He gazed into Sara’s eyes and felt that elemental attraction again. So elemental, that he reminded himself he was here to talk to her.

After Jase removed the banding around the bottle caps and used the corkscrew, he poured a sample of the first bottle of wine into two of the four juice glasses. “How long were you at the day-care center?”

“We finished around three.”

He picked up one of the glasses and handed it to her. “I’m terrifically impressed with The Mommy Club. After I left there today, I had an idea about promoting it more, to get more people involved.”

“What’s your idea?” Sara’s fingers brushed his when she took the glass. She was looking at him as if what he had to say was more important than taking a drink.

Damn, but he wanted to kiss her.

About the Author

Award-winning and bestselling author KAREN ROSE SMITH began writing in her early teens. An only child, she spent a lot of time in her imagination and with books—Nancy Drew, Zane Grey, the Black Stallion and Anne of Green Gables. Her plotlines include small communities and family relationships as part of everyday living. Residing in Pennsylvania with her husband and three cats, she welcomes interaction with readers on Facebook, Twitter @karenrosesmith and through email at her website, www.karenrosesmith.com, where they can sign up for her newsletter.

Wanted: A Real Family
Karen Rose Smith

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To Heather,

a good friend and one of the best mommies I know.

Chapter One

Sara Stevens took her eyes from the long driveway nestled between rows and rows of grape trellises, colorful rose gardens and mountains in the distance. Glancing over her shoulder into the back where her four-year-old daughter sat in her car seat, she noticed Amy was staring out the window. Amy was as shaken as she was. She could tell when her little girl was quiet any length of time. She’d been quiet since Sara had awakened her a few nights ago in a house filled with smoke and carried her to safety.

Had that only been a few nights ago?

They’d lost everything they’d possessed, except their car. The loss weighed heavily on Sara. But right now, what weighed on her most was the decision she’d have to make regarding their living arrangements. Going through the channels of The Mommy Club, an organization in Fawn Grove, California, that helped parents in need, Jase Cramer had invited her and Amy to stay in the guesthouse at the nearby Raintree Winery.

But she and Jase had a history. She was just coming to look at the guesthouse today. Maybe she could find another place to stay.

Or maybe not.

As she drove up to the gravel parking area at the guest cottage, she spotted Jase standing by the door in the mid-May sun. His wavy black hair was shaggy, his gray eyes still intense. Craggy lines had etched his face, no doubt from the sights he’d witnessed in his former career. His physical therapy had ended two years ago. What had happened to him since?

She was about to find out.

He was so tall and muscular, now tanned from his work on the vineyard rather than his former profession as a photographer and journalist who told the rest of the world about children in refugee camps.

She shouldn’t be so unsettled about this meeting. She was a widow now, after all. But seeing him again took her back two years to a time when her life had been different, to a time when she’d thought she’d been happy, to a time before her marriage had been rocked and her world as she’d known it had blown up.

She opened her car door, and he offered her his hand. “Sara. It’s good to see you again. I’m just sorry it’s under these circumstances.”

His voice was still that deep warm baritone that seemed to vibrate through her. “How did you know about the fire?”

“I saw your interview on the news.”

Sara nodded. “Right after the fire. That reporter wouldn’t stop asking questions.”

“You were the news. You saved your daughter from a burning house. That’s heroic.”

“Not heroic. I couldn’t have left her. She’s my heart.”

After studying her for several long moments, Jase peered into the backseat. “How is she doing?”

“She doesn’t understand what happened. Kaitlyn Foster has made us feel at home in her guest room, but Amy is confused by it all.”

“Why don’t we take a look at the guesthouse? Maybe she’ll like the cottage and the vineyard.”

A few minutes later, Sara held Amy’s hand as they stepped over the threshold of Raintree Winery’s guesthouse.

“What do you think?” Jase asked, motioning to the exposed beams, the empty living room with a native stone fireplace and kitchen and dining area beyond. The golden polished flooring, the rough plastered walls and the birch cabinets she could glimpse in the kitchen added lightness to the space already glowing with sunlight from the windows.

Amy burrowed into her mother’s side and Sara crouched down, hanging her arm around her daughter’s shoulders. “Isn’t this pretty?”

Amy just poked her finger into her mouth and looked down at her sneakers.

Jase crouched down with Sara. “You can have your own bedroom here. There are two, one for your mom and one for you. And, if you’re lucky, you might even catch sight of a deer outside your window. Or a hummingbird. Have you ever seen a hummingbird? They’re tiny and flap their wings really fast.”

Sara could see Jase had caught Amy’s attention now, and her daughter actually gazed over at him.

“They like to flit around the columbine.”

“Can I catch a hummingbird?” Amy asked.

“Probably not. But if we hang a feeder on the porch, you might see them more often.”

Sara rose to her feet, the idea of catching a glimpse of a hummingbird entrancing her, too.

After another smile for Amy, Jase also rose. “Kaitlyn told me furniture won’t be a problem. Apparently The Mommy Club has storage sheds full of stuff for emergencies like this, as well as people donating.”

With a sigh, Sara closed her eyes.

Jase stepped a little closer. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t want to accept all this help. I don’t want to be a charity case.”

“Sara,” he said with so much gentleness, tears almost came to her eyes. “This is temporary. Living here and accepting help is temporary. Didn’t you once tell me I had to get over my pride and rethink my life to make it work again?”

The fact that he remembered her words from when she’d been his physical therapist touched her. He’d been at an emotional as well as a physical low, not ready to give up the life he’d wanted to pursue. While photographing children outside a refugee camp in Kenya, he and a few other aid workers had been injured by a marauding band of criminals. For some reason, the last thing he’d wanted to do was return to his father and Raintree Winery and make a place for himself here. She’d never known the real reason why, but she had known other details about Jase’s life, details that now made her wonder if everyone experienced betrayal at one point or another. His fiancée had been unfaithful.

“Your memory is too good,” she murmured, wondering what else he remembered about what she’d told him while he was in treatment with her.

He chuckled. “I only remember the important stuff.” He cast a glance down at Amy. “Don’t you think she’d be happy here? Plenty of room to wander. For you, too. I hear long walks are therapeutic.”

This time Sara had to laugh, and it was almost a strange sensation for her. Her life had been nothing but serious the past couple of years. “Did you follow all the advice I gave you?”

“Not all, but most. I wanted to get well … and strong.”

He was obviously strong again. Although he wore jeans and a white oxford shirt with the sleeves rolled up, she could see the muscles underneath when he moved. After all, as a physical therapist, she quickly assessed the condition of muscles. He’d been way too lean when she’d treated him. Now he’d built up muscle all over. From the looks of his flat stomach, he had strength there, too.

Jase Cramer wasn’t handsome in the usual sense. Those lines around his eyes and along his mouth were a little deeper than they should be at his thirty-six years. But there was an intensity about Jase, a deep passion that hadn’t been so evident when he’d first come to her as a patient, but had been revitalized by the end of his therapy.

“Let’s take a look at the bedrooms,” he suggested.

Empty bedrooms, she reminded herself, feeling an unexpected spark deep down inside whenever her gaze met his. Not going to happen, she warned herself. If she and Amy did accept Jase’s kind offer, they would only stay as long as it took for her to get back on her financial feet.

One bedroom was smaller than the other, but both were adequate, and there was one bathroom they’d share. It was a cozy guesthouse and she wondered why it was empty.

“Do you rent this out?”

“My father hasn’t done that since before I returned home. While I was growing up, our housekeeper lived here, but he let her go when I went to college. Friends have stayed here on and off for vacations, that kind of thing, before my father emptied it. He updated it by refinishing the floors and putting in new appliances. He likes everything to be in tip-top shape, even if he doesn’t use it.”

Sara had noticed Jase rarely referred to his father as his dad. That seemed kind of odd but she’d never questioned him about it.

“Your father’s okay with us staying here?”

Jase frowned. “I’ll be honest with you. He doesn’t like a lot of people around. Our chief winemaker, Liam Corbett, has an apartment above the winery and he’s used to him living there. So he had reservations about inviting you here. But he couldn’t give me a good reason not to. I promised him you wouldn’t have wild parties that lasted all weekend.”

Again, she had to smile. “No wild parties,” she assured him.

