we’re polar opposites.”
“Opposites attract,” he said so grimly she realized for the first time that he resented their strange chemistry even more than she did.
Because that gave her too much to think about, she made a disagreeing sound, turned away to look out the passenger window and tried to think about other things.
Soon she’d meet her brother for the first time. Her stomach danced with jittery butterflies. What would he be like?
What would great-aunt Edna be like? It hadn’t been until after their mother’s death just months ago that Jacob had even met Edna. She was Delia’s mother’s second aunt by marriage and until last year had lived in France—which was why twenty years ago, when Delia’s mother had left her in the foster home, there hadn’t been anyone available to help.
Jacob must be terrified; she’d certainly been all those years back. But in spite of everything, Delia considered herself lucky. She had found Zoe and Maddie, and they’d turned out to be her heart and soul.
Jacob had no one but Edna, and no matter how sweet and kind and wonderful she might be, it wasn’t the same as close family.
Delia didn’t fool herself. Getting close to Jacob—given the terse restrained phone conversations they’d had—wasn’t going to be easy. But she knew what it was like to hide behind a cool facade; she’d find a way to Jacob’s heart. She’d never abandon him.
But as she gave Cade the directions she’d been given, they went from the relative slums surrounding the airport to the elegant mansions of San Marino, and any confidence she’d managed to muster faded.
Jacob was living like a king.
How could she compare?
That was simple enough—she couldn’t. With a sinking feeling, she stared at the house they’d pulled up in front of. Three stories of brick and windows shaped into the most charming Tudor-style home she’d ever seen. The circular drive was surrounded with meticulous gardens, and a BMW sat in the drive, beneath a colorful flag waving the words Welcome, Friends.
She felt every bit the misplaced unwanted city girl. She couldn’t do this, couldn’t compete, and all her buried feelings of worthlessness worked to the surface.
At the touch on her arm, she looked into Cade’s unsmiling face. Yet she had no trouble detecting the warmth and compassion that made her want to crawl into a hole.
Where was her own inner strength?
“Delia.”
Instead of hugging her, as she knew he would have Zoe or Maddie, he reached over and gave her a gentle shake. “Don’t you give up. You’re better than that.”
“In case you missed it, that little flag over there is worth more than I am.”
“I’m not talking about your checkbook,” he said, his disappointment in her clear. “I’m talking heart. Soul. Now get out and go show them what you’re made of.”
Delia stared at him as panic raced through her veins like wildfire.
“Go,” he repeated firmly. “I’ll wait right here.”
What had she expected—him to hold her hand? She didn’t need that, or him. She could do this. Drawing upon years of experience, she took a deep supposedly calming breath and got out of the car.
She might not know exactly what to do or how to reach Jacob, but she’d find a way. By herself.
Just as always.
“Delia.”
She looked at Cade, bracing herself for either anger or pity.
“I believe in you,” he said softly, making her heart pound ridiculously. She ignored it and walked toward the house.
* * *
Edna greeted Delia with a cool sophistication that matched her home, but the woman’s eyes were warm and joyful, which gave Delia even more to worry about.
For the first time she wondered what she was trying to take Jacob away from. And did she even have that right?
Edna, with her height and undeniably regal presence, was a well-preserved sixty-eight, which Delia knew only because Edna mentioned her age as they walked through the house to the back deck. They sat at a cozy patio table laden with snacks that made Delia’s empty stomach grumble loudly.
“Scott Felton will be here shortly,” Edna said, which surprised Delia because the social worker had made it clear he would be present for every moment of this first meeting.
At Delia’s unspoken question, something flickered across Edna’s face, something that looked suspiciously like guilt. “I might have led him to believe our meeting was for half an hour from now,” she said evenly.
“Might have?”
“Well…yes.” There was no disguising that flash of emotion now, though it was more good humor than remorse. “I wanted to see you for myself first,” Edna admitted
Delia, who could act cool, calm and collected with the best of them, didn’t move, didn’t so much as give a hint of her nerves and fear and worry. “And?”
“And…I like what I see.” With that, she sent Delia a genuine smile. “It’s funny, I never thought I’d find myself a parent, especially at my age.” She waited a beat. “But I have to say, there’s nothing quite as exhilarating—or as tiring—as a child.”
Much as Delia wanted to meet her brother, she needed to feel out this situation. “You enjoy having him? He’s happy here?”
“Yes to the first question, but as for the second, I haven’t a clue.” Edna sighed. “He’s eight years old, he’s been alone too long, neglected too long, and he’s a boy. Therefore he’s a master at hiding his feelings.”
An unfortunate family trait, Delia thought.
“When I found out about you,” Edna continued, casually pouring tea from a pot that looked like an heirloom, “I of course had you investigated.”
“You what?”
“You want custody and I had to be sure that if the courts decided he should be with you, instead of any alternatives, that you would be good for him.”
“Alternatives? You didn’t intend to keep him?”
“I’m willing, but I’m far too old for the boy. He won’t be happy here for long.” She set down her teacup and looked into Delia’s eyes. “He’s practically a baby, and I don’t take this responsibility lightly. I had to make sure you would take care of him the way he deserves to be taken care of. The way he hasn’t been taken care of until now.”
Delia’s heart all but stopped. “He was abused?”
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