“Mary…darling…can you hear me?”

Mary moaned. “Make it go away,” she muttered.

Daniel frowned. “Make what go away?”

“The dreams. Make them all go away.”

He shook his head slightly, ignoring her rambling remarks as he continued to dab her forehead with a dampened handkerchief. Before Daniel could answer her, Hope slid between them.

“Daddy, what’s the matter with Mommy?”

“I think maybe she got too hot.”

Mary found herself focusing on the sound of their voices and wondered, when she looked, which dream she would be in—the one from her past or the one from the future. The urge to scream was uppermost in her mind as she slipped in and out of her fantasy.

Curious as to what she’d see next, she opened her eyes….

Dear Reader,

It’s always cause for celebration when Sharon Sala writes a new book, so prepare to cheer for The Way to Yesterday. How many times have you wished for a chance to go back in time and get a second chance at something? Heroine Mary O’Rourke gets that chance, and you’ll find yourself caught up in her story as she tries to make things right with the only man she’ll ever love.

ROMANCING THE CROWN continues with Lyn Stone’s A Royal Murder. The suspense—and passion—never flag in this exciting continuity series. Catherine Mann has only just begun her Intimate Moments career, but already she’s created a page-turning military miniseries in WINGMEN WARRIORS. Grayson’s Surrender is the first of three “don’t miss” books. Look for the next, Taking Cover, in November.

The rest of the month unites two talented veterans— Beverly Bird, with All the Way, and Shelley Cooper, with Laura and the Lawman—with exciting newcomer Cindy Dees, who debuts with Behind Enemy Lines. Enjoy them all—and join us again next month, when we once again bring you an irresistible mix of excitement and romance in six new titles by the best authors in the business.

Leslie J. Wainger

Executive Senior Editor

The Way to Yesterday
Sharon Sala

MILLS & BOON

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SHARON SALA

is a child of the country. As a farmer’s daughter, her vivid imagination made solitude a thing to cherish. During her adult life, she learned to survive by taking things one day at a time. An inveterate dreamer, she yearned to share the stories her imagination created. For Sharon, her dreams have come true, and she claims one of her greatest joys is when her stories become tools for healing.

During my lifetime, there have been many people who’ve made promises to me. Some have been diligent in keeping the pledges they made, while others swiftly forgot or ignored the fact that they’d once given their word.

I want to dedicate this book to three very special people who have been forever faithful to me in this respect.

First, to my agent, Meredith Bernstein.

Thank you for your honesty and your constancy and your belief in what I do.

Next, to my editor, Leslie Wainger.

Thank you for trusting me enough to let me tell my stories my own way.

Last, but not least, to Dianne Moggy.

Thank you for taking me in at MIRA and letting me stretch my wings and fly.

Three ladies who are, to me, the epitome of class.

Thank you for your presence in my life.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Epilogue

Chapter 1

“I’m sorry Ms. O’Rourke, but your friend had to cancel your luncheon appointment. She said to tell you that the school called. Her daughter is ill and she had to go home. She tried to reach you at your office but you’d already left. May I seat you at a table for one?”

Mary Faith O’Rourke shook her head. “No, thank you. I won’t be staying,” she said softly, and walked out of The Mimosa without looking back.

It wasn’t as if she’d wanted to come. For the past six years she hadn’t wanted to do anything but die, and today was no exception. Exactly six years ago today, her husband and child were killed in front of her eyes.

Her friends worried about her, and in the back of her mind, she appreciated their kindnesses and sincerity. But they simply did not understand. Oh, they knew what had happened, but they didn’t know the details or the guilt with which Mary lived.

Yes, she had been standing in her front yard when her husband had backed out of the driveway with their baby in the car. And yes, she had heard, before she’d seen, the police car come careening around the corner in pursuit of another vehicle. And yes, she had yelled at Daniel—screaming for him to stop. But they didn’t know that the reason he’d been leaving the house was because they’d had a fight, or that the last words they’d spoken to each other had been in anger. They would never understand how insidious guilt was, or that she had tried so hard to die along with them when the three cars had collided and then burst into flames. Watching Daniel and their baby daughter die in that fire had destroyed her spirit. Now, she was just waiting for her body to catch up.

She glanced at her watch. It was a whole hour before she had to be back at work at the dress shop across town and since food was the farthest thought from her mind, she started to wander the streets.

It had been years since she’d been in this part of Savannah, but her friend had been insistent, raving about the renovations that had been done and the new businesses that had sprung up afterward. Mary had to admit that the place looked good. Old cement had been removed from the sidewalks, revealing a herringbone pathway of ancient, red bricks. Trees lined the curbs on both sides of the street, laying down a wide swath of shade for the shoppers who were on foot. Dainty trellises covered with climbing ivy and bougainvillea partially hid the tiny alleys between the buildings, giving the area an old-world appearance.

Mary walked and looked, but without really seeing. As she stopped at a crosswalk, waiting for the light, she overheard the conversation between the two women in front of her. Three children had gone missing from Savannah schools over the past six weeks, the latest only the day before yesterday. With no clues as to what had happened to them, Mary could only imagine the parents’ fears. She knew the meaning of loss and of mind-numbing fear, and she felt guilt that she had prayed for the children’s safe return without actually believing it would happen. The truth was, Mary had lost her faith in God and humanity.