When they returned to the living room, Jase dropped down into a crouch again to be on eye level with Amy. “I didn’t ask your mom first,” he said with a wink. “You can make the decision for both of you. How would you like a sweet treat? I have sweet rolls made with grape jelly from vineyard grapes. They’d be great with a glass of milk for a late breakfast.”

Amy looked up at her mom with pleading eyes. She loved sweets and Sara usually limited them to cookies as a bedtime snack. But Amy had been through so much, she didn’t have the heart to deny her a treat. She had lost her toys in the fire. She’d slept with Sara the past few nights in Kaitlyn’s spare room. She’d asked Sara when they were going home, and it had been so hard to explain to a four-year-old that they didn’t have a home anymore.

Jase rose to his feet, and when Sara gazed into his eyes, she said, “I think a sweet treat is just what we all need.”

As they walked toward the main house, Sara looked out over the vineyard. It was an absolutely beautiful setting. Jase had once told her it encompassed over two hundred acres. Clover covered some fields. Lush green was everywhere, from the trees and shrubs, to the trellises of grapevines. There were deep, rich scents here, from the earthy damp ground to the roses. It was crazy, but she almost felt like a different person here. Maybe she and Amy had made a mistake by staying in the house that Conrad had bought them to the detriment of them all. When she’d married Conrad, she’d loved him in a naive, too-trusting way. Over the course of her marriage, she’d explicitly learned how one-sided trust could destroy everything.

Although she was close by Sara’s side, Amy nevertheless seemed eager to follow Jase. She was used to other kids being around her in day care, but as for adults, mostly women were in and out of her life. In the past year, Sara hadn’t thought about it much, but male role models were important to little girls, too.

Stone steps led to the polished walnut back door of the main house. Jase opened it and they stepped inside a cavernous kitchen. This room held none of the warmth of the cottage, though it did have a brick fireplace with a rounded arch and fire screen. The appliances were shiny stainless steel and they looked as if they, too, had been replaced recently. The granite counters gleamed and the copper pots hanging from the ceiling above the sink looked as if they’d never been used. There weren’t any colorful place mats on the oak pedestal table, or flowered curtains at the windows. The blinds were tilted closed, not letting in much light.

Jase pointed to the counter and the glass-domed dish. The sweet rolls were a confectioner’s delight and Amy’s eyes grew wide along with her smile.

“Can I, Mommy?”

“Sure, you can. But I think we’ll need plenty of napkins to go along with the sweet roll.”

Jase pulled dishes from a cupboard and a few napkins from another. They all sat at the table. Amy was happily biting into jelly, sweet icing and pastry when Jase said, “In your interview, I heard you lost your husband a year ago. I’m sorry.”

Sara tore off a piece of a roll but suddenly had no appetite for it. Thanks to real-time research, the journalist who’d interviewed her had already known much of her background. “Yes, it was a year ago.”

“Was it sudden?” Jase prompted.

“A heart attack.”

Jase’s expression turned questioning, so she added, “He was fifteen years older than I was. Forty-four. The doctor said whatever triggered it might have been a congenital abnormality.”

And physically, she knew that was certainly true. But the stress in his life definitely hadn’t helped. She tried to keep herself from feeling guilty, but she was to blame, too—for being so blind. She hadn’t known he’d taken on a supersized mortgage. She hadn’t known about his credit card debt. As a new wife, first pregnant and then busy with an infant as well as work, she’d let Conrad handle their finances. She hadn’t asked enough questions. She’d trusted too much.

Jase’s eyes were kind as he looked at her, and her heart started thumping faster as she thought she saw more than kindness there.

Unexpectedly, Amy laid very sticky fingers on Jase’s shirtsleeve and asked, “Can I have some milk?”

“Oh, Amy.” Grape jelly streaked the white fabric of Jase’s shirt. Over the years, Sara had found men didn’t like the messiness of kids. Conrad had never wanted to feed Amy himself when she was a baby, so it was automatic for Sara to jump up, grab a napkin and try to fix the mess. Had she resented that he didn’t seem to love their daughter as much as she did?

She dabbed at Jase’s sleeve, smearing the jelly more. Her fingers slipped from the material to his arm. His skin was hot, his hair rough, and when she met his gaze—

The inordinate silence when their awareness of each other took hold was enough to rattle her bones.

“Mommy, I’m sorry,” Amy wailed.

Sara knew she was making a mess of this whole thing. She wrapped her arm around her daughter. “It’s okay. We’ll wash Mr. Cramer’s shirt. We’ll fix this.”

Jase clasped her shoulder. “It’s okay. Relax. It’s just a shirt.”

He addressed Amy. “Sticky fingers and sweet rolls go together. Let me get that milk.” He rolled both of his sleeves up further to cover the jelly and grinned at Amy. “See? All fixed.”

He motioned for Sara to sit again. “You’re too jumpy. You need to take a walk through the vineyard and relax.” Then he must have realized he’d chided her and shook his head. “Sorry. I have no right to give you advice. I can’t imagine what losing your home was like.”

Then, to Sara’s astonishment, Jase went to the sink, ripped a paper towel from the roll under the counter, wet it and sat down with Amy. “Here, let’s get some of that jelly off. Your milk will slide through your fingers.”

“I’ll do that.” Sara reached for the towel in his hand. With instant clarity, she remembered some of the photos in the paper and online of Jase feeding little children who were malnourished, of him holding one Amy’s age in his arms.

His fingers covered hers as she took the towel. “You’ve got to relax,” he said again. “Everything is going to get better.”

His touch sent tingles through her. That was odd. After all, she’d treated him … she’d touched him when he was her patient. But as with all patients, she’d closed herself off against any personal feelings. She’d been married and she’d ignored vibrations coming from men who were anything more than just friendly. But now, today, it was like the floodgates had opened. Everything about Jase Cramer made her feel overly sensitized to him.

Sara had torn off a piece of her sweet roll and tasted it when Jase brought three tall glasses of milk to the table. Amy’s was only half-full, and again Sara appreciated his knowledge of kids.

Sara was watching Amy drink from the tall glass without spilling it when she heard footsteps outside the kitchen doorway.

Ethan Cramer entered the room. She recognized him from photos in the paper about him and Raintree Winery. Raintree Wines had won awards and Fawn Grove lauded their citizens who made good.

Having never met Ethan Cramer, Sara didn’t know what to expect, but she was sensitive to his expression of disapproval as his gaze fell on her and Amy. Jase and his father looked nothing alike.

Where Jase was all dark intensity, black hair and gray eyes, his father’s hair was blond and thinning. His blue eyes were sharp as he asked his son, “This is Ms. Stevens?”

“Yes, this is Sara and her daughter.”

“I’m sorry you lost your home,” Ethan said while studying her.

She didn’t know quite what to say to that. She didn’t know what was behind his words, but something was. Jase had told her his father was on board if she and Amy wanted to stay in the cottage, but now she wondered if that was really true.

“Jase invited us over for some sweet rolls while I decide if we want to stay in the cottage or not. It’s very kind of you to offer it.”

“Jase offered it, and I agreed it was the right thing to do. But as soon as you’re back on your feet, I expect you’ll find your own place again.”

“Father!”

“Mr. Cramer, if you’d rather we not use the cottage, I will find somewhere else.”

Jase, who had been looking more tense and even more frustrated, stepped in. “If it weren’t for Sara, I wouldn’t have recovered as fast as I did to help you here. I owe her a debt of gratitude.”

“Yes, I know you do,” Ethan said with a sigh, just looking weary now. “And when her stay here is over, we’ll consider your debt repaid.” Ethan focused on Sara. “Have you made a decision?”

Their circumstances seemed less than ideal, yet her options were limited as were her finances. She was fairly certain she and Amy could stay out of Ethan Cramer’s way. Amy would be at day care during the week and Sara would be working. In the evening, they could easily keep to themselves. Weekends they would be busy with errands and rebuilding their life. They had no reason to run into Ethan Cramer, or even Jase, for that matter. Sunshine, space to wander and a room of her own would be good for Amy. Sara would be foolish not to accept.

“Raintree Winery is a beautiful place. Amy needs a little bit of that right now until we can start sewing our lives back together. So we’d like to stay in the cottage for a while.”

