taken.”
“But we’ll miss you, dearie.” Eunice Lundgrin looked up from her crocheting as Belle entered the large, bright common room. “You liven things up around here.”
“Only since I’ve been out of my coma,” Belle quipped over the thunk of her walker. “Don’t tell me you ladies finished the jigsaw puzzle without me.”
“You didn’t think we’d wait for you, did you?” Marjorie Collins looked up from her book. “You left us to go see that handsome Kirk.”
“He’s a physical therapist and my son’s age!” Laughing, Belle eased into the overstuffed chair closest to the picture window, aching to be outside in wide-open spaces. “It wasn’t a date.”
“Pretty girl like you ought to have a fella.” Eunice completed her double crochet with a flourish.
“I tried that once and discovered it wasn’t for me.” Laughing was easier than the truth of how hard marriage had been as teenage parents. She shot the older ladies a smile. “Men are just too much trouble.”
“I can’t say they aren’t,” Anna Chandro piped in as she reached the end of her knitted row, making lovely progress in spite of her stroke. “My Roberto, God rest his soul, was more trouble than I knew what to do with. Most days he was like having another kid around.”
“Ain’t that the truth?” Eunice agreed, giving her yarn ball a tug. “I raised my Charlie right along with our four boys. He was always tracking mud in on his shoes, forgetting to pick up his towel, turning up the TV volume until a girl couldn’t think.”
“I would have taken a broom to him,” Marjorie teased, marking her page and closing her inspirational romance novel. “My John doesn’t dare step one toe out of line.”
“Oh, yes, I saw it in his eyes when he visited yesterday.” Belle couldn’t help giving a little sigh. The dear lady’s room was across the hall from hers, and she’d spotted the wizened John arriving with a bouquet of flowers, a stack of new novels, and he’d stayed to share supper with her in the dining room. A sweeter couple never lived. Lifelong love, that had once been her dream, too...and no, she wasn’t going to let her heart flutter at the mention of his name.
“Speaking of guests, I saw Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome leave Belle’s room quite late last night.”
“Is that right?” Eunice gave her yarn another good yank. “So, there seems to be a lot Belle isn’t telling us. Look at her blush.”
“I’m not blushing. It’s the heat. I’m sitting in the direct sun.” Denial was always her first coping choice, along with a quick change of subject. “My children visited again last night, that’s all.”
“We noticed,” Eunice said, crocheting with lightning speed. “How could we not? Those two sets of twins?”
“They’re adorable.” Marjorie smiled, her hand resting on her book. “The girls are both so lovely, such nice, well-behaved young ladies.”
“And those boys, strapping and handsome.” Anna’s needles stilled. “What I can’t figure is how you managed with two sets of twins. One newborn is a handful. Up most of the night between feedings, diapers and colic. How did you handle twins? And twice?”
“It wasn’t easy, especially since I was sixteen at the time.” The confession came quietly, since she wasn’t sure how the older women would take her news. “Brian and I married and had the twin boys. The girls came two years later.”
“Double the blessings, double the hard work,” Eunice sympathized.
“And the stress. Child care is the most demanding work there is,” Marjorie piped in gently. “Four little ones all two years old or younger. I couldn’t have survived it. Stress would have done me in. Just proves you’re one special lady, Belle.”
“You are way too kind.” Belle’s chest knotted up as it always did, thinking of those years. Failure haunted her. She hadn’t been the wife and the mother she’d meant to be.
“Anyone can see you did a wonderful job,” Anna added lovingly.
“You three are the wonderful ones. No wonder we’ve become fast friends.” Belle felt a change in the air and turned toward the doorway where Brian stood. How long he’d been listening in was anyone’s guess.
“Good afternoon, ladies.” Brian tossed them a dazzling smile.
He looked better this morning. A good night’s sleep had done him wonders. He had more color in his face, and the dark circles were gone. The wind had tousled his dark hair, giving him a slightly rakish look, a reminder of the young man she’d fallen irrevocably in love with.
Not that she ever could again, she thought, wishing the other women in the room weren’t giving him a collective sigh of approval. Trying not to imagine what her new friends would be saying next, she spoke up before they could. “I thought you were going to take some time for yourself. Rest up. Regain your strength.”
“I’m tough. I don’t need to rest.” His easygoing humor rolled over her, just like in the old days.
But those days are long gone, she reminded herself stubbornly. Besides, as the kindly older ladies had reminded her, she wouldn’t want to go back. Their marriage hadn’t worked. End of story. She struggled to her feet. “I’m not sure what to do with you, Brian Wallace.”
“It’s too late to pretend you don’t know me.”
“Don’t think it didn’t cross my mind.” Before she could stand fully, he was at her side, his hand cradling her elbow, keeping her steady as he dragged her walker closer for her.
Her independent streak flared. It would be prudent to let him know straight off she didn’t need his help, now or ever. But that wasn’t fair to him. He was only trying to be courteous. Brian was simply being Brian.
“Thank you.” The words felt strangled. His nearness washed over her like sunshine—bright, refreshing and enlivening. Things she didn’t want to feel again, not when it came to Brian. She grasped the walker’s grips and shuffled forward, aware of him tall and straight at her side.
Her limitations frustrated her. As grateful as she was to have survived a head injury and resulting coma, she wanted to ride her horse, jog at her usual breakneck speed and keep up with things at the ranch. Worse, she hated being vulnerable around Brian when she needed to be strong.
“Don’t they make the cutest couple?” Eunice cooed.
“The cutest,” Marjorie agreed, opening her book.
“They look like they belong together,” Anna sighed as her knitting needles began clacking again.
She lumbered across the room as fast as possible. Was Brian upset also by that last comment? The two of them used to belong together.
Used to. Not anymore. That was something that would never change.
“I spent most of the morning on the phone.” He pitched his voice low, so it wouldn’t carry in the busy hallway. “The marshal who handled you—”
“Tommy