She continued to walk, absently window-shopping without interest in buying. It wasn’t until later when she stopped in front of a jewelry store to look at the window display that she realized she was lost. Curious, rather than concerned, she turned around, intent on searching for familiar landmarks, when the store across the street caught her attention.

The name over the doorway intrigued her. Time After Time. But when she realized it was an antique shop, pain hit her with the force of a fist to the gut, leaving her weak and motionless.

Before she and Daniel had married, antiquing had been one of their favorite pastimes. She loved old cookbooks and tiny treasures that were often overlooked by the true collectors. But that was back when they had still been happy, when his family hadn’t known she existed. She shuddered. God. How many times in the past six years had she relived those last moments of their lives? Remembering the fights was like being stabbed repeatedly in the heart, and always because of the same thing.

His parents hated her, and she hadn’t known how to make him understand. She couldn’t forget the sounds of her baby’s shrieks, echoing above their own shouts, and feeling the guilt of knowing that she was frightened by their anger and harsh words.

She had known Daniel was frustrated with everything, including her constant tears and her inability to get along with his family. She had lived in fear that he would get fed up with her and leave, then knowing if that happened that her world would come to an end. And it had happened, but not as she’d expected. She had feared that he would leave her, but not that he would die in the process.

A car sped past in front of her, shattering her concentration.

God…how much longer do I pay penance before you put me out of my misery?

As usual, she got no answer to the question. Weary all the way to her soul, she started to turn away, barely missing a young boy on a bicycle as he came flying around a corner. In reflex, she jumped off the curb to keep from being hit and when she turned around, realized she was halfway across the street on her way to the antique store.

Longing for a connection with the man that she’d loved and lost, she started toward the store, hesitating only briefly as she reached the door. When she stepped inside, she paused and took a deep breath. The scent of well-oiled wood and ancient books mingled with the faint layer of dust on the jumbled up counter. To a true antique buff, it was like waving free money in front of an addicted gambler.

Telling herself she was a glutton for punishment, she let the door shut behind her. As it did, a small bell jingled from somewhere overhead. At the same moment, her gaze caught and held on the old man behind the counter.

She hadn’t seen him at first, but when the bell sounded, he’d looked up and the movement had caught her eye. He was tiny and stooped and looked as old as the jumble of artifacts in the store. He had a tube of glue in one hand and a pair of tweezers in the other. She could just see the corner of a picture frame on the table in front of him and supposed he was trying to repair something that had broken.

“I’m just looking,” she said.

He nodded and then returned to his task.

A slight shift of relief moved through her when she realized he wasn’t going to follow her around in the store, trying for the hard-sell approach. She and Daniel had always liked to browse on their own.

Her nose wrinkled slightly in reaction to the musty odors as she moved toward the back of the store. The farther back she went, the more narrow the aisle became. Finally, she found herself holding the skirt of her dress against her body to keep from sweeping the dust off from an assortment of old tables and chairs.

Despite her initial nervousness in coming inside, she quickly lost herself in what Daniel used to call her “search mode.” She shopped from instinct rather than a skill of knowing true antiques, and her purchases had always reflected that. She bought because she liked a piece, rather than due to any value it might have. In all those precious years with Daniel, her favorite purchase was still a small fluted vase for which she’d paid the huge sum of fifty cents. It was barely big enough to hold a single sprig of honeysuckle, but its fragility reminded her of a kinder, gentler time and place. If she closed her eyes, she could still see the laughter on his face when she’d crowed with delight at the find.

Determined to proceed, she jutted her chin and pushed past the dusty jumble toward a single counter at the back of the room.

There, in the middle of the mess, was a small glass case filled with an assortment of jewelry. The padlock on the case was rusty, which went rather well with the thick layer of dust on top of the glass. Determined to look inside, she took out a tissue and gave the dust a quick swipe. The moment she did, she knew she wanted to see more.

She turned and called out to the old man up front.

“Sir…I’d like to see the jewelry inside this case. Do you have the key?”

She heard the sound of chair legs scooting against wood and then the squeak of a drawer opening and closing. A few seconds later, the old fellow emerged and started toward her.

Mary tried not to stare, but there was something so compelling about his face that she couldn’t look away. It was a mixture of age and grief and a knowing that comes with having outlived too many friends and family.

He stepped past her without speaking, removed the tiny padlock with surprising ease, then opened the case. For a moment, their gazes met and Mary felt as if someone had caressed her face. But then he blinked and the notion passed.

“Thank you,” she said. “I’m interested in those rings. Do you mind if—?”

He walked away without bothering to comment and Mary shrugged. It was obvious from the dusty contents of the store that he didn’t sell much, and if his behavior with her was normal, it was a wonder someone hadn’t stolen him blind.

She dug into the display, soon realizing that most of it was junk, although the rings were another matter. Eagerly, she glanced through the lot, fingering them gently and sorting through the array, trying on one, then another. A few minutes later, convinced she’d seen all there was to see, she started to close the case when she noticed a tattered piece of lace stuffed in the corner of the case. Curious, she picked it up, then gasped in delight when a single ring tumbled out in her hand.

The band was silver, etched with an elaborate series of engravings that were reminiscent of a twining ivy and set with a single, clear blue stone. Blue topaz, she thought, and turned it toward the weak, yellow glow from the single bulb hanging from the ceiling. The light caught and held in the stone like an ember coming to life. She turned it in her hand, admiring the workmanship and wondering what it cost when she realized there was an inscription within. She squinted, trying to read the elaborate script and only with some effort finally discerned what was there.