Ethan gave a nod, then addressed Jase. “Don’t forget, you’re supposed to meet with Liam and me over at the winery at one. I want to discuss the new barrels.”

“I won’t forget.”

Jase’s voice was tight and Sara wondered if the tension she sensed between father and son was just about her and Amy staying here or if it went further back than that. Had Ethan wanted Jase to work here all along while Jase had wanted to photograph the world and wander? But now that Jase was back, didn’t Ethan Cramer have what he wanted?

With a nod, Ethan left the kitchen and closed the door behind him.

Amy had seemed unaware of the undercurrent. She was finishing her sweet roll with swigs of milk every once in a while, getting sticky icing all over her mouth and fingers again.

Sara crossed the room to the sink for another wet paper towel. Jase followed her and stood beside her.

“I don’t know what got into him,” Jase said.

“Is he usually so … frosty?”

“He’s always been remote and sometimes cold. I’ve accepted that.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Ethan Cramer isn’t my father. He’s my adoptive father.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“I don’t talk about it. The people who have lived in Fawn Grove all their lives know.”

“I moved here after I earned my master’s in PT.”

“Where did you grow up?”

“San Francisco. I went to college at Berkeley.”

“Is your family still there?”

“I lost my parents the day I graduated from college. They were in an accident on the way there.”

“Sara.” He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her toward him. “You’ve known too much loss.”

“Everyone has losses. Everyone misses their loved ones. I think, though, the missing’s always there and we have to figure out a way to put it in perspective. I did that by focusing on getting my master’s and helping wherever I could in my practice. But I needed a fresh start, so I went to a placement professional. She found me the position in Fawn Grove. I’ve been happy here.”

“Until this past year.”

Until before that, really, but Jase didn’t know that. His hands on her shoulders felt as if they belonged there. His close proximity led her to study his high cheekbones, his cleft chin, the scars along one temple that were white against his tan.

Suddenly Jase released her and leaned away. She saw something in his eyes and wondered if it had to do with his relationships with women … with the fiancée who’d deserted him when he was at his lowest.

For whatever reason, she was glad he’d backed away. She wasn’t about to get involved with any man again, not even one who seemed to have a rapport with kids, not even one whose mere looks could cause a zing up her nerve endings. Not involved. Never again. Not ever.

Chapter Two

After his shower, Jase paced his suite in the main house Saturday morning. Sara would be here soon, as well as The Mommy Club volunteers. He just hoped his decision to invite Sara and her daughter to Raintree hadn’t been a mistake.

The only mistake he’d made up to this point in his life had been getting involved with Dana. She’d been tempting, exciting and energized with enthusiasm for her career. He hadn’t seen beyond the curves and sex appeal. He’d begun dreaming of a life they could share. But Dana had latched on to another man as if he’d been a lifeline away from Jase, what had happened to him, his injuries and an uncertain recovery. She’d bailed in the most damaging of ways and Jase still stung from her betrayal and her attitude about it.

For the past two years, Jase had poured every waking moment into making Raintree the most successful vineyard in California. There had been no time for women or their machinations.

He grabbed a pair of clean jeans from the closet and dressed. The problem was—he didn’t categorize Sara with other women. Because of her, he had full use of his shoulder. Because of her, his strength had slowly returned, his muscle tone had increased and his attitude about his life had done a one-eighty.

Honesty made him admit he’d been attracted to her when he’d been her patient, but he’d seen that ring on her finger. He’d heard her tenderly talk about her two-year-old daughter. He would have never messed with that.

The devil on his shoulder seemed to whisper, She’s a widow now.

Maybe so. But she was a homeless, vulnerable widow and he’d never take advantage of that. Besides, he’d given up on white picket fences and vows that lasted forever. Nothing good lasted forever—not in his experience. And the truth of it was he didn’t believe he could ever trust a woman again.

Had he made the right decision asking Sara to Raintree? His father was on edge. And Jase himself wasn’t sure how this situation would play out.

It was temporary. It would play out … and life as he’d come to know it would go on.

Grateful didn’t even begin to describe how Sara felt as Jase helped one of The Mommy Club volunteers carry a sofa in a pretty mauve-and-green-flowered slipcover into the cottage. This was moving day. She still didn’t know if she’d made the right decision coming to Raintree Winery, but watching Amy coloring under a live oak, the sun-dappled blanket around her, she was surer today than she had been for the past week.

Jase stood in the doorway and beckoned to her. He hadn’t even broken a sweat. His broad shoulders filled the space and she couldn’t see behind him. He’d been careful this morning not to get too close. She’d been careful about proximity, too.

When Sara glanced toward Amy, Jase assured her, “She’s fine. She knows exactly where you are.” He motioned to his assistant, Marissa, who was dropping another pack of markers beside Amy. “Will you keep an eye on her?” he called.

Marissa smiled and nodded.

“Marissa’s the one who knew all about The Mommy Club and gave me Kaitlyn’s number. Apparently the organization helped her when she was pregnant.”

Then, glancing inside the cottage, he changed the subject back to the situation at hand. “You need to tell us which wall would be the best backing for the sofa.”

Sara hadn’t seen Jase since the day she’d visited Raintree to decide about the cottage. She’d spoken to him on the phone a few times to make arrangements for today, and each time, the sound of his voice had lingered long after the call.

She glanced up at the hummingbird feeder he’d hung on the porch and had to smile. When he stood aside to let her enter, she was aware of his aftershave and trying not to be.

The sofa sat crosswise in the living room. Her attention was focused more on Jase than on the furniture. Still, she eyed the space instead of his gray eyes.

“Let’s not put it against a wall,” she said. “Let’s move it in front of the fireplace. Amy and I can curl up there on cool nights. We can put that wing chair by the window and Amy can watch TV from there.”

“Don’t you watch TV?”

“Not so much. If I do settle down on the sofa at night after Amy goes to bed, I usually conk out.” Or she sat in the silence and worried about how she was going to pay the bills. But Jase didn’t need to know that. If she confided in him about Conrad and about the debts, she’d be opening the door to confidences she didn’t know she was ready to share … didn’t know if she’d ever be ready for again.

Steering the subject away from her personal life, Sara commented, “I wonder where all this furniture came from. If it was used, it’s been repainted and repaired like new.”

“I did a little digging and found out there are a lot of guardian angels in The Mommy Club, from someone depositing funds in a never-ending account, to all the volunteers who lend a helping hand.”

Kaitlyn Foster slipped into the small cottage. She was a striking woman, with blond hair and green eyes, who could make any woman envious of her. But her personality as a compassionate pediatrician was as striking as her good looks. That compassion seemed to extend to all areas of her life. She’d been so kind to Sara after the fire and so good with Amy.

Now she was carrying a small bedside lamp in pink and white, perfect for a little girl’s room. “I just have to plug this in and Amy’s room is ready. The sheets are on the bed if you want to make it.”

“I don’t know how I’m ever going to repay The Mommy Club. Is there anything I can do to help kids or a family who needs it?”

Kaitlyn said, “We have a food drive coming up, as well as a summer program for kids and parents. We provide lunches and food baskets for families who are down on their luck and kids who are hungry. All of it makes a difference. Even if lunch is just a sandwich with an apple, the kids act like it’s a gourmet meal. We can always use help. After you get settled in, we can talk about it more.”

Jase suddenly said, “I’d like to help, too.”

Both women stared at him.

“What? A man can’t help The Mommy Club? I can donate funds and a little time. Sure, I’m as busy as the next guy, but helping kids—that used to be my life’s goal.”

Again some of the pictures Jase had taken and stories he’d written ran through Sara’s mind. She knew precisely what had happened to change his life’s goal. What exactly was his goal now? Did he miss his old life?

After Kaitlyn said again she’d be in touch about the food drive and headed toward Amy’s room, Jase moved away from Sara, took one end of the sofa and pushed it where she wanted it in front of the fireplace. “How’s that?”

“Perfect. If you ever tire of making wine, you can move furniture,” she joked.

He gazed straight out the window to the winery. When his gaze met hers again, she thought she saw a bit of longing in his eyes. Just what did Jase Cramer long for?

