to be this big?” she whispered to Lizzie. “They’re like monster-sized.”
Lizzie burst out laughing. “I was thinking the same thing. But Rosie said they’re ten months old, so that’s almost a year. And Rosie has been taking wonderful care of them. And she said she’s happy to continue being their nanny while we all work.”
Work.
Melonie drew up a mental image of the picture Gilda Hardaway had flashed her way. The two-and-a-half-story home was a skeleton of its former self, but with help...
“This is them?”
Jace’s voice drew her gaze. He was framed in the screen door, looking every bit as good as he had that morning, which meant she needed to work harder to ignore it. He opened the door and walked in. Once inside, he glanced from one baby to the next and she wasn’t sure if he was going to run screaming or cry.
He did neither.
He set that big, black cowboy hat on a small table, crouched down in front of her and Baby Number One and smiled.
Oh, that smile.
Melonie’s heart did a skip-jump that would have done an Irish dancer proud. She quashed it instantly. She was here to do her part, whatever that might be, and then leave. Her dream wasn’t here in the craggy hills of western Idaho. It resided south, in the warm, rolling streets of Kentucky and Tennessee, where she yearned to show folks how to create a pocketbook-friendly version of Southern charm.
He started to reach out for the baby, but then his phone rang. He glanced at the display and made a face. “Justine.” He turned to face Lizzie. “How do I explain all this to my kid sister?”
“The same way it got explained to us,” she said softly. “But first.” She stood and crossed the room, then handed him the baby. “Let Justine go to voice mail for a few minutes. Meet your niece. This is Ava.”
Melonie frowned. “That’s Annie. This is Ava.”
Lizzie frowned, too. “No, I’m sure that—”
Melonie shifted the sleeve of the baby’s right arm. The tiny black dot showed up.
“You marked her?” Lizzie lifted both eyebrows in surprise.
“Well, we had to do something,” said Mel. “Even Rosie said she had trouble telling them apart except when they’re sleeping. Annie brings her right hand up to her face. Ava brings up the left.”
“Well, let’s try this again.” Lizzie handed the baby to Jace. “This is Annie. Annie, this is your Uncle Jace and he’s a really good guy.”
Jace looked down.
The baby looked up. She squirmed into a more upright position in his arms, then squinted at him. Her right hand reached up and touched his cheek and his face. And then she patted his face with that sweet baby hand and gurgled up at him.
“She’s talking to you.” Lizzie grinned. “Look at that, Mel. She’s talking to Jace!”
Annie looked around, then back at him. She frowned slightly, then touched his cheek again and laughed.
“She likes you.”
He met Melonie’s gaze across the room. “I think she finds me an interesting specimen at the moment. They’re pretty little things, aren’t they?”
“Beautiful. And this one—” she eased up, out of the chair “—is sound asleep. Should we put her in bed? Hold her? What do we do next?”
Rosie came up the front steps just then, carrying two bags. “Don’t let her sleep now, or she’ll keep you up tonight. Except that once Ava’s asleep, she does not want to waken, so good luck with that.” She smiled as she said the words, then set down the bags. “What do we do if Valencia comes back? How do we handle this?” she asked. She faced Jace. “The women filled me in on your story. What if your half sister returns? Do we simply allow her to take these babies, knowing she abandoned them once? Should we call the authorities?” Concern deepened her voice. “I can’t understand such behavior because the preciousness of life is very important to me. But what do I do if Valencia comes to my door when I’m watching the girls?”
Jace looked down at Annie. She dimpled up at him, then yawned.
He shifted his attention to Mel and Ava. Then he sighed. “I don’t know. We’ll have to figure that out. I’m prone to putting things in the Good Lord’s hands, but we need to put their safety first. And that might cause a ruckus if she comes back. Rosie, I have no idea what to tell you.”
“Do you think she’ll come back, Rosie?” Melonie asked. The thought of someone abandoning this sleeping baby gutted her, because parents weren’t supposed to abandon their children. Ever.
Uncertainty clouded Rosie’s eyes. “I do not know. She is not a maternal person, and yet I feel she loves these babies. In her own way.”
“Maybe loves them enough to give them up.” Mel kept her voice soft as Ava squirmed in her arms.
Jace turned her way. “Giving up children shows them love?” Disbelief marked his voice and his expression. “I don’t buy that. Caring for kids. Feeding them, clothing them, teaching them. That’s what love’s all about. Anyone can toss something away. It takes a real parent to go the distance.”
He knew nothing, Melonie decided. Because she’d been on the other side of that equation and he was wrong. So wrong.
She stood and handed Ava to Rosie. “I’ve got to get my stuff settled in the stable.”
She walked out, refusing to go toe-to-toe with him. The only reason she held back was because he’d been handed a rough reality a few hours before.
By Jace’s definition, her father had gone the distance.
Wrong.
He’d provided funds to raise her and her two sisters, he’d paid Corrie to mother them and he’d encouraged them to make the grade in good schools. The recent corporate bankruptcy had left her and Lizzie jobless at a time when print media was shrinking. Her father’s personal finances had left her and Charlotte with massive college loans to repay. Jobless with massive debt wasn’t how she’d expected to face the year, but her late uncle’s legacy would help.
As she crossed the sunlit lawn dividing the two arms of the horse stables, she was glad she’d kept silent inside. If tomorrow’s meeting went all right, she’d be working with Jace daily. She’d avoid arguments if she could, but she knew one thing for certain: it took a whole lot more than providing food and shelter to be a parent.
No way was he going to take on Gilda Hardaway’s job, Jace decided as he steered his truck toward the Payette forest the next afternoon.
He couldn’t bring himself to use the term grandmother. She’d gotten the title by circumstance only. It might be a biological truth, but it meant nothing to him. And saving her broken-down house meant even less. He was sticking with his plan, one hundred percent. Sell the house. Move to Sun Valley. Take the girls along with him. End of story.
“How’d your night go?” Melonie had been busying herself