I promise you forever.

Her eyes filled with tears. There was no forever.

Thinking of the man who’d first given this ring to his love, she clutched it in her fist and then closed her eyes. Daniel’s face slid through her mind and without hesitation, she slipped the ring on her finger.

Just because it was there.

Just because the promise was forever.

Within seconds, her finger began to burn. She jerked back in shock and yanked at the ring, trying to pull it off but it wouldn’t come. She cried out, both in fear and in pain. As she did, the little old man suddenly appeared before her.

“Oh my God…oh my God…Sir, please help me. I can’t get this—”

He smiled and the pain disappeared. Again she felt as if someone had just kissed the side of her face. She held up her hand, but the old man just nodded, as if in understanding. Although his lips never moved, Mary thought she heard him tell her it would be all right. Before she could argue, a sudden wave of dizziness sent her reaching for a dusty old highboy to steady herself.

“I don’t feel so good,” she muttered, and knew she should have eaten lunch after all.

A faint shift in the air almost took her breath away, then the pressure in the room began to expand. Even though she knew she was standing still, it felt as if she’d started to turn. Around…and around…and around…the chairs and the tables, the dusty pictures on the wall began to move backward, like a carousel in reverse. Everything in the room began to turn, taking Mary with it. She wanted to close her eyes, but she was afraid if she did she’d fall off the world. The old man’s image began to waver before her eyes, as if he’d suddenly lost substance. A sudden chill filled the air, and panic struck Mary dumb as the old man disappeared. She stared in disbelief at the place where he had been standing.

The scent of dust and camphor was thick around her as was another, less potent, but still definable scent: the scent of lavender and dried rose petals. She heard crying and laughing, then a single, thin high-pitched wail and knew it was her own. Something within her snapped and she felt herself falling.

When she came to, she was standing at her kitchen sink. The smell of baby formula was thick in her nose and she could hear her baby crying in the next room.

Oh God…not this. Not again.

Gritting her teeth, she felt herself turn, knowing that Daniel would be standing in the doorway as he’d been before—looking at her as if she was a stranger and not the woman he’d made a child with—not the woman he’d taken as his wife. She heard herself saying the same words and wanted to scream. She knew what she would say because she’d heard it every night for the past six years. Was this her punishment for still being alive when everyone she loved was dead? Was she doomed to replay her last moments with Daniel and Hope forever? Would this nightmare never stop?

“Isn’t her bottle ready yet?” Daniel asked.

Mary turned toward the sink where the bottle was warming in a pan of hot water. She yanked it out, shook a few drops on her wrist to test for temperature and started past him when he stepped in her way.

“I’ll do it,” he said, and took the bottle out of her hands.

Mary felt his rejection as plainly as if he’d slapped her in the face. She turned and stared back at the room. The sink was full of dirty dishes, and there was a pile of laundry in the floor just inside the laundry room in need of washing. The scent of burned bacon from breakfast was still strong in the air, and she needed to mop the floor. In the next room, she heard the low rumble of Daniel’s voice as he soothed their baby girl, then heard Hope’s satisfied gurgle as she began feeding from her bottle. Her shoulders slumped. She was a failure. Everything she tried to do went wrong.

From their first date, she’d known he was the man she wanted to marry. His Irish charm had worked magic on her too-tender heart and their first kiss had turned her knees to jelly. She’d loved him without caution and gotten pregnant for her abandon. She had to admit that he’d never wavered when she’d told him she was carrying his child. He had seemed elated and had quickly asked her to marry him that very same night. But his family, which had kept her at arm’s length from the start, was furious. As they were certain that she’d gotten pregnant just to trap their only child into marriage, their cool behavior toward her had changed to an underlying hate. And they were so good at it—never maligning her or making snide remarks when Daniel was in earshot, always waiting until she was on her own. The sheer force of their will was eating away at her sanity and causing friction between Daniel and her. He didn’t understand, and she didn’t know how to tell him without sounding like a tattle tale, so she kept her pain inside and let the infection of it spill out into their personal lives.

In the other room, Daniel looked down at his daughter’s face, marveling at the perfection in such tiny features and felt his heart twist into a deep abiding ache. He’d had no idea that love such as this even existed. He had been certain that the love he felt for his Mary Faith was perfect and all-consuming and then he’d seen Hope being born. The bond had been instantaneous and he had expected their child to cement their love even more. To his surprise, Mary had begun to pull away—keeping her emotions to herself in a way he didn’t understand. She rarely left the house and when she did, seemed to scuttle through the errands like a crab seeking shelter, relaxing only after they were home again.

As for his parents, she had completely withdrawn from them and he didn’t understand why. It seemed the only time she was even slightly comfortable was when it was just the three of them, alone at home. She had to understand that his parents needed to be a part of Hope’s life, too. After all, they were her grandparents. He knew that Mary had grown up without any family of her own, and would have thought she’d be elated to share his. But it was just the reverse. Daniel wanted to believe that her reluctance to be with his family was nothing more than needing to recover from giving birth. But Hope was three months old now and things weren’t getting better. They were getting worse. He went to bed with a knot in his belly and woke up the same way. Without knowing why, he was losing his wife, and it scared the hell out of him. And because he was so afraid, his fear often came out in anger.

