of the plan.
“Cindy’s always helping everybody in town!” Linda exclaimed. “I’m sure she’d love to help her own family for a change. She told me about those darling triplets of yours.”
Cindy stared helplessly at Flynn, realizing she’d been caught in a trap of her own good works and inability to spit out the truth.
But he was looking more than a bit flummoxed and reluctant himself. “I can rent an apartment while the house is being built.”
Linda shook her head. “Not in this town. Everything for rent is snapped up by the oil folks—Adair Petroleum’s opened a new regional office here to oversee pipeline and trucking operations. The only housing you can find is for sale. And there aren’t a lot of those—well, you just saw them. Because of this small boom, there’s a real housing shortage. To be honest, it probably won’t last long. Everyone at Adair should be settled in a few months down the road and then things will get back to normal. But that won’t do you a lot of good right now.”
Flynn looked at the unattractive house. “Then I’ll buy something temporary.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Cindy burst out. “Everything we’ve seen today will take a lot of fixing up just to be livable. By that time, your house could be built.” She felt herself digging an even deeper hole, but knew her conscience wouldn’t allow her to be quiet. The triplets didn’t deserve more disappointment. At their age, a few months’ delay would seem like an eternity. “Linda’s right. I have plenty of room. You and the girls can stay with me.”
“I would like to oversee the construction of the house,” Flynn pondered, still not sounding convinced, but rather, trapped.
Which put them both in the same position.
“Then it’s all settled!” Linda exclaimed, looking like a Girl Scout who’d done a good deed, and certainly the only happy member of their trio. “I’ll assemble lists of available land right away.”
Cindy forced her smile to widen as she met Flynn’s gaze. “Looks like you’re all set.”
He considered her words for a moment, looking as though he wished he had another option. Any other option. “I can put the furniture in storage. We could probably be here in about two weeks. That’ll give you time to change your mind, Cindy.”
Two weeks. The words flashed through her like a bad mantra. Two weeks until everything she knew was turned upside down. Two weeks until the man she loved moved into her life. And her house.
Chapter Two
F lynn couldn’t hold three hands at once. He tried, but one always slipped away. He’d taught the girls to hold each other’s hands so they wouldn’t get separated. But on days like today excitement outweighed caution.
They stood on the curving sidewalk that led to Cindy’s house. As they did, Flynn took a deep breath, wondering yet again if moving to Rosewood was a mistake. He’d almost turned the SUV back around a dozen times on the drive from Houston. It didn’t matter that the house was sold; he could find another place to live in Houston.
“Swing!” Alice exclaimed just then, pointing to the old-fashioned two-seater that was suspended from the tall rafters on the front porch.
“An’ flowers,” the softer-spoken Mandy added.
“Mommy flowers,” Beth chimed in, referring to the roses her mother had loved.
Flynn felt that subtle clutching of his heart—one that always followed mention of Julia. The girls spoke of her less and less often, their young memories fading already. Yet, each comment was a new wound. However, it was a wound of guilt—one that came from the reminder that he wasn’t thinking enough of Julia.
Flynn was appalled that he, too, was beginning to forget little things, that days passed with little or no thought of her. He wondered if the progression was normal, or if he was as unfeeling as his own mother had been.
The front door opened just then and Cindy stepped onto the porch.
“Cinny!” In unison, the girls shouted their name for her. Breaking away from him, they hurried up the sidewalk and then the wide steps. Reaching the porch, three compact bodies hurtled toward his sister-in-law.
Laughing, she caught them, exchanging huge hugs and kisses. “Hello, darlings! I thought you’d never get here!”
“Us here,” Beth replied, grinning.
“And you’re so tall,” Cindy continued. She cocked her head, studying them in mock amazement. “By next week you’ll all be as tall as me!”
The girls giggled madly.
“Uh-uh!” Alice protested.
“I don’t know,” Cindy teased, shaking her head. Then she reached down, picking up the toddler.
Immediately, the other two clambered to be picked up, as well. Still laughing, Cindy scooted over to the swing, reaching for the other two, lifting them up to sit beside her.
“Now there’s a picture,” Flynn told her as he neared the porch, realizing as he spoke it was true. Cindy looked as unaffected and natural as the triplets. It was a warm and fuzzy image that could have graced a magazine layout.
“Daddy sit, too!” Beth demanded.
