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An hour later, Caleb waited in the elaborately decorated hospital chapel as his bride walked toward him. His children were held in the loving arms of their grandmother and grandfather, and every time he looked at them, he felt his chest swell with pride.
When he looked at their mother, it was more like awe. He couldn’t believe he’d gotten so lucky. But maybe… maybe luck had nothing to do with it. Selene kept insisting that it was no coincidence that caused him to have a flat tire in front of the OK Corral almost nine months ago. She kept saying it was something far more powerful. Something like fate.
When Maya stood beside him and slipped her hand into his, smiling up into his eyes with love shining from hers, he thought maybe his bride’s kid sister was wiser than any of them.
He slid a glance toward where Selene was sitting.
She gave him a nod as if she knew exactly what he was thinking.
EPILOGUE
So that’s the whole story. Well, not the whole story, but that’s how it began. I’m sitting here now on the wide front porch of my log cabin. The snow melted almost before Christmas Day was over; spring came as it always does. From here, I can look down on the farmhouse on the far side of the wildflower-dotted meadow below. It’s within shouting distance. Not that shouting is ever needed. My mom and sisters are up here as often as Caleb and the babies and I are down there. But we always were a close family. Always will be, too.
Edie’s still here. She’s been quiet and moody, and I think Mom has been letting her get away with that for the past few months, but her patience is wearing thin. Any day now I expect her to tell Edie enough is enough and it’s time to stop licking her wounds and tell us what went wrong out there in La-La-Land. Something sure did.
My dream house is almost exactly the way I pictured it. I say “almost” because I never pictured it this big and sprawling, but I guess that’s what happens when you marry a millionaire. Caleb got rid of the Lexus sports coupe, though. Bought a minivan for me and an Explorer sports utility for him. Eddie Bauer Edition, of course, but that’s okay. He managed to rent office space in town, just around the corner from Sunny’s Place, and he hung up a shingle that says Montgomery Law Office. He takes all kinds of cases—and many of his clients can’t afford to pay him. But he says that, luckily, he can afford to represent them.
He’s a hell of a guy, my husband.
Here he comes now, walking across the meadow from Mom’s house, a baby in each arm. Look at him, smiling and talking to them as if they can understand every word. Sometimes, the way they look at him, I almost think they can. We wanted to name our little girl after my mom. Vidalia. But Mom insisted we call her Dahlia instead. You know, like the flower. Mom said as much as she might deny it, it wasn’t easy growing up with an onion for a name. As for little Caleb, we call him Cal, just to avoid confusion. Tough having three men in the family with the same name. And Caleb’s father is around enough so that he finally broke down and rented a house in town, so he has a permanent residence out here. He could stay with us when he visits, of course, but he’s too stubborn to want to appear dependent. Still, he’s out here more than he’s in Tulsa. He took Caleb’s decision not to run for office far better than either of us expected him to. The old goat is so madly in love with his grandchildren that there isn’t much Caleb or I can say or do to upset him. But if he brings any more toys to the house, I don’t know where we’ll put them.
Caleb’s halfway to the house now. He just looked up and caught my eye. And the breeze is ruffling his hair. Gosh, when he looks at me like that, my stomach still clenches up. I love that man more than I ever thought possible. He healed my old wounds for me…and I like to think I helped mend some of his. And he gave me something more precious than gold—our babies. And his love.
And we’re happy—deliriously happy with our little family. And I think we will be for a long, long time.
A MOMMY FOR CHRISTMAS
CHAPTERONE
When he first opened the door to her knock, he thought the woman standing there was a homeless drug addict. And then he realized she was his wife.
Ex-wife.
For a second he just stood there staring at her. A bag of bones with stringy once-blond hair and drug-dulled eyes that used to sparkle like sapphires. Yeah, she was his ex.Anda drug addict. The one didn’t preclude the other, though if anyone had told him that five years ago, Jim would have pounded him into taco filler.
“Hi, Jim,” she said, face expressionless. She didn’t bother brushing the rapidly melting snowflakes from her hair or her shoulders. “It’s been a long time.”
Four years. Four long years. And now she was back and all he could feel was panic. “What do you want?” Not Tyler, he thought silently. Please, God, not that. Not that she would have a leg to stand on even if shehadcome for their son. She’d signed him away to save her own skin. After nearly killing him, she hadn’t had much choice about it.
“Not even going to invite me in? Say it’s good to see me? Ask how I’ve been?”
“I don’t particularly give a damn how you’ve been.” But he wasn’t sure how much longer her stick-figure legs were going to hold her, and it was chilly in the hallway. She was so skinny she was shivering. So he stepped aside and prayed Ty would remain blissfully sound asleep in his room. The boy needed a mother, was desperate for a mother. And Jim was working hard to find him one. Just notthisone.
Angela came inside, staring blankly at the wreath on the door as she walked past it. Real pine. He’d bought it last week and then he and Ty had spent hours decorating it with pine cones and tiny ornaments and a can of spray on snow. And some bells. Ty had insisted he add bells that would jingle whenever the door opened.
He’d have told her all that. But she wouldn’t have cared. She was already swinging the door closed behind her–he caught it before it slammed and closed it quietly. Looking around the apartment, she nodded slightly. “Nice place. Way nicer than our old one was.”
He shrugged. “I had to find a ground-floor unit. It’s easier on Ty.”
She nodded, trailing her fingers over the gleaming hardwood finish of a coffee table before sitting down on the couch. He almost winced at her sitting on the furniture. He had a lot of experience with addicts. They were usually dirty, often contagious. And she was an addict. No question. He hadn’t seen her in four years, but he’d seen her name countless times.
A second glance told him she wasn’t filthy. She’d bathed and her clothes had been washed recently. He thought she might have even run a comb through her hair. Not the usual behavior of the types he dealt with on a daily basis.
“What are you doing here, Ang?” He took a seat in a chair across from her, hoping she’d get straight to the point. He just wanted her out of there.
She lowered her head. “I need a favor.”
“Figures.” He didn’t try to hide his disgust. “Are you even going to ask how he is?”