He heard Mary banging pots in the kitchen and sighed. He wasn’t fooled. She did that to cover up the sound of her tears. He looked down at their baby, his heart full to breaking and felt like crying himself. They’d made this baby with so much love—where had it gone?

Mary squirted a dollop of dishwashing liquid into the sink, filled it with hot water and put the dishes in it to soak for a few minutes as she went to start the laundry. Her back ached. Her head throbbed. But it was her heart that hurt the most. Last night she had turned to Daniel in her sleep and awakened as he rolled over and shrugged out of her grasp. She knew it was only a matter of time before he told her he wanted a divorce. She couldn’t really blame him. He didn’t know what was going on between her and his family and she didn’t know how to separate his love for her from his love for them. It was all a horrible mess.

She shoved a load of Hope’s baby clothes into the washer, added laundry detergent and started the machine, then went back to the dishes in the sink. Without thinking, she plunged her hand in the water and at once, felt a sharp, piercing pain.

“Ooh!!” she cried, and yanked her hand back. It was dripping blood.

“Mary! What’s wrong?” Daniel called.

“Nothing,” she said, then grabbed a hand towel and quickly wrapped it around her slashed finger before dashing toward the bathroom.

Daniel looked up from feeding Hope in time to see Mary bolt through the living room and then down the hall. Hope was almost through with her feeding and already half-asleep. Concerned, he laid her down in her bassinet and then went to see what was going on. He walked into the bathroom just as Mary started pouring alcohol over the wound.

“My God!” he cried. “Honey…are you all right? What happened?”

“Obviously, I cut my hand,” Mary snapped.

Her anger sideswiped him, leaving him frustrated and hurting. And because he hurt, he lashed back.

“I can’t win with you, can I?” he muttered, yanked the alcohol bottle out of her hand and began ministering to her himself. “No matter what I say, it’s wrong.” Then he peered a bit closer, assessing the cut. “I don’t think it needs stitches, but maybe we should go to the emergency room…just in case.”

“We can’t afford a trip to the emergency room,” she said. “Just give me some Band-Aids. They’ll do just fine.”

Daniel froze.

Mary felt sick. Daniel looked as if she’d just slapped him. But if she went, Phyllis O’Rourke would find out and she would find a way to say something hateful about the money an emergency room visit would cost. She couldn’t face another one of Phyllis O’Rourke’s tirades. He didn’t know that his mother had been sniping at Mary for weeks about the fact that her son was having to work too hard on his own and that she should be doing her part by going back to work, too. No matter how many times Mary had tried to explain that she and Daniel had made the decision together that she should stay home with their child, it never seemed to matter. Phyllis blamed Mary for everything wrong in Daniel’s life.

Mary sighed. “Daniel…I’m—”

Hope started crying. Daniel took a deep breath and momentarily closed his eyes, as if trying to make himself calm. When he looked up, Mary actually flinched and took a step backward. That hurt him most of all. Dear God! Did she actually think he would strike her?

Hope’s wails increased.

Suddenly, he snapped.

“Damn it all to hell, Mary Faith. That does it! I am taking you to the emergency room. We’ll drop Hope off at Mom’s on the way. No need exposing her to God knows what. And when we get home, we’re going to talk. I don’t know what’s wrong with us…but I am sick and tired of being shut out of your life. Do you hear me?”

“No!” Mary cried, and clutched his arm. “Please don’t take Hope to your mother’s house. I don’t need to go to the emergency room. It’ll be fine. See…it’s almost stopped bleeding.”

Daniel ignored her and kept walking toward the living room to get their baby.

Mary followed, still begging him to stay, but her pleas fell on deaf ears. She watched in horror as Daniel got a fresh bottle from the fridge, packed the diaper bag and then picked up their crying baby. Almost instantly, Hope’s crying stopped, but now Mary was in tears.

“I won’t go!” she cried. “You can’t make me.”

Daniel turned, staring at her as if she were a stranger.

“Fine,” he said. “Stay here. But I’m still taking Hope to Mom’s and when I get back, we’re going to talk.”

He strode out of the house, put Hope in the baby seat in the back of their car and strapped her in, ignoring the fact that Mary had followed him out into the yard, still begging him to stay.

The moment he laid Hope down, she began to cry again. But Daniel couldn’t let himself focus on her tears. Her diaper was dry and she wasn’t in pain. She just liked to be rocked to sleep and he’d laid her down a bit too soon.

“Hush, baby girl,” he said softly. “You’re okay. You’re okay. Grandma Phyllis will rock you back to sleep when we get to her house.”

He closed the back door and then turned to get in when Mary grabbed at his arm.

“Daniel…please! Don’t! You don’t know what you’re doing to me.”

He frowned. “To you? Damn it, Mary Faith! Don’t you know what you’ve done to me? To us?”

Panic began to rise.

Mary stepped back, watching in horror as Daniel got into the car and closed the door.

Her heart began to race—her stomach turned. She didn’t want to be here again. She knew what was going to happen. She’d seen it every night in her sleep for the past six years.

Oh God…wake me up before the crash. Please…I don’t have the strength to see it again.

Daniel started the car. Mary stood, frozen to the spot, listening to the sound of her daughter’s shrieks. Daniel put the car in gear and began backing down the drive. Mary could already hear the sound of an approaching siren, but Daniel couldn’t hear for the baby’s cries.

Oh God…oh God.