But he shook his head as he bent automatically to kiss Cindy’s cheek.
The startled response in Cindy’s eyes surprised him. But then it seemed to surprise her, as well.
Cindy spoke quickly to fill the gap. “Why don’t we go inside and get you all settled in?”
“Swing!” Beth demanded when Cindy stood up.
Flynn plucked his daughter from the swing, preempting her demand. The more malleable Mandy moved toward the door without protest. Alice, somewhere between mild Mandy and belligerent Beth, seemed to realize it was best to comply, as well.
“Why don’t I show you where the bedrooms are?” Cindy told him as she led the way. “Let’s grab the girls and head upstairs.”
Flynn obliged, picking up Beth and Alice. Mandy was content to latch on to Cindy. Upstairs, Cindy pointed out the room she’d chosen for Flynn. Although small, it was the least feminine one in the house. And directly next to it, she led them into a large bedroom, outfitted with three kid-size beds and an overflowing toy chest.
Squealing, the girls wriggled free and hurried over to the new bounty.
Overwhelmed, Flynn stared at her. “Cindy, you shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble. This is too much.”
She shrugged nonchalantly. “I do a lot of volunteer work and I bring home kids all the time so I had a lot of stuff.”
“In threesomes?”
Cindy grinned. “Well, not exactly. But it wasn’t that difficult to do a little rearranging.”
He stared at the freshly painted pink walls, a captivating also newly painted mural, ruffled lace curtains and a newly upholstered window seat that matched the mural. “A little rearranging?”
“Okay. Guilty as charged. But I enjoyed doing it. And, really, cross my heart, I had the other kid paraphernalia.”
Despite her protests, gratitude flooded him. Julia had lavished attention on her children, but they’d sorely missed a woman’s touch since then.
“Look, Daddy!” Alice shouted, bringing him a bright pink-and-silver unicorn. The soft stuffed toy was toddler safe with no plastic eyes or nose for little ones to swallow.
He knelt down beside her. “That’s nice, baby.”
Happy with her treasure, Alice scooted away. Just as suddenly, Flynn felt exhausted. The past year had been an endless succession of trials and emotions. And now, without warning, Cindy had opened her life and home to them. It was as overwhelming as it was gratifying.
To his surprise, when he rose, he saw unexpected understanding in Cindy’s expression. But she didn’t comment on it. Instead, she smiled before turning to the triplets. “Okay, girls, we have tofu tacos for dinner. Who wants to eat?”
But the triplets were practically headfirst into the toy box.
“Probably should have told them about the tacos first,” Cindy mused. “No matter.” She glanced at Flynn. “Unless you’re hungry?”
“I’d kill for some coffee.”
She grinned. “You won’t have to get that drastic. I could use some myself. Why don’t we put up the safety gate at the top of the stairs and find our caffeine fix?”
“Won’t get any argument from me,” Flynn replied. But he made sure the safety gate was secure before he joined her in the farm-style kitchen.
He glanced around appreciatively. She had incorporated new appliances that resembled ones of yesteryear next to original freestanding cabinetry. She’d kept the integrity of the original structure, yet updated it enough to make it workable. He wondered what all the fronds of hanging dried herbs were for. Mixed among the bluish and sage green were also dried bouquets of roses and heather. It reminded him of a potently fragrant garden that had been preserved from past summers. “This is some kitchen.”
“Thanks. It’s one of my favorite rooms. I’m reworking them one at a time.”
“You’ve got a pretty big house, Cindy. Planning on filling it up soon?”
For a moment she froze, her hands filled with a pitcher and carton of cream. Then she laughed, a nervous sound in the otherwise relaxed kitchen. “What makes you ask?”
“Just a comment on your home. I didn’t mean to pry. Just thought maybe you were dating someone special.”
Her fingers clenched the handle of the pitcher before she relaxed enough to pour the cream. “You have a vivid imagination.”
“I thought maybe that was why you moved here.”
Suddenly breathless, she made a production of looking for the sugar. “Excuse me?”
“I couldn’t see any other reason for a young woman to move to the boonies. I thought it must be love.”
“Love?” she asked, her voice sounding strangulated.
“I am prying. Sorry.”
She fussed with the coffee cups, then added a plate of cookies to the tray before finally bringing it to the table. “No need to apologize.”
“Still, it’s a great house.”
