he had no idea. Maggie always had been a genius at whatever she put her mind to, and once she’d devoted herself to raising money and awareness for SIDS research, she’d never looked back.
“There she is.” Ally pointed to where her mother stood, mixing and mingling like a pro. “Mommy!”
Ally’s voice rang out across the room and Maggie’s face instantly lit from within as her gaze settled on her daughter. As Maggie closed the gap between them, Gary realized, not for the first time, that he’d do anything to preserve the look of pure joy that painted his sister’s features whenever she looked at her daughter.
To say adopting Ally had saved Maggie’s life would be an understatement—at least as far as Gary was concerned. He’d feared for his sister during the terrible time after she’d found her son, Adam, dead in his crib. When sudden infant death syndrome had taken his nephew, it had also taken a very big piece of his sister and her husband, Robert.
Their unsuccessful attempts at pregnancy—including financially and physically exhausting fertility treatments—had wrung the couple emotionally dry.
Ally wiggled in Gary’s arms as her mother neared, and he lowered her to the floor. She took off like a shot, straight for Maggie.
Gary’s gaze fell to the small birthmark that couldn’t be a more perfect symbol of what Ally meant to all of them. A butterfly. A tiny, perfect, life-affirming butterfly.
The day she’d floated into their lives, Ally had saved each of them. She’d reawakened the light in his sister’s beautiful eyes—the eyes that measured him now.
“Saw you talking to Sophie Markham.” Maggie waggled her brows teasingly, her smooth blond hair swinging against her jawline as she tipped her chin. “She’s very pretty. And smart. Not sure you’re man enough for her.”
That, he already knew.
Gary forced a weak smile. “Been there. Done that.”
Maggie’s brows snapped together and she frowned. “When?”
“College.”
“How long?”
He shrugged. “A few months.”
Her pale gaze widened. “Serious?”
He shook his head. “Apparently not as far as she was concerned.”
They’d grown adept at the art of concise conversations ever since Ally had become a parrot, repeating the last words of most every sentence she heard.
“Serious?” she mimicked her mother now, who gave her a quick squeeze.
Silence beat between Gary and his sister for a moment, then Maggie smiled.
“Well, I thought the woman had it all going on, but she’s obviously an idiot.”
“Idiot,” Ally repeated.
Maggie cringed.
“Thanks, sis.” Gary stepped close to his sister and dropped a kiss to her cheek. “Trust me, it’s ancient history. Are you going to feed me or what?”
She shifted Ally to one hip and linked her arm through Gary’s. “Right this way, handsome.”
As they crossed to the spread of appetizers and desserts, Gary fought to center his attention on the two women who loved him—the one at his side and the mini-woman she cradled in her arms.
If he took the Los Angeles job, these two would be what he’d miss most. Any time he seriously considered the position, it was the thought of leaving his family that made him hesitate.
Sophie Markham, on the other hand, would be someone he’d gladly leave behind. Her image flickered across his mind’s eye, and his tightening gut belied his tough thoughts.
Sophie Markham—the one woman who had made it quite clear years before that she did not love him, nor would she ever.
He worked to shove her image away, but his efforts were futile.
Seeing Sophie tonight had done nothing but sharpen the image that had never been far from Gary’s mind since he’d seen her last.
Ancient history?
Not so far as his heart—and pride—were concerned.
But there was no need for anyone but him to ever know the truth.
SOPHIE RUFFLED THE LAYERS of her short hair and braced herself, flipping open the cover of the folder she’d filed away five years ago.
Immediately after Becca and Robin’s deaths, she’d pored over every news article that mentioned the fire. She’d hounded the local police and fire departments. She’d been a woman obsessed, dumbstruck by grief and emotional loss.
She drew in a deep breath and held it, unsure whether she was ready to open the door to that pain again.
Careless Smoking Claims Life of Mother and Infant Daughter.
The words cut through her cleaner than any knife ever could. Sophie squeezed her eyes shut, then forced them open, willing herself to revisit that horrible night. Willing herself to reread every single word. Every note she’d made from her interviews of those at the scene.
Every word.
Somewhere here there might be a clue, might be something she’d missed. She couldn’t afford not to open herself to the old pain.
For five years, she’d accepted her sister and niece were gone. She’d accepted she was now alone, the last living Markham of her family tree. She’d given Becca and Robin a joint funeral befitting royalty, even though Robin’s casket had been empty.
The investigators had explained a fire as intense and long-burning as the one that had destroyed Becca’s home could have easily destroyed a baby’s body and bones. But what if someone had saved Robin from the flames?
What if?
The image of Ally Alexander’s unique birthmark flashed through Sophie’s mind, and she scrambled for the album she kept safely tucked in her nightstand drawer. Robin’s baby album.
She lifted the small object from the drawer, tracing a finger across the yellow duck that graced the cover. Sophie cracked open the treasured collection of snapshots and smiled down at the luminous face that met her gaze. The navy-blue eyes. The dark brown hair. The pert little nose.
Her throat tightened as she flipped through the images of her niece until she found what she’d been searching for. The close-up of Robin’s birthmark.
A perfect butterfly.
Sophie inhaled sharply, squinting at the photo.
Could two children possibly have such an identical mark? Of course, it might be possible. But Ally Alexander not only had the identical mark, she also had the same coloring and was similar in age to what Robin would be were she alive.
And she’d been adopted.
Was