The brown sports car suddenly appeared, careening around the corner and fishtailing as the driver tried to maintain control.

Oh God…oh God.

The police car came seconds later, sirens at full blast—lights flashing.

And Daniel is looking at me, not behind him.

Suddenly, Mary bolted, screaming as she ran, and threw herself on the hood of the car. Daniel hit the brakes and then put the car in Park just as Mary slid off the hood.

His heart was in his mouth as he bolted from the car. Dear God…if Mary had fallen beneath the wheels he would never forgive—

Suddenly, he became aware of the sirens and spun in shock, just in time to see the sports car spin out of control. A heartbeat later, the police car broadsided it and the cars exploded in a ball of flame.

Without thinking, he slammed the car door to keep flying debris from hitting Hope and threw himself over Mary’s prone body.

Mary was in shock. The dream! It wasn’t the same! It wasn’t the same. Overwhelmed with relief, she started to cry. Thank God. Thank God. Maybe this meant she was starting to heal. Even if it was just a dream, she’d given herself a happy ending.

“Mary, darling…are you all right?”

Daniel’s weight on her back felt wonderful, as did the sound of his voice in her ears.

“Yes, Daniel, I am now.”

He pulled her to her feet and then held her tight, pressing her face against his chest as he stared at the two cars engulfed in flames.

“If you hadn’t stopped me, we would have—”

“Don’t say it,” Mary begged, and put her hand to his lips. Then she moved from his arms to the car, opened the back door and lifted her screaming daughter from the seat. “It’s all right, punkin…it’s all right,” Mary crooned. “Mommy’s got you now. You’re going to be just fine.”

Daniel watched the two most important women in his life walk back in the house, then got in his car and pulled it back up the drive, away from the flames. Already, he could hear more approaching sirens. The neighbors must have called the police. It was just as well. He’d been too shaken too think past his own family’s safety.

With one last regretful glance at the cars and for the demise of both drivers, he hurried back into his home and found Mary in the rocker, singing softly to their daughter as she drifted off to sleep.

Without talking, he went into the kitchen, stood at the sink and stared down into the bloody water for a moment, then pulled the stopper. As the water began to drain away, he saw the knife at the bottom of the sink that had cut Mary’s hand. Cursing softly, he laid it on the counter, refilled the sink with clean water and soap, and did the dishes. He could still hear Mary singing, but Hope was no longer crying. At least she was happy because now he felt like crying. He’d come so close to killing both himself and Hope.

Bracing himself against the top of the washing machine, he closed his eyes and dropped his head.

“Thank you, Lord,” he muttered, then took the clean clothes out of the washer and dropped them into the dryer before grabbing the broom and sweeping the kitchen floor.

A short while later, he had finished with the morning chores. He went into the living room to check on Mary and found Hope asleep in the bassinet and Mary asleep on the sofa. Pain wrapped itself around his heart and squeezed. Not much, but just enough to remind him of what he’d almost lost. Then he picked Hope up from the bassinet and carried her into the nursery down the hall, covered her up with her favorite blanket and closed the door. She would sleep for at least an hour, maybe more.

He went back to the living room, gazed down at his wife’s thin, pale face and then at the blood seeping from beneath the bandages on her finger and sighed. She probably needed stitches, but what was done, was done. He got a small towel and wrapped it around Mary’s hand, then covered her with an afghan. She needed to sleep worse than she needed stitches, and he needed to think.

Chapter 2

Mary woke with a start, then sat up in fright. Hope’s old bassinet was in the living room, her finger was throbbing, and it was almost noon. She wouldn’t stop to let herself even wonder where that bassinet had come from or why her finger was wrapped up in a bandage and towel. The last thing she remembered was walking into an antique shop. How she’d gotten home was beyond her and why she was on the sofa instead of in her bedroom was beside the point. She had overslept and her boss at the dress shop was bound to fire her.

Thinking she would immediately call in to the store, she bolted to her feet, frantically searching for the phone, but it wasn’t in its usual place. Then she saw the stroller by the front door and Daniel’s jacket on the back of a chair and went weak with relief.

The dream.

She was still having the dream, and as long as she slept, Daniel and Hope were still alive.

She looked in the nursery. The baby wasn’t there, but when she walked back in the hall and heard the soft rumble of Daniel’s laughter and a high-pitched baby squeal, it made her smile. Following the sounds to the small patio beyond the kitchen, she found Daniel in a chaise lounge under their shade tree, holding Hope against his chest. She was on her back, her arms and legs beating the air as she gazed upward into the treetop.

She combed her fingers through Daniel’s thick, dark hair, relishing the feel of it against her palm, and then leaned down and kissed the side of his cheek.

“You shouldn’t have let me sleep so long.”

He looked up and smiled. “Why not? You needed it, honey. Besides, where else would I rather be than with my girls?”

Mary conscience tugged. If only she believed that he meant it.

“Really, Daniel? Do you really mean that? In spite of…I mean, things haven’t been…”

“Come sit by me.”

She hesitated, then when he moved his feet to give her room, she sat. She glanced at Daniel and then focused her attention on Hope, laughing at the baby’s antics, unaware that Daniel was watching her and not their child.