Cindy smiled. “Anything newer or smaller cost a fortune. Not many people want to fix up these old painted ladies. This one needed a lot of gutting and repair. Not to mention horrendous utility bills that are eating into my trust fund.”
“You wouldn’t trade it for a new one,” he mused accurately, surprised to realize how much she seemed to fit with the charming old house.
“Nope. It’s drafty, always in need of fixing—and I love it.”
He accepted the coffee she offered, studying the rose pattern of the fine bone china cup and saucer. “No generic mugs for you.”
Her gaze followed his. “It’s one of my weaknesses—collecting china. But I only have one complete set. I collect orphaned cups and saucers—I must have twenty of them, each a different pattern.”
Flynn glanced at the other collectibles that lined her glass-fronted cabinets. “You like old things—antiques, I mean.”
“They have history. I like to imagine the people who once owned them.” She stared upward at the tall ceiling of the kitchen, then the original arched wooden-paned windows that brought the sunshine inside. “I couldn’t imagine living in a house that’s squeaky new, that hasn’t had time to develop character.”
“Like the one you convinced me to build,” he commented wryly.
She flushed suddenly, not a gentle blush, but a violent wave of color, a shortcoming that seemed to be a side effect of being a redhead. “I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean—”
But he dismissed her protest. “I know what you meant. And you’re right. This house suits you. I’m just not sure yet what suits me.” He’d known once, but everything about his life was uncertain now. Especially this move, the one that had him sitting next to her.
Compassion filled Cindy’s eyes. “You’ll know again, Flynn. It may not seem like it now, but you’ll find your way.”
“You sound remarkably certain.”
“It’s my faith,” she explained gently. “It makes me sure there’s a path for me. I might stumble now and then, but at the end of the day it’s always there.”
He nodded out of politeness, his own abandoned faith scarcely a bitter recollection.
Still, in comfortable silence they sipped the strong coffee and nibbled on buttery shortbread cookies.
Flynn cocked his ear, listening for the sounds of his daughters.
“I have a baby monitor,” Cindy remembered suddenly. “I’ll hook it up after dinner. In fact, it has enough units for all the bedrooms upstairs and one here in the kitchen.”
Quizzical, Flynn studied her face. “Why do you have a baby monitor?”
“As I said, I bring home kids now and then from my volunteer work. With a big old house like this, the monitor saves a lot of steps. One of the first little ones I brought home with me kept escaping from his crib. That’s when I discovered baby monitors. Of course, with that little curtain climber, I could have used an alarm system.”
An unexpected smile crossed Flynn’s face. “That bad?”
“Unequivocally. And, of course, to make matters worse, he was an absolute charmer, so I could never stay mad more than a few seconds.”
“That would be rough,” Flynn remarked.
“Especially when it was time for him to go home. The house was deadly dull and I didn’t get nearly enough exercise.”
A thud from upstairs echoed through the floorboards. “I have a feeling you won’t be lacking in exercise now.” He stood. “I’ll go check on them.”
Cindy watched him leave, feeling her heartbeat settle to a near-normal rate. At this pace, she’d be a wreck in less than a day. Watching everything she said, trying not to read something into his words…. Briefly she closed her eyes, masking the questions. But not the big one. Had she made a terrible mistake in agreeing to let Flynn stay in her home? Would he somehow discern her hidden feelings? And could her heart stand this constant assault?
Again she heard a few thuds overheard, then the clatter of many small feet on the wooden stairs. Rounding up the troops, she realized.
In moments, the girls scampered into the kitchen and many of her apprehensions faded. How could she not give everything in her power to them? They were Julia’s legacy, the only tangible link she had left. Little Mandy clutched Cindy’s leg and the last of her reservations melted even more. Whatever it took, she would help these girls. No matter what it cost her own heart.
The following day, Flynn used a few rocks to anchor the blueprints on a portable camp table. Rudimentary but effective. The breeze was light, yet it ruffled the rolled paper just enough to keep it out of alignment.
Cindy glanced at the papers, then at the lot Flynn had purchased. “Are you happy with them? The architect drew up the plans awfully fast.”
His gaze remained on the lot, but he didn’t look especially pleased. Instead it was a contemplative expression. “Rand Miller’s a friend. And he put together the complex for my insurance company.”
“Does he design homes, too?”
“Usually bigger ones than I’m planning, but yes. He’s doing this one as a favor to me.”
“Has he seen the lot?” Cindy asked, her eyes on the triplets who seemed determined to pull up all the wild buttercups scattered across the field grass.
“We took a ride out here before he drew up the plans. Luckily, Linda showed me this lot first—so it didn’t take any time to decide.”
“The view’s good,” Cindy mused, appraising the gently knolled lot. “Are you planning to put the house at the top of the little hill?”
Flynn nodded. “That’ll make the best use of the plans. I want a lot of windows—so many, it looks as though the walls are made of glass. Which works out well since I’m going to have a solar energy system.”
Cindy pointed to the drawing of the roof. “This looks kind of unusual.”
“Good eye,” Flynn replied. “That’s a cooling pool. With all the brush out here in the fields, there’s a higher fire risk. The pool will keep the roof from catching a stray spark.”
“Hmm.”
Enjoying her polite but puzzled expression, Flynn laughed. “You don’t sound convinced. It’s not only for safety. We can swim in the pool, as well.”
“Ah…” Politeness gave way to pleasure, softening her face in an unexpectedly attractive way.
Not that she wasn’t already pretty…. Flynn felt his thoughts jerk in surprise. He’d always known what an attractive woman she was, but that had never mattered in the past. Not when Julia was alive. And because he and Cindy were all wrong for each other, it could never matter in the future.
“You’ll be glad of that in the summer,” Cindy was saying, her smile nearly as bright as her blazing hair.
“What’s that?” he replied, distracted by the wash of unpleasant memories.
She drew her brows together as she glanced at him in quizzical surprise. “That you can swim in the pool.”
“Oh…Yes.”
But Cindy didn’t seem to think his mental detour was significant. “The kids should love it.”
His expression mellowed. “I want to build swing sets and a playhouse, too, make the house a place they want to be.”
Cindy’s smile was at once tender yet nostalgic. “You’re a good father, Flynn.”
But he couldn’t easily accept the compliment. “I spent a lot of time away from them when they were babies. Julia was so competent. She and the girls were a perfect unit. It didn’t seem as though she really needed me to be there.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Flynn realized they were true. He’d never verbalized this vague feeling and it both surprised and embarrassed him that he’d made the confession to Cindy.
“Perhaps it just seemed that way,” she suggested gently. “The way our parents died changed Julia forever. You know she blamed it on their incurable zest for adventure.” Cindy paused, her expression reflective. “And I always felt that was why she became so efficient and capable. So much so that she no doubt thought taking charge of the girls was good for both of you. And she probably didn’t realize she was radiating such a self-sufficient image.”
“Maybe,” Flynn acknowledged, not completely buying the explanation. Cindy was right about their parents. Julia had confided early on that’s why she wanted stability and security, but it didn’t explain shutting him out. “I should have seen past that, made sure I was involved in raising my own children.”
Cindy moved a bit closer. “The important thing is that you’re here for the girls now. As difficult as this sounds, they probably don’t remember any of that earlier time.”
He nodded glumly, suspecting it wouldn’t be long before they lost all memory of their mother.
“Oh, Flynn! You don’t think they’ll forget their mother, do you?” Cindy exclaimed, obviously only that very moment realizing they could forget Julia.
But he couldn’t find any glib reassurances to offer. “I’ve worried about it. Even now, they speak of her less and less often.”
Dismayed, Cindy stared at him, tears misting her vivid green eyes, as she brought one hand to her mouth.
Flynn moved closer, his fingers closing around her arm. “Between us they’ll remember.” It was as much a promise as a resolution. A promise born of one he’d made long ago.
“She loved them so much,” Cindy murmured. “They have to know that.”
“They’ll see it in you,” Flynn told her, the response surprising both of them.
Cindy’s chin lifted, her eyes meeting his. “They will?”
“They’ve held an attachment to you that’s remarkable, considering how young they are, how seldom you used to see them. I can’t help but think it’s your connection to their mother.”
Slowly, almost painfully, Cindy nodded. “There was a time when Julia and I were so close, we used to imagine we were twins.”
Flynn frowned, the words giving him weighty pause. “You never seemed much alike to me.”
A smile rose from the pain on her face. “Probably not to anyone else. We don’t look anything alike—I’m the only renegade redhead besides my grandmother. And I’m as boisterous as Julia was refined, but it was something deeper. A connection in our souls. And that only strengthened after our parents died.”
“But you didn’t visit all that often. And you moved away from Houston,” he pointed out, wondering yet again about his elusive sister-in-law, remembering how he’d shut out any thoughts of her once Julia was his.
Cindy turned, her gaze fastening on the gently winding road that was nearly obscured by the great tracts of irrepressible wild grass. Her open expression didn’t slam shut; rather it sidled away so subtly, he wondered if he imagined the change.
“People grow up and away,” she finally answered. “Distance need not be more than a physical impediment. I don’t think it was for us.”
“She missed you,” Flynn admitted. “Especially since you were the last of your family.”
Pain vaulted past subtlety, ravishing her face. “I had no idea.”
“Don’t take the words to heart. But you should know how she felt, how she always valued your relationship.” He couldn’t admit that Cindy’s absence from their lives had been a relief to him. Flynn hadn’t needed or wanted reminders of what she represented, of what he had tried to escape every day since childhood.
Despite his reassurance, only a sparse bit of comfort mixed with the trepidation painting her face. “I should have visited more. I shouldn’t have let…”
“What?” he asked, when her words trailed away.
She brushed a tear from the corner of her eye, then shook her head. “Nothing.”
“Did you have an argument?” Flynn asked, wondering how he could have not known that.
“No.” For a moment her face brightened. “Julia wouldn’t have allowed it. Besides, she was my other half. Surely you’ve noticed that we were complete opposites?”
The fact that Cindy was her sister’s opposite in every way was still Cindy’s biggest downfall in his opinion, the reason he’d chosen Julia over her, yet he nodded.
“We seemed to complete what the other lacked. And I feel like my other half’s gone forever.” Suddenly she looked horrified. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I keep putting both feet in my mouth and tromping around like they’re clad in combat boots. I’m so sorry. You truly have lost your other half.”
“No need to apologize. We both lost her.” His gaze moved to include the girls, who were tossing wildflowers skyward, then giggling madly as the blossoms fell down upon them. “We all did.”
“Children are so resilient,” Cindy mused. “It’s one of the ways the Lord protects them.”
Flynn lifted his eyebrows but he didn’t respond, thinking it wasn’t worth arguing over. His own faith was long gone, and he still believed it wasn’t something Cindy would be spouting for long. “Hmm.”
But Cindy didn’t argue in defense. Instead, the expression in her eyes was so knowing and certain it defused any debate. At once, Flynn felt old defenses lock into place.
As his thoughts rumbled, he spotted the girls as they started running toward the road. Even though only a handful of cars had passed in the last hour, Flynn and Cindy both bolted after them. It didn’t take long to corral the children.
“All right, girls, you know better than to run toward the road,” Flynn began in a stern tone.
But the girls laughed as they jumped up and down, cutting off his reprimand.
Since where they stood was still plenty of distance from the street, Flynn tried not to overreact.
“Cows!” Alice hollered, pointing across the road.
Glancing up, Flynn saw a mild-mannered herd of dairy cattle munching on the grass. “So that was the attraction,” he muttered.
“You have to be wary of small-town dangers,” Cindy agreed in a serious tone. But the twinkle in her eyes gave her away.
“They do look pretty ferocious,” Flynn replied, seeing the cattle’s only movement was the swishing of hairy tails and the methodical chewing of cud.
A tiny giggle escaped even though Cindy was clearly trying to keep it under control. “We have some wild ice-cream socials here in town, too. Gotta be on your guard all the time.”
Flynn glanced down the empty road. “I can see that. There might even be a horse or two in the next pasture over.”
“Horsie!” Beth and Mandy repeated in delight.
“Cow!” Alice insisted.
“Just wait until a new movie comes to town.” Cindy couldn’t repress her grin. “The excitement’s enough to do you in.”
“I think for now the horses and cows will keep us entertained.”
Cindy’s expression was knowing and skeptical. “We’ll talk in six months when the biggest action in town is the fall carnival.”
“I haven’t been to a carnival since I was a kid.” The thought was unexpectedly warming. But Flynn knew what Cindy was driving at. Clearly she thought he would grow tired of small-town life, that Rosewood would lose its appeal. But everything else that had once held appeal for him was now gone. Yet instinctively he felt that the tiny town was right for him. Was it possible he’d been given another chance? Another place to call home?
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