He studied her and then came closer, his voice low and a bit husky. He said, “The only reason I can push that sofa around is the physical therapy you gave me.”

“Jase—”

“Don’t tell me it isn’t so.”

“Any therapist who took you on as a patient could have strengthened your arm and shoulder and put you on an exercise regimen to make you healthy again.”

“I don’t know if I believe that. It was your caring and your positive outlook that made me see I could have a future here, that photojournalism wasn’t the be-all and end-all. You provided more than physical therapy, Sara. I imagine you do with all your patients.”

She felt herself blushing, a condition she’d had since childhood that affected her when she was nervous or upset. Now she was neither of them, but she was blushing anyway.

As she looked into Jase’s face and saw he really meant what he said, her heart raced. At the V-neck of his T-shirt, black hair curled against his tan skin. She remembered the scars on his shoulder, the line across his stomach where bullets had almost been the death of him. A field doctor at the refugee camp had done emergency surgery and saved his life under awful conditions. Yes, Jase was lucky to be alive. She knew what the experience had cost him—the notes were in his medical records.

Amy suddenly came running in and wrapped her arms around Sara’s legs. It was a relief to take her attention away from Jase and give it to her daughter. Her first and foremost concern always had to be Amy. “What’s up, Bitsy Bug?”

“I’m not a bitsy bug. I’m Amy.”

Sara hugged her daughter. “Did you get lonely out there?”

“I want to see my room.”

“We can do that. It’s not completely ready yet. Maybe you can help me make the bed.”

“Can Mr. Jase help, too?” Amy looked up at Jase with a wide smile, obviously accepting him into her world. That sweet roll had gone a long way, but his attitude had, too. He didn’t just tolerate Amy, he conversed with her. He got down on her level. A kid could smell a phony a mile away and Jase was no phony.

“I’m sure Mr. Cramer has so many more things to do than help make your bed.”

Jase shrugged. “I took the morning to help. Let’s go see what your room looks like.” He held out his hand to Amy.

Her daughter didn’t hesitate to take it. Jase was so tall, and Amy, so small. Living on the Raintree Winery property, just how often would they see him?

There was a single bed in Amy’s room with a white wood headboard. The short dresser had a child-sized mirror hanging above it. Beside the bed, someone had unfolded a latch-hook rug with adorable kittens scampering on it. A sealed package of new pink sheets, a soft pink blanket and a pink-and-white gingham spread with ruffles lay at the foot of the bed.

“I like pink,” Amy said as if wondering why her mother was hesitating. The truth was, Sara’s throat felt thick and her chest a little tight. Someone had done this for her daughter and she was so thankful for that.

Without her saying a word, Jase seemed to understand. He unfolded the spread and laid it over the wooden rocking chair by the side of the bed. Patting the mattress, he said to Amy, “Try it out. See what you think. You shouldn’t jump on it, but you can bounce a little.”

Forgetting her mom for the moment, Amy crawled up onto the bed and bounced up and down. “It’s soft.”

Jase had already ripped open the package of sheets. He flipped the pillowcase to Amy. “See if you can put the pillow in that. It will be a big help.”

After Amy jumped off the bed, Sara helped her daughter stuff the pillow into the fabric. By then, Jase had the bottom sheet spread on the bed and tucked in.

“Do this often?” Sara teased.

But he said casually, “I’m used to setting up camp. This isn’t all that different. It’s sort of like riding a bike. You never forget how.”

“When you were a kid and living here, I bet you didn’t have to make your own bed.”

A shadow crossed Jase’s face. She’d seen those shadows before when he was remembering something he didn’t want to remember. She could understand that with regard to his injuries and his broken engagement, but with regard to his childhood?

“The housekeeper took care of that.”

“Does your father have help with the house now?” Certainly, he must.

“We have a cook who comes in three times a week. She prepares food and makes sure the refrigerator’s stocked. A cleaning lady also comes in once a week. As I said, my father didn’t particularly like someone else around all the time.”

“But he agreed to let me stay here because it’s temporary.”

“Something like that.”

She laid the pillow on the bed, then lightly touched his forearm. “Because you convinced him.”

“I don’t want you to worry about what my father thinks.”

“But I do.”

“My father dislikes any change, so don’t take his attitude personally. He’s used to Liam coming and going over the winery. He’ll get used to you and Amy, too. He’s a solitary man, Sara. He has a couple of close friends but everyone else is a business contact.”

She wondered what Jase was trying to tell her, but Amy was tugging on her arm and she knew her daughter would soon be needing lunch.

“Can I have some juice? I’m thirsty.”

“I think I saw some boxes of apple juice in one of the bags. How about one of them?” Jase asked. “Come on, let’s go get one while your mom finishes the bed.”

Whatever Jase had been trying to tell her, the moment was gone now. If she knew more about Ethan Cramer, maybe she and Amy wouldn’t have to tiptoe around him.

As Jase and Amy left the room and Sara picked up the spread, she realized she wanted to know more about Jase. But curiosity could get her into deep trouble.

Jase stepped out of the storage shed beside the winery the next day, toolbox in one hand, a toy store bag in the other. Earlier, he had seen Sara leave with Amy and guessed she was going to church first thing on a Sunday morning. She’d returned a little while ago and he had some repairs to make on the cottage, a few details he hadn’t noticed before she’d moved in.

He should stay away from her … he really should. Her husband had only been gone a year and she was vulnerable now, after losing her home. But there was something about Sara that made him want to be around her. Chemistry? Sure, that was part of it. He wasn’t in denial. She turned him on. A woman hadn’t done that in a long time. But there was something else, too. Something to do with the way she looked at the world.

Still, he was going to keep his distance. That was best for both of them. When he knocked on the door to the cottage and Sara opened it, she looked surprised. “Jase, hi. We just got back from church and changed clothes.”

Uh-huh, he’d been right. She’d changed into a flowered blouse and yellow shorts that complemented it. She’d braided her hair at both temples and looked more like a teenager than a thirty-year-old physical therapist.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything. Yesterday I noticed the screen door is off center a bit and the windows in the bedroom won’t open without a lot of effort. Do you mind if I fix them while I have the time?”

“No, I don’t mind. I did have trouble opening Amy’s window this morning. Come on in. We’re still trying to make it our own.” She pointed to Amy who was coloring on the coffee table. “She’s drawing some pictures to hang in her room. If that’s okay. I can get those sticky things for the walls so I don’t make holes.”

“Make all the holes you want. They can be patched.” He glanced at the bag in his other hand, leaned close to Sara and said in a low voice, “I have something for Amy. I know she lost most of her toys. Do you mind if I give it to her?”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know, but I want to. I bought it last week after I knew you were going to move in.”

There was something close to admiration in Sara’s eyes, and he was surprised how that filled him with a sense of satisfaction.

“Can you come here a minute?” Sara called to her daughter.

Amy looked up, saw Jase and smiled shyly.

“I found a friend for you,” he said to her. “He barked at me when I passed him in the store.”

Amy’s eyes widened. “He did?”

Most kids were innocent. They could believe so easily. “Reach into the bag and see if he’ll come out and play.”

Amy checked with Sara. “Can I?”

“Go ahead.”

Amy reached into the bag and drew out a mop of a stuffed dog with black-and-white fur that fell down into his eyes.

“Do you like him?” Jase asked.

“Is he mine?”

“He can be if you name him.”

“He looks like Mom’s mop. Can I name him Moppy?”

“That works for me. I bet he can help you color.”

Amy ran over to the coffee table once more and set him there, right on her drawing. But Sara called her back. “What do you say to Mr. Jase?”

Amy glanced at him and smiled. “Thank you.”

“You’re most welcome.”

“I doubt if she’ll go anywhere without him. Someone donated a doll with a baby carriage, but she does love stuffed toys.” Sara came a little closer to him and whispered, “She lost her favorite in the fire—a teddy bear.”

Sara was close enough to touch, almost close enough to kiss. Absolutely crazy thought. That’s not why he was here. That’s definitely not why he’d asked her to stay. He had a debt to repay to her for giving him back his life. But she smelled so damn good, too. When he’d seen her for physical therapy, he’d figured out she must use some kind of strawberry shampoo or conditioner on her hair because it was her hair that smelled so good.