Except for being thinner and paler, and a little the worse for a constant lack of sleep, she was the same pretty woman she’d always been. Hair the color of caramel taffy framed a small, slender face. Sometimes he thought her eyes were blue. Sometimes they almost looked green. But he could always see the tenderness of her spirit looking out at him from within. Only now, Daniel was trying to understand where her uncertainty had come from. Before they’d married, he’d never seen her down or second-guessing herself. Now she seemed to do nothing else.

“Mary?”

She looked up and the expression on his face was a bit frightening.

“What?” she asked, and then caught herself holding her breath as she awaited his response.

“What’s happening between us?”

Her shoulders slumped. “Nothing.”

“It’s not nothing,” he said gently.

“You’re right. It’s me. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m so mean and hateful.” Her chin trembled. “I don’t mean to be.”

“You aren’t mean or hateful,” he said. “And it’s not you. It’s something else, isn’t it?”

Tell him. Tell him how much Phyllis hates me.

“I don’t know what you mean.” She was saved from having to talk further as the phone began to ring. “I’ll get it,” she said, and ran for the back door, leaving Daniel with a heavy heart and unanswered questions.

A few moments later she peeked out the back door.

“It’s Phyllis. She wants to talk to you.”

Daniel looked at Mary. That sick, nervous expression was back on her face.

“Tell Mom I’ll call her back later, okay?”

Mary nodded and then went back into the living room and picked up the receiver.

“Phyllis, he’s outside with Hope. He said he’ll call you later.”

“You’re lying. You didn’t even tell him, did you?”

Mary’s stomach knotted. “Of course I’m not lying. He said he’d call you back.”

“I don’t believe you,” Phyllis snapped.

The phone went dead in Mary’s ear. She replaced the receiver and then slumped where she sat. Leaning forward, she rested her elbows on her knees and covered her face, trying to regain her composure before she went back outside. But when she stood up and turned, Daniel was standing in the doorway.

Mary flinched, wondering how much of their conversation that he’d heard.

“I was just coming back out,” she said, and made herself smile.

“Hope’s wet,” he said.

“I’ll change her,” Mary said, took her from Daniel’s arms and escaped into the nursery.

Daniel’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he watched her go. He hadn’t heard the conversation, but he’d heard the panic in her voice. What the hell was going on? Better yet—why wouldn’t she tell him?

He followed her into the nursery and slipped an arm around her shoulders as she fastened the last tab on Hope’s diaper. Just for a moment, he felt her hesitate and then lean back against his chest, just as she’d done so many times before. His heart quickened. He couldn’t remember the last time she’d let her guard down like that.

“Are you okay?”

The deep rumble of his voice, as well as the gentleness of his touch, was almost her undoing. She wanted to tell him now, in the quiet of their daughter’s room, but then he took hold of the hand that she’d cut and placed a tender kiss in the palm of her hand.

“How about we give this poor little hand a rest? I’ll make us some sandwiches for lunch and tonight we could order in. We’ll have an early dinner…maybe watch a movie. It’s been a long time since we’ve done anything for us.”

She laid Hope in her crib and then turned, unaware that the shimmer in her eyes was a dead giveaway of her emotions.

“I’d love that. You choose the food. I’ll choose the movie.”

He grinned. “As long as you don’t make me watch You’ve Got Mail again, you’ve got a deal.”

Mary made a face. “But I like Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks.”

“I do, too, but I’ve seen that movie enough already to last me a lifetime.”

“Then how about Sleepless in Seattle?” she asked, fully aware that her two favorite actors also starred in that movie, as well.

He growled as he swung her off her feet.

“You pick the food. I’ll pick the movie,” he bargained.

“Chinese.”

“Lethal Weapon.”

They laughed in unison and then walked out of the room arm in arm. For now, the tension between them had been shoved aside in the joy of the unexpected reunion.

Less than an hour later, the doorbell rang. Daniel was in the act of slicing tomatoes for their lunch.

“I’ll get it,” Mary said. The smile was still on her face as she opened the door, but when she saw the expression on Phyllis O’Rourke’s face, it was all she could do to be civil. “Phyllis…what a nice surprise. Please, come in.”

“Where’s Daniel?”

“In the kitchen making sandwiches for our lunch. We’d love to have you join us.”

Phyllis glared. “Isn’t it enough that he works all week as a lawyer? Must he come home and feed himself, too?”

Mary’s stomach began to knot. She held up her bandaged hand to add to a hasty explanation.

“I cut myself this morning. He’s only helping—”

“It’s always something with you, isn’t it?” Phyllis said, and physically pushed Mary aside as she strode into the house.

Mary staggered, then steadied herself by grabbing onto the small table in the hall. Sick at heart, she turned around and saw Daniel standing in the doorway. The look on his face was somewhere between disbelief and fury.

“Mother?”

Phyllis turned, her expression full of indignation.

“I called you about an hour ago, did you know that?”

“Yes, Mary told me. Didn’t she tell you that I would call you back when I had time?”

Phyllis looked as if she’d just been drop-kicked. She glanced at Mary and then back at her son.

“Well…yes…I suppose she mentioned it, but you didn’t call and I needed…” She took a deep breath and started over, refusing to admit she’d been wrong. “Your Aunt Evelyn is in town. She and Hubert are coming to dinner tonight and I want you to come.”

Daniel looked at his mother, then at Mary, who was still clutching the hall table as if it were a lifeline. Suddenly, things were beginning to make sense.

Mary braced herself, waiting for Daniel to accept and knowing that she would have to endure a night of misery when they went. But Daniel surprised her by refusing.

