shook his head. “I don’t know what it would be.”
“Enough paper? A snack? Maybe some coffee?”
Although he appreciated her concern, he’d never been comfortable accepting help. “Cindy, I’m not accustomed to having someone make all my decisions for me.”
She blanched for a moment. “I didn’t realize an offer of coffee constituted interfering.”
Flynn drew one hand back across his hair. “That’s not what I’m talking about.”
Her green eyes still looked stormy. “Then what?”
He gestured around the room, overwhelmed and embarrassed by her generosity. “This. Everything. I didn’t ask for an office, but you produced one anyway. Even after I told you I didn’t want it.”
Cindy’s fingers curled around the edge of the door. “You don’t have to use it,” she replied evenly. “After all, you’ve rented another office. If you don’t mind moving in there while they’re renovating, I certainly don’t.”
The pull and tug vibrated between them.
Suddenly half a dozen small footsteps thudded across the floor. “Cinny! Daddy!”
As the triplets approached, Cindy turned, ending the immediate need for resolution. She knelt as the girls reached her. “Why don’t we go swing in the backyard? Let Daddy work.”
“You’ve been taking care of the girls all day. Why don’t I take them outside?”
“I want Cinny!” Beth retorted.
Cindy glanced between Flynn and his daughters. “If your daddy helps you swing, I could set the table in the backyard and we could have supper there.”
“Supper?” Mandy asked.
“Veggie burgers,” Cindy replied. “They’re yummy.”
Flynn didn’t agree, but also didn’t want to snap her olive branch in half.
“Yummy,” Alice repeated.
He glanced at his daughters, more content in the last week than the last year. For that he could eat veggie burgers and granola. He could also somehow find a compromise with Cindy.
“And I’m about done with work for today,” he added, finding a second note of accord.
“Wanna make yummies,” Alice was requesting.
Cindy ran gentle fingers through her blond curls. “I can always use a good helper.”
“Good helper me,” Alice agreed.
“So you are.”
“Wanna swing with Daddy,” Beth stated more assertively.
“Me, too,” Mandy spoke up.
Flynn walked toward them, stretching his hands out toward the girls.
Beth and Mandy readily placed their small hands within his. Seeing the unsettled look that remained on Cindy’s face, Flynn relented. “Veggie burgers, huh? I don’t suppose we could have French fries with those?”
Unexpectedly her lips twitched. “To cancel out the healthy effect of the meal’s veggie portion?”
“Something like that,” he agreed. “I’m more a meat-and-potatoes kind of guy.”
Her smile widened. “Is that why you pick all the sprouts out of the salad?”
He winced. “I thought I was a touch more subtle.”
“Not especially.”
Surprise melted away the last of his reserve. “No kind demur?”
“No. That would have been someone else. Not me.”
Julia, he knew. Cindy wouldn’t say it in front of the girls, but it was true. Julia had always smoothed over any potential bump that could have put a ripple in any conversation. It had been the tone of their entire relationship.
Flynn walked outside with his daughters, losing himself for the moment beneath the cover of towering oaks and ivy-covered lattice work. The yard smelled of honeysuckle vines that poked fragrant blooms through the cracks of the weathered fence.
The swing set that sat on the longish grass was old, not new and shiny. But it was so sturdy, it could hold eight children; now it only needed to support his two small daughters.
Glancing back toward the house, Flynn wondered what it was about his sister-in-law that commanded such affection from his children. Alice had always clung the closest to him, never wanting to be separated. Beth might toddle off on her own, Mandy sometimes only a few feet behind. But not Alice. She was Daddy’s girl.
Only, now she seemed to be Cindy’s girl.
Inside, Cindy allowed Alice to pat and roll the burgers into shape. They were beginning to resemble small boulders.
“A Flintstones supper, Alice? Good job.” After washing the child’s hands, Cindy led her to the ancient French doors that opened to the backyard. “Why don’t you go swing for a while with Beth and Mandy?”
Happy to be with both Cindy and her father, Alice scampered contentedly away. Watching her, Cindy couldn’t help but wonder if all memories of Julia were fading from their young minds. For a moment she felt a stab of longing for her deceased sister, one more poignant than she’d felt since her untimely death. Even now, Cindy railed against the unfairness.
Colon cancer had struck silently, without warning. And Julia, in typical fashion, had persisted in acting as though nothing could go wrong with her perfect life, her perfect family. Ignoring the final, irreversible symptoms, she had died within six weeks of the diagnosis.
Julia’s little family was adrift. In Cindy’s backyard. Peering out the large windows, she saw how gentle Flynn was with his daughters. It was a side he showed only with them. Cindy couldn’t even remember seeing him treat Julia with the same tenderness. His manner toward Julia had always been filled with deep respect and devotion, but not tenderness. It was as though he’d placed Julia on a pedestal—one her sister had relished. Suddenly she wondered why.
The girls’ giggles floated through the open French doors. The low murmur of Flynn’s voice accompanied the happy sound. Even though she couldn’t understand the walls he constructed or the reasons for them, Cindy could see the joy he brought out in the girls. Although reluctant to cease her uncensored view, she gathered the charcoal lighter and matches.
Once outside, Flynn spotted her as she approached the grill. “I’ll start the fire,” he offered.
“Great. My least favorite part of eating outside.” She handed him the supplies, checking quickly to see that the girls were still safe.
Within a few minutes Flynn had a good fire going. Cindy rounded up condiments and place settings. However, when she brought out the plate containing the misshapen burgers, he raised his brows.
“Pretend