Backing away, he said, “I don’t want to interrupt whatever you were doing. I’ll work on Amy’s bedroom window first.” He picked up his toolbox and went to the smaller of the two bedrooms, unable to shake the image of him running his fingers through Sara’s hair.

Ten minutes later, Jase had finished with the windows in the two bedrooms. He noticed Sara sitting at the kitchen table, several sheaves of paper in front of her. But he didn’t ask what they were. They were none of his business.

“I’m going to have to take the screen door off its hinges and plane the bottom section. The wood just warped. I could have an aluminum door put on if you’d rather have that.”

“I like the wooden one. I like the old-fashioned look of it. That’s what’s so welcoming about this cottage, the fact that it’s not a cookie-cutter image of all others.”

“I suppose you like the ivy, too? Dad’s been wanting the gardener to tear it all down for a while. They always have an argument about it.”

“I like the ivy, too.” She began mounding the papers and inserting them into an accordion file.

When his gaze fell on it, she explained, “This file of documents and receipts was in my car so it survived the fire. I was going to make copies. It’s ironic I was having trouble with my garage door opener so my car was parked in front of the house. Otherwise, that might have gone up in flames, too.”

“I guess that’s what optimists call a silver lining.” He went to the screen door and began loosening the hinges.

“I was just about to make lunch. Along with the clothes and furniture the volunteers brought, they stocked my refrigerator and freezer. Do you like stir-fry? You’re welcome to stay, unless you and your dad eat Sunday dinner together.”

Jase hesitated before answering and Sara took that the wrong way. Her face flushed a little. “It’s okay if you’d rather not.”

Glancing at Amy, seeing she was lost in what she was doing and not paying any attention to them, he said, “Most of the folks in Fawn Grove who have lived here all of their lives know my history with Raintree Winery.”

“Your history?” Plainly, Sara didn’t understand.

He didn’t confide in many people. He didn’t relive what he’d rather forget. That was true for childhood as well as some of his photojournalistic experiences. But Sara was living here and she might as well know the truth. It might make her feel better about Ethan’s attitude.

“As I mentioned, Ethan Cramer’s not my biological father. I was twelve and in the foster care system when he adopted me.”

Sara was looking up at him now, her golden-brown eyes compassionate, her attitude completely attentive.

Her understanding gaze and silent concentration on him urged him to go on. “My father and I have never been that … close. Maybe I was too old when I came to live here. Maybe he was too set in his ways. We’ve never really talked about it. But we also never had a normal father-son bond.”

“Is that the reason when you came back here two years ago that you didn’t know if you could find a life here?”

“That was a big part of it. The vineyard itself I’d always been drawn to. I started working with the grapes soon after I arrived. My father would show me what to do and I’d do it. Pruning and tying the vines weren’t just chores, because the whole process fascinated me. I learned quickly and easily about the varieties of grapes, the soil, the process of wine-making. My father and I found common ground with what he did here. But other than that— I don’t know if I was completely closed off or if he was. Maybe taking on a twelve-year-old was more than he bargained for. But anyway, since I’ve been back, except for the vineyard, we’ve had separate lives.”

“That’s a shame,” Sara said. “You’re living here together. You should be able to retrace some steps and find understanding.”

“Maybe that’s what neither of us wants.”

“But you should.”

“Sara,” he said with a warning note in his voice.

“Jase, I have no family, except for Amy. Do you think for a minute I’d ever let anything come between us?”

“You’re a good mom, Sara. Of course you believe that. But I wasn’t an innocent kid with no baggage when I arrived here.” He saw the questions in her eyes, but he wasn’t going to answer them.

“No matter what baggage you had, every child just wants to be loved. Heck, every adult just wants to be loved.”

When she said the words, she looked a bit embarrassed. Was she looking for love again? “You’d get married again?”

“Oh, no.”

The way she said it, Jase had a feeling her marriage hadn’t been everything she’d wanted it to be. “Do you want to elaborate a bit?”

“Not really.”

Of course she didn’t. He was treading into private territory and he knew it. “Want to rescind your offer of dinner?”

She looked tempted but shook her head. “No, we’ll just make a pact not to discuss anything too … personal.”

They’d already discussed some things that were personal when he was in physical therapy. After all, Dana’s infidelity had been a huge part of his pessimistic attitude when he’d returned home. “I’d like to stay. It will be a nice break before I head back to the office for the afternoon.”

“Working on a Sunday?”

“A vineyard is similar to a farm. Anything that grows doesn’t take a vacation, and neither does the work that piles up because of it. I have a meeting with Liam later to go over a new organic process. Have you met him yet?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“He’s a friendly guy, sometimes too friendly with the ladies. He dates someone new every weekend.”

“How old is he?”

“Older than I am—forty-five.”

“And you’re thirty-six.”

“You remember?”

“Therapists never forget some of their patients.”

Her words made his heart thump louder and that was silly. She could just mean his condition had been worse than most. She could just mean his emotional scars from the attack and his split with Dana had been more extensive than most. Or she could mean that she’d remembered him as he’d remembered her.

He stepped away. “I should be finished with this door by the time it takes you to make a stir-fry. We could have a race.”

“Or we could take our time and not worry about who finishes first,” she suggested.

Yep, he liked this woman’s positive vision of the world. He just wondered when, exactly, he’d lost his.

During lunch, Jase kept the conversation light, mostly answering questions Sara had about the vineyard and the types of wine it produced. After Amy finished, she scrambled from her chair and curled up with her new stuffed toy, paging through a picture book.

“So she’s in The Mommy Club’s day care program while you work?” Jase asked.

“Yes, she is. The staff are wonderful.”

“I didn’t realize until after a discussion with Marissa that she takes her little boy, Jordan, there, too.” His assistant had told him The Mommy Club day care program allowed for a sliding scale according to a parent’s income. “Marissa doesn’t seem to worry with Jordan there.”

“I think Kaitlyn was involved in hiring the staff,” Sara explained. “What I like is that I can stop in on my lunch hour. In the fall, Amy will be in kindergarten and I’ll have to figure out what to do when she gets off school.”

“Being a parent is never easy, is it? And being a single parent has to be doubly tough.”

Sara didn’t seem to want to comment on that and he wondered if she ever openly discussed her marriage. Her husband had been the manager of a home improvement store, but Jase didn’t know more than that about him. Sara didn’t seem to be in the mood to confide. In a flash, he remembered Dana and her penchant for keeping feelings and motives and even her life on assignments to herself. Most of all, he remembered her betrayal and easy desertion. He really should stay far away from Sara and her marriage and her past. His own past had forged who he was. Maybe everyone had secrets and stories they didn’t want to tell.

Picking up his plate, he stood and said, “I’ll help you clean up.”

But Sara stood, too. “No, of course not. You fixed my windows and screen door and I don’t want to keep you from the rest of your day.”

Subtext: she was ready for him to leave.

He did carry his plate to the sink and set it there. With a glance at Amy, he noticed she’d fallen asleep, Moppy tucked under her arm, the picture book open beside her on the sofa.

“Does she still take naps?” he asked.

“Only when they catch her unaware.”

He smiled. “That would make a wonderful photograph. Almost makes me want to get out my camera again.”

“You don’t take photos anymore? You’re so good at it!”

He gave her a wry look. “I haven’t since I came home. Too many memories about the last ones I took.” Those photos had been shot in the refugee camp the day of the attack.

“You can’t let what happened take away your gift.”

That was one way of looking at it, he supposed.

“I’ll walk you out,” Sara suggested.

She followed him as he opened the screen door, which now hung correctly on its hinges. Outside the cottage, with the scent of roses climbing on a trellis beside the house redolent, he stared down at her, the desire to kiss her so strong he could taste it.

But instead he did the best thing for both of them. He picked up the toolbox he’d left outside the door and said, “Goodbye, Sara.” He could feel her gaze on his back as he walked away.

Chapter Three

Amy ran from Sara’s side before she could catch her.

Her daughter’s giggles reinforced Sara’s resolve that she’d done the right thing by moving to the vineyard a few days ago. But when she saw where Amy was headed, she wondered about her decision all over again.

Jase was standing near a vine-laced trellis, his T-shirt pulling tightly across his shoulder muscles. He was tanned and fit and gave off an eminently masculine air. Especially with more than a day’s beard stubbling his jaw.

When he saw Amy running toward him, he caught her, swung her around and made her giggle more.

He’d make a wonderful dad.

Sara banished the errant thought almost as quickly as it had entered her head and ran over to her daughter. She and Jase hadn’t talked since their impromptu dinner. He’d come and gone, she’d come and gone, and they’d passed like two ships in the night, neither sure where they were headed. But Jase looked sure now.

“She has more energy than a high-speed train,” he remarked with a wry smile.

“And she’s just as fast. All I have to do is blink and she’s into something she shouldn’t be. Sorry if she bothered you.”

“No bother. That’s the nice thing about a vineyard. It’s a big place. Are you settled in?”

“We are.”

The way he was looking at her made her wish she’d combed her hair. She’d changed into shorts and a T-shirt when she’d gotten home from work and now she felt as if his eyes saw everything.

“Come on,” he said. “I’ll give you a tour. Maybe Amy can walk off some of that energy.”

With Amy only a few feet away, Sara focused her attention on the vined trellises rather than on Jase. The trellis system was set up with about twelve feet between the rows and approximately eight feet between vines. “I’ve never tasted Raintree wines.”

“We’ll have to set you up for a wine tasting. We’re the best in the state, but then of course I’m prejudiced. Our tasting host is on vacation right now. But he’ll be back at the end of the week.”

“Tasting host?”

“Tony works closely with Liam, keeps an eye on inventory and handles tours around the vineyard.”

Amy had run up ahead, her attention taken by a stone on the ground.

“Did you ever consider staying here instead of writing and photographing the four corners of the world?”

“No. I felt I had to succeed on my own.”

“Did your father want you to stay?”

Jase cocked his head. “He did. But I needed space … and something different. As a teenager, I read about every place on earth I wanted to see, and I saw causes that needed advocates, especially for kids who were displaced. After college, I found my niche with photojournalism. My editors liked the fact that I could write as well as shoot pics in hot spots.” After a pause, he said, “You’re too easy to talk to. I never revisit my past if I can help it.”

“I don’t have magic powers,” she said with a smile.

“No, but your genuine interest is addictive.”

Was she genuinely interested in Jase Cramer? Glancing at her daughter, remembering her marriage—the highs and lows, the plunge into discord—she knew she shouldn’t be.

Suddenly the sound of a car engine preceded a vehicle along the driveway that led to the cottage. Sara studied the black sedan as it parked next to her car in the gravel area beside the trellis.

“Were you expecting someone?” Jase asked.

“No. Maybe it’s someone here on vineyard business.”

Even as she spoke, she doubted her theory. No one would be coming in the early evening, and besides, the parking lot for the winery was clearly marked by a sign that led visitors there rather than to the cottage.

Jase waited as a short man with wire-rimmed glasses climbed out of the sedan. “I don’t recognize him. Let’s go see what he wants.”

Sara beckoned to Amy and then captured her hand, swinging it between them. At the door to her cottage, she faced the man who wore a three-piece suit and bow tie.

“Mrs. Stevens?” he asked, pleasantly enough.

“Yes, I’m Sara Stevens, and this is Jase Cramer.”

“Pleased to meet you. I’m Ross Kiplinger, from High Point Insurance. I’ve come to ask you a few questions about the house and the fire. This might take a little while. Maybe we could go inside and sit down?”

Sara supposed they’d have to go over the policy Conrad had taken out on their house when he’d bought it.

“I can take Amy on a walk, if you’d like,” Jase offered. “But we’ll stay within shouting distance if you need us. Can we see some ID?” Jase asked the man.

Kiplinger didn’t look put out at all, just took his wallet from his pocket and opened it to his driver’s license. Then he took a security ID badge from an inside pocket. He showed them that, too. “I’m not an ax murderer,” he assured them. “I have a briefcase inside my car that has Mrs. Stevens’s policy inside, if you’d like to see that, too.”

Sara believed he was who he said he was. She crouched down in front of Amy. “Would you like to go for a walk with Mr. Jase?”

Amy glanced down at the stone in her hand, then up at Jase. “Can we find more stones?”

“We can collect as many as you want.” He held out his hand to her and she took it.

As Jase and her daughter walked off, Sara wished she was going with them, rather than stepping inside with Ross Kiplinger. But the sooner she received her fire insurance settlement, the sooner she and Amy would have a normal life again … the sooner they would leave Raintree Winery.

Jase and Amy traipsed along the trellises, looking for anything interesting to explore. Amy was entranced by the shape of a leaf, the length of a vine shoot, a tiny yellow flower that was simply a weed. He knew caring for a child was a heavy responsibility, but he imagined that the joy of living with one could balance that out. All those years he had taken pictures of kids, he hadn’t really considered being a dad himself, maybe because he knew nothing about lasting relationships. Maybe because since he’d returned home, the taste of the betrayal was still too bitter in his mouth. Dana’s involvement with another man while they were engaged, her desertion when he was at his lowest, still stirred resentment he’d like to rid himself of. Most days he pushed the past away and it stayed packed in the boxes up in the attic along with his cameras. But, for some reason, inviting Sara to the vineyard had unearthed much of it.

Sound carried across the vineyard and he heard the rumble of the black car’s engine as it started up. Kiplinger had been with Sara close to an hour.

Amy was stooped on the ground, her red-brown hair falling over her shoulders as she studied a bug crawling through the dirt. He crouched down beside her.

“That’s a busy bug, but I think we’re going to have to leave him for now. I bet your mom’s missing you.”

Amy looked up at Jase. “She cries sometimes. I don’t want her to cry.”

Out of the mouths of babes. Did Sara cry because she missed her husband? Did she still love him? Or had losing everything in the fire caused her tears to flow? She gave the impression that she was strong and could handle anything, but at night, when she was alone, what thoughts ran through her head?

“We wouldn’t want to make her cry. Come on, let’s go back and make her smile. I bet she always smiles when she sees you.”

It only took them about ten minutes to make their way through the rows and find the path that led to the cottage. All was quiet as they approached. Jase was actually a little surprised that Sara didn’t come to meet them. A shout across the vineyard rows, and she would have known where they were.

Jase could see Sara through the screen door. She was sitting on the sofa, staring into space.

Amy pulled open the door and ran toward her, holding out the stones in her little hand.

“Mommy, look what I found.”

Sara immediately took her daughter into her arms, gave her a hug and said, “Let me see.”

But Jase could tell the sound of her voice was forced. He could see her smile wobble. What had gone on with that insurance investigator?

“We’ll have to put your stones in a box. We’ll make it a treasure box.”

“I’ll put it under my bed.”

“That’s a great idea. But right now we have to get you washed up and ready for bed. Jase, thanks for taking her on a walk.”

“I need to snitch one of your bottles of water. Why don’t you put Amy to bed, and then we can talk about your visitor.”

Sara’s eyes grew wide and she looked almost fearful. “There’s no need—”

“I think there is. You look a little shaken up and I’d like to know why.”

She glanced down at Amy. “Honey, why don’t you go wash your hands and brush your teeth. I’ll be in in a minute.”

“Are you going to look for a box?”

“I will. Go on, now.”

When Amy had left the room, Sara squared her shoulders. “I’m fine, Jase. Really. There’s no need for you to stay.”

Should he push, or shouldn’t he? “I’m going to drink that bottle of water. After you put Amy to bed, if you want me to leave, I will. It’s your call.”

Her lower lip trembled a little but then she firmed it up and gave him a resigned look. “Fine. It usually takes about twenty minutes. If you get tired of waiting …”

“I won’t.”

Sara avoided his gaze and went to help her daughter prepare for bed.

Jase stood at the counter, drinking his bottle of water. He didn’t want to crowd Sara. If she wanted him to go, he’d go. If she wanted him to stay, he’d listen, just as she’d listened to him two years ago.

When she returned to the living room, he really wasn’t sure what her decision would be. Her expression was as worried as it had been when he and Amy had returned from their walk.

At first, she looked at him and said, “You might not want to get involved in my life.”

“Listening won’t involve me.”

Her pretty brows hiked up as if to say, You don’t believe that any more than I do.

He shrugged. Then he set his water bottle down and crossed the room to her, settling his hands on her shoulders. “Maybe I can help.”

“No one can help with this. Mr. Kiplinger was here to warn me they might not be paying out on my policy. He didn’t put it into so many words, but the insurance company believes I could have set the fire.”

Nothing had prepared Jase for that, but he didn’t step away. He just responded, “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on.”

Her voice almost a whisper, Sara said, “I don’t talk about my marriage.”

He dropped his hands from her shoulders. “Maybe you should.”

“I’m sure you don’t like to talk about your fiancée calling off your engagement.”

Whoa! So she knew how to fight when the time came. “It was a mutual decision when I found out she was unfaithful. Was your husband unfaithful?”

Sara looked around the room for a minute as if she were trying to find a corner to escape to, as if anything would be better than telling him about this. But then she took a deep breath and motioned to the sofa. “Let’s sit.”

“It’s a long story?” he joked lightly.

“It’s … complicated.”

What relationship wasn’t? he thought.

After they were seated on the couch, she turned toward him, her eyes a little too bright. “When Conrad and I first married, I moved into his apartment because his was bigger than mine. He managed a home-improvement store and it was doing well. My job was secure, so we didn’t have to think about finances very much. But then he entered into talks to open a store of his own. He spoke with bankers and investors, had a couple of custom suits made and his taste in suits, shoes and wine changed, becoming more expensive. I loved him. I trusted him. I thought he could do no wrong so I went along with the changes. Then I got pregnant.”

“Unplanned?” Jase asked.

She tilted her hand back and forth. “We wanted kids. We just weren’t sure when we wanted to start a family. We went away one weekend and the pregnancy was the result.”

Jase found himself not wanting to think about Sara with another man. That was crazy. Conrad had been her husband.

“What happened after your pregnancy?”

“Conrad thought we should buy a house. He was sure the investors for his own store were going to come through. We looked at several houses and there was one we really liked. I thought the price was too high, but Conrad said we could afford it. I wasn’t privy to all of his business dealings, so I believed him. He took care of the paperwork and settled on the house. I knew the mortgage payment each month seemed exorbitant but Conrad said we could manage it, and I shouldn’t worry. I was seven months pregnant then, and concerned about everything baby. The thought of planning the nursery and the baby’s playroom and decorating the rest of the house kept me more occupied than I should have been. I should have asked more questions, but I was a trusting wife.”

Jase heard the bitterness behind the words and suspected what was coming. What was it about loving someone that made a woman put good sense aside and wear blinders? He was a good one to pass judgment on that. Maybe men weren’t much different.

Because Sara had sounded angrier at herself than she did at her husband, he asked, “What didn’t you see?”

“I didn’t see that we were sinking deeper and deeper into debt. I didn’t see that Conrad’s store wasn’t doing as well as he said it was. I didn’t see that his deals with investors never materialized. I didn’t see that the expensive cars and the diamond bracelet he gave me for my birthday were just a sham to cover up everything that was happening.”

“You found out about all this after your husband died?”

“No. That wasn’t the way it happened. The way it happened made everything worse. Men came to the house one evening and repossessed Conrad’s car. Amy was two and I had gone back to work part-time because I really do love what I do. That night I started asking questions and didn’t stop, questions I should have asked a lot sooner. I found out we were so deep in debt I didn’t see how we were ever going to get out. Conrad had lied about so much. There were no investors. Anyone he’d tried to convince decided the economy was too weak. The store he managed wasn’t doing well. Our credit cards had reached their limit. I just felt so … betrayed that he kept it all from me.”

“Once trust is broken, it’s difficult to earn back.”

“Exactly. I found I couldn’t trust him. I didn’t know when to believe him. I had doubts about everything he said. That was our marriage for the next year—all filled with tension, regret and resentment. I went back to work full-time and found The Mommy Club day care instead of a private child care provider. I covered home budget costs wherever I could. But then I found out Conrad was still courting investors for a store that would never be! He was running up bar tabs and dinner tabs that we couldn’t afford. He thought I wasn’t supporting his dreams. I thought he wasn’t facing reality. And then, after a year of living like that, Conrad had a heart attack in his office at work. It was a massive coronary and he couldn’t be revived. The doctors said there was a defect that was probably congenital and Conrad never knew he had it, but I think the stress did it. Our marriage did it. I did it.”

Her voice broke and Jase realized how much all of it still affected her. He also understood what he saw in Sara’s eyes so often wasn’t just grief for her husband, but guilt for his death. That was a heavy burden to carry.

He wanted to cover her hand with his, yet tonight that didn’t seem right, not while they were talking about her husband. “His death wasn’t your fault. He brought everything on by his dishonesty.”

“I brought everything on by not probing and pushing and opening my eyes to what was happening.”

“Sara, you were a young mother with a new baby. You trusted your husband. That’s not a sin.”

“Maybe not, but it sure was a flaw. If I had demanded to be part of the financial planning as we bought the house, or even after Amy was born, everything would have been different.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. If your husband was a spender then he was a spender, and he might have needed help to curb the habit. Determination sometimes isn’t enough. It’s not much different from a drug addict, knowing she should stop and yet she can’t.”

Sara looked at him curiously when he said that, but he stopped there. He wasn’t about to go on. They were talking about Sara, not about him, and that’s the way he’d like to keep it. He’d been in his twenties before he’d finally come to terms with the fact that he was ashamed of his childhood, ashamed of how he’d ended up at Raintree in the first place. He didn’t tell anyone about that. His father didn’t talk about it, either, with good reason. How could he be proud of Jase—born illegitimate, his father unknown and his mother a drug addict? That wasn’t something Ethan liked to tell his friends. That wasn’t something that he’d ever told his friends.

Jase focused on Sara. “Looking at your situation practically, wasn’t it better after Conrad died?”

“Jase! How could you say such a thing?” She looked horrified at his putting the obvious into words.

“You know exactly what I mean. What happened with the debt?”

“Most things weren’t paid off and we still owed, not just the house that was dropping in value every day, but the furniture and the rugs and the wall paintings. After Conrad died, all the debt was left to me. He’d canceled his life insurance policy because he couldn’t make the payments, so I sold what I could—jewelry, rugs, art. I couldn’t sell the house because it had depreciated so much. All I could do was try to keep up with the mortgage payments. Amy and I had a roof over our heads, but I bought day-old bread, pasta on special and didn’t drive anywhere I didn’t have to. Thank goodness Amy was too young to realize what was going on.”

“But children pick up a lot. She probably understood that you were worried all of the time.”

“Yes, I was.”

“But your husband kept the fire insurance on the house.”

“He had to. It was required by the mortgage company. So the house was heavily insured and that’s why the insurance investigator is asking me tons of questions. It’s why he thinks I burned down my house to dig myself out of a hole.”

When Sara looked up at Jase, he knew she wasn’t going to ask the question out loud, but he could hear it, anyway. Do you think I would do such a thing?

His immediate reaction was, No, I don’t. Sara wasn’t that kind of woman. On the other hand, he’d been wrong about a woman before. Exactly how well did he know Sara? He’d invited her here on gut instinct, but now his gut instinct was also telling him to be cautious.

All he said was, “I’m sorry you have to go through this.”

She looked disappointed, maybe even hurt, and he didn’t know what to do about that. But he wasn’t about to become recklessly involved with her. That would be tantamount to marching into war without knowing where the enemy hid … to photographing refugee children without realizing they could all be victims of an attack.

No matter how much he wanted to put the past behind him, it constantly tapped him on the shoulder. Sara’s past would do the same. Her husband had lied to her and put their family in a situation no family should be in. She’d apparently loved him but she’d had to live with doubts while she tried to make her marriage work … while she’d tried to forgive what he’d done. Then he’d left her with a mess.

“Did Kiplinger say what happens next?”

“I wait.”

“Don’t let your thoughts bury you,” Jase advised her. “This could turn out all right in the end. It just might take a while to get settled.”

“If I’m here longer than a month, I’m going to pay you rent.”

“Sara, that’s not necessary.”

“Yes, it is. I don’t want your father to think I’m taking advantage of your hospitality.”

“If you’re here a month, then we’ll talk about it.” Jase rose to his feet, wanting to take her into his arms, yet knowing that wasn’t the prudent thing to do. “Now, you’ve got to get some sleep for work tomorrow.”

“You make this sound as if it’s not serious.”

“I know it’s serious.”

When he gazed into her eyes, he felt a startling sexual arousal that hadn’t plagued him for a very long time. But he willed it under control and he knew the best thing for both of them was for him to leave.

After she rose and walked him to the door, again the same question was in her eyes. Do you believe I would do such a thing?

But he couldn’t answer her now. He couldn’t let his guard down long enough to sort it all out. But he did run his thumb down her cheek, relishing the softness of it. He did say, “We’ll talk again. Soon.”

Then he walked away.

The following evening, Amy held on to Sara’s hand tightly as her mother led her up the flagstone pathway to the vineyard’s office building. She still hadn’t met Raintree’s chief winemaker, Liam Corbett. His comings and goings were at different times than hers. She’d come over to the offices today to see Jase’s assistant. Marissa had watched over Amy on moving day. Since then they had chatted a few times. Sara felt comfortable with her and today she needed some advice from an insider at the vineyard. She could have left already, Sara knew, but her little boy, Jordan, was still at The Mommy Club day care when she’d picked up Amy. Sara was hoping she could catch her if she was working late.

She stooped down to Amy. “This won’t take too long, and I’ll make your favorite supper when we get back—burgers and French fries. But you have to eat a little bit of broccoli, too.”

“Dipped in cheese?”

Sara smiled. “You’ve got it.”

Amy’s Mary Janes tapped on the Mexican tile as they approached the first office in the long hallway. Located beside the winery, this was the hub of Raintree’s business activity. Windows allowed Sara to see Marissa inside the first office. She was waiting at the printer, collecting documents as they spewed out. She was a beautiful woman, a couple of years younger than Sara. Her hair was the deepest brown and curly. Her chocolate-brown eyes were as expressive as her wide mouth, and she didn’t hide what she was thinking. Right now, Sara needed her opinion.

There was a walkway through Marissa’s office that led to a much bigger office beyond. Sara suspected that was where Jase usually sat, at the massive mahogany desk. There were double file cabinets behind it and beautiful paintings of Carmel and Big Sur. His chairs as well as his desk blotter were wine-colored leather. The wood paneling was as fine as the Oriental rug on the floor.

The printer stopped spewing out paper and Sara knocked lightly. Marissa’s face broke into a wide smile. “Sara, it’s so good to see you. You, too, Amy. How do you like your new room?”

Amy stayed close to Sara, then peeked out around her legs. “I like it.”

Marissa laughed. “Well, good.” Her attention went back to Sara. “Are you feeling more at home here?”

“I am, but that’s what I’d like to talk to you about. First, let me ask if I’m tying you up. I don’t want to keep you from picking up your son.”

“I often work late, but now and then, Jase will give me a whole afternoon off. It evens out. He had new orders come in tonight that I had to organize and give to the account manager.”

Sara took a few folded sheets of paper and crayons from her purse. “Do you mind if Amy sits on the floor to draw?”

“She doesn’t have to sit on the floor. Come here, pumpkin. Sit up here at my desk.” She took hold of a pump at the side of the chair and gave it a few squeezes. The chair rose a few inches, making it easier for Amy to draw. “Okay, there?”

Amy nodded.

Marissa motioned Sara toward the file cabinets. “What can I do for you?”

“The cottage is wonderful,” Sara assured her quickly. “Jase has been welcoming. But I don’t want to take advantage of living here. The problem is, there could be a delay with the insurance money on the house.”

“Red tape?”

Marissa’s question was an honest one. She felt more like a friend than a stranger. Should she be honest with her?

“You look troubled about something,” Marissa noticed.

She was obviously perceptive, too. “I am. The insurance company is investigating the fire because I had a lot of debt.”

“Who doesn’t?”

“Mine was substantial, so substantial I believe they think I set the fire.”

“Oh, no! You can’t be serious.”

“I am. No one knows about this besides Jase, so I’d appreciate it if you could keep it a secret.”

“Of course, I can. What do you need from me?”

“I wondered if you know the best place to look for rental properties. I’d even consider a couple of rooms in someone’s house. I want to keep the cost as low as I can. My main problem is moving Amy again. She really is settling in and likes it here. What would you do if it were you and Jordan?”

“If it were me and Jordan, I think I’d stay as long as I could. The vineyard is a beautiful place for Amy to play … a beautiful place to get your footing again. I’m sure Jase doesn’t mind your being here.”

“I don’t know.”

Marissa swept her hair back over her shoulder and studied Sara. “He seemed welcoming when you moved in. Besides, when a man and woman who have chemistry are in the same room, anyone can tell.”

“Oh, no! There’s nothing going on between us. My mind was on Amy and—”

“Tell me you didn’t see how fine Jase looked as he moved in that sofa. Tell me you didn’t notice how gray his eyes are, how his hair falls over his brow, that there’s still that wanderlust element around him that makes a girl want to just run away with him.”

“Are you thinking of running away with him?” Sara asked, partly as a defense, partly because she wanted to know.

“No, he’s not my type. I’m attracted to the bad boys, the ones who love ‘em and leave ‘em.”

Taking a stab in the dark, Sara guessed, “Jordan’s father was one of those?”

After a brief hesitation, Marissa nodded. “He absolutely was, and it wasn’t like I didn’t know what I was getting into. I just wasn’t careful enough.”

“I’m trying to be careful,” Sara assured her. “I have to, for Amy’s sake. Chemistry is fine, but when there’s no future beyond it—”

“You don’t have to tell me about that. I know. You have to be Amy’s future, and I have to be Jordan’s. But there is another side to that. Sometimes we want to be independent women and accept no help from anyone else. That just makes our lives harder. The Mommy Club found me my position here with Jase. It was a gift from heaven because I could get insurance benefits from working here in order to pay my bills when Jordan was born. At first it seemed too good to be true. But Jase had looked at my high school transcript. He liked what he saw. My boss at the restaurant where I was waitressing gave me a good recommendation. He said I was a hard worker, so Jase decided to take a chance on me. It was a gift I accepted. You should consider the cottage a gift you should accept, too. You’ll know when the time’s right to leave.”

“I owe The Mommy Club so much. Is there anything I can do now to start paying them back?”

“Sure. You can help out at the food drive on Saturday.”

She remembered the event Kaitlyn had told her about when she’d moved in. “Can I bring Amy?”

“Sure. It’s at the day care center. A couple of volunteers will keep the kids occupied so we can work.”

“What time?”

“We’re starting early, around 8:00 a.m., but when you get there, you get there. I’m hoping we’ll have so many hands, it will all get organized quickly.”

“You can count on me to be there.”

The two women moved closer to the desk again and looked at the picture Amy had drawn. Right away they could see she’d drawn a tall male stick figure in blue jeans and a T-shirt. She’d drawn herself beside him in a pink shirt and shorts. She was lopsided but recognizable. Her stick fingers were on top of Jase’s. Beside them, she’d drawn a long green vine.

“Jase took Amy for a walk while the investigator talked to me,” Sara explained. “I think she had a good time.”

“Maybe you and Jase should go for a walk,” Marissa suggested with a sly look in her eye.

“No, I’m not going to encourage … chemistry. My life is just too unsettled right now.”

“Chemistry could be fun,” Marissa said with a twinkle in her eyes.

But Sara knew chemistry could also blow up in her face.

Chapter Four

The rest of the week passed quickly as Sara helped her patients recover from injuries, build up strength after surgeries and resume function after a debilitating stroke. Her work kept her focused but every now and then she thought about what Marissa had said. Could others sense an attraction between her and Jase? Was he as attracted to her as she was to him?

She was still asking herself that question among others—like, Did Jase believe she could have set the fire?—as she sorted through a box of donated groceries Saturday morning at the day care center. Carrying the box across the room to station three where the canned vegetables were being stored, she smiled at Kaitlyn who seemed to work tirelessly in her practice as well as help parents whenever she could. With her blond hair and green eyes, Kaitlyn should be on the cover of a magazine rather than trying to make kids laugh when she used her stethoscope.

“I think we have enough canned vegetables for an army,” Sara told her now.

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