“Sorry, Mom,” then he walked past Phyllis and put an arm around Mary and gave her a quick hug. “We’ve already made other plans.”

Phyllis’s lips went slack. If he’d slapped her, she wouldn’t have been more surprised. She glared at Mary, convinced that the woman was, somehow, at the bottom of Daniel’s refusal.

“But Evelyn hasn’t seen your daughter and there’s no telling when they’ll be back in town.”

Ignoring the whine in his mother’s voice, he tightened his grip on Mary.

“Hope isn’t just my daughter, Mother, she’s our daughter, and I’m sorry we can’t come. Tell Aunt Evelyn we’ll send her some pictures, okay?”

Mary was in shock. She still couldn’t believe what was happening or what had caused it, but it was all she could do not to giggle with relief.

“Want to stay and have lunch with us?” Daniel asked. “It’s not much. I’m not as good a cook as Mary, but she cut her hand pretty badly this morning and I’m filling in. I still think she should have gotten stitches, but she thought otherwise. Anyway, it’s only canned soup and sandwiches, but I slice a pretty mean tomato.”

Phyllis wouldn’t look at Mary and couldn’t meet Daniel’s gaze.

“No…I’d better not. Since I’m having company tonight, there are a dozen things I need to do.” She smoothed a hand down the front of her dress and then lifted her chin and made herself smile. “Thank you for the invitation, though. Maybe some other time.”

“Give our love to Hubert and Evelyn,” Daniel said.

“Yes…yes, I will,” Phyllis muttered. “They’re going to be disappointed.”

Daniel chuckled. “Then maybe next time they’ll call ahead and let people know they’re coming.”

Phyllis didn’t bother to comment as she let herself out of the house.

The moment she was gone, Daniel took Mary by the shoulders.

“Mary…”

She sighed, then looked up.

“Talk to me.”

“What is there to say?”

“You can start by telling me how long she’s been treating you like this.”

Mary’s chin trembled, but she wouldn’t let herself cry.

“Since the day she found out I was pregnant and we were going to get married.”

“No way!”

“Oh, but yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Suddenly, Mary’s chin jutted mutinously. “And say what? That your mother thinks you would never have asked me to marry you if I hadn’t gotten pregnant?”

“That would have been fine for starters,” he muttered.

“I couldn’t,” she said, then pulled out of his grasp and turned away.

“Why the hell not?”

She answered, but the words were spoken so softly, he couldn’t hear what she said.

“What did you say?”

She pivoted sharply, her voice rising in misplaced anger.

“Because I wasn’t sure but what it might be the truth.”

Daniel was momentarily speechless, unable to believe the words that had come out of her mouth.

“You can’t be serious!”

She stood her ground without answering.

Daniel tried to draw a deep breath and choked on tears instead.

“My God, Mary Faith…how can you doubt me like that?”

Mary’s lips trembled as her eyes welled.

“Oh, baby…don’t,” Daniel begged. “Please don’t cry.”

He pulled her close; his hands shaking as he tunneled his fingers through her hair, then rocked her where she stood.

“I promise you will never suffer another indignity from my family and I apologize for being blind to what they’ve been doing. Trust me. It won’t happen again. I love you so much, sweetheart, and losing you would kill me.”

“You can’t lose me,” she whispered. “And I love you, too, Daniel. Forever.”

“Okay, then,” he said softly, then gave her a kiss so tender that it stole her breath away.

“Are you real hungry?”

Mary tilted her head, meeting his gaze with a smile.

“Not for food.”

“Thank God,” he muttered, and swept her off her feet and into his arms. “Now if Hope will just stay asleep for a little while longer…”

Mary leaned her cheek against his shoulder as he carried her down the hall to their bedroom.

“It’s been a long time,” she said softly, as he laid her down on their bed.

“Too long,” Daniel said softly, and began unbuttoning his shirt.

The last thought in Mary’s head was a small prayer that this dream would not end.

It was three o’clock in the morning when the phone rang. Daniel jerked in his sleep and then reached for the receiver before he was fully awake, not wanting it to ring again for fear it would awaken Hope.

Mary sat straight up in bed, listening as Daniel answered.

“Hello? Mom! What’s wrong? What? Slow down…slow down…you’re not making any sense.”

Phyllis took a deep breath and then started to cry.

“Oh, Daniel…it’s gone. Everything is gone!”

“What’s gone, Mom?”

“Our home. Our car. The clothes. All of my pictures.”

Daniel swung his legs to the side of the bed.

“What are you saying?”

“The house caught on fire.” She choked on a sob. “Everything is gone.”

“Are you and Dad all right?”

“Yes, but—”

“Where are you?” he asked.

“Across the street at Bob and Julia’s. Hang on a minute, will you? Your father is trying to tell me something.”

“Yes, sure,” he said, and wiped a shaky hand across his face as he began to visualize the enormity of the loss. It was the house he’d grown up in, and there was nothing left but memories.

Mary clutched Daniel’s arm, her voice taut with anxiety. “What happened?”

“Mom and Dad’s house burned down.”

“Oh no! Are they all right?”

He nodded.

“Go get them. They belong with us.”

Daniel sighed. Hearing Mary say what he’d already contemplated was a huge relief. After what he’d witnessed earlier, he’d feared the last thing Mary would stand for was having his parents under her roof.

“Thank you,” he whispered, and then turned back to the phone. “Mom?”

“I’m here,” she said. “Mike wanted me to tell you which motel we’ll be at.”

“No motel, Mom. We want you here. As soon as I get dressed, I’m coming after you and Dad.”

Phyllis hesitated. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to face her daughter-in-law under such intimate circumstances.

“Are you sure?” she finally asked. “I mean, your wife might not—”

“Her name is Mary, Mom, and it was her idea first. Not mine. I’ll see you soon.”

Phyllis heard him disconnect and then replaced the receiver. She knew Daniel. When he set his mind to something, there was no turning him back. She looked at her husband.

“Mike, go wash your face. Daniel is coming to get us.”

Mary dashed into the spare bedroom as Daniel pulled out of the driveway. It would take him about twenty minutes to get across town to where his parents lived, then another twenty or so to get back. It would give her just enough time to put clean sheets on the spare bed and find some fresh clothing for Phyllis and Mike to put on. Her hands were shaking as she began her duties, trying to imagine the heartbreak of losing forty years of accumulated possessions and memorabilia.

Then suddenly she froze. She still had all the worldly possessions. It was her loved ones that were really gone.

In that moment, she felt herself trying to surface from the indulgence of this fantasy. Before it could happen, Hope let out a wail and Mary began resubmerging, pushing away the fear and returning to the dream—because it was safer—and because it was where she wanted to be.

She blinked, then looked up. The bedroom was still the same and Daniel’s winter clothes were still hanging in the extra closet. With a sigh of relief, she pulled the last pillow slip onto the pillow and dropped it in place, making sure that the bed was turned back in an inviting manner, then bolted out of the room toward the nursery.

“Mommy’s coming, honey. Don’t cry.”

She’d taken a coffee cake out of the freezer and had it thawing on the cabinet. Hope had been changed and fed and Mary was in the act of laying out a clean nightgown and pajamas when she heard Daniel’s car in the driveway. With a last look at the bedroom to assure herself that everything was in place, she hurried to the front door. They were just coming up the steps as she opened the door to greet them.

“Phyllis…Mike…thank goodness you’re both all right.”

She took Phyllis by the hand and pulled her into the house. They were red-eyed and soot-stained and the smell of smoke was all about them.

“I’m so sorry,” she said softly, then gave Phyllis a quick hug before moving on to Daniel’s father. “Mike, tell me you’re both okay?”

“As good as could be expected, I guess.”

Mary nodded then her gaze moved to Daniel, as if seeking his approval.

“I’ve given your father a pair of your clean pajamas and you two can sort through other clothes later.” Then she turned to Daniel’s mother. “Phyllis, you’ll find a clean nightgown at the foot of your bed beside Mike’s pajamas. There are clean towels in the bathroom as well as shampoo and a hair dryer. Please use anything you need. When you’ve both had a chance to clean up, come to the kitchen. I’ve made some hot chocolate and there’s coffee cake to go with it.”

Mike O’Rourke seemed to go limp with relief, as if he’d been holding himself together by sheer will alone.

“Thank you, dear. We appreciate you and Daniel having us here and we’ll try not to be a bother.”

“Family is never a bother,” Mary said.

Guilt rode hard on Phyllis’s conscience as she let Mike lead her down the hall toward the guest room. She paused in the hallway and looked back. Daniel was standing in the shadows with his arms around his wife, holding on to her as if his life depended upon it—and she was holding him back—her head buried on his chest, her hands fisted in the fabric of his jacket. Quickly, she turned away, unwilling to admit that the fresh set of tears in her eyes were because of them, and not the loss of her home.

“Come on, Phyllis,” Mike said. “You shower first.”

She took a deep breath and lifted her chin as she walked into the room, quietly closing the door behind her.

Daniel gave Mary a swift kiss and then followed her into the kitchen. It was warm and comforting and smelled of chocolate and cinnamon. He took one look at the table set for four and hugged her again.

“You are a saint,” he said quietly.

“No, Daniel. Just a woman fighting for a place in your world.”

“You are my world, Mary Faith. You and Hope matter more to me than anyone or anything else.”

She pulled back and looked at him then, her shy smile almost childlike.

“I know that…at least…I know that now. I’m sorry I doubted you.”

“Forgiven,” he muttered, and slanted a hard kiss across her mouth before he turned her loose. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I couldn’t find the marshmallows for the hot chocolate. Do you know where they are?”

“Nope, but I can look.”

“Thanks,” she said, then fluttered nervously toward the cabinet. “I just want this to be nice for them.”

He frowned. “I don’t know that they actually deserve this, but I appreciate it, just the same.”

She turned, her hands clutched against her middle.

“Daniel, please. Don’t say anything to them about…well, you know. They’ve suffered a traumatic loss. Let bygones be bygones, all right?”

“Fine, but I’d better not hear one critical remark out of my mother’s mouth or they’ll be looking for that motel after all.”

She smiled. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he muttered.

“The marshmallows, please?”

“Oh. Yeah. Right.”

About a half hour later, Mike and Phyllis emerged from the bedroom, freshly showered and shampooed and wearing clean clothes. Daniel was waiting in the living room, watching Mary sleeping on the sofa. When he heard the door open, he arose, then pulled the afghan a little higher over her shoulder before he went to meet them.

“Where’s Mary?” Mike asked.

Daniel pointed toward the sofa. “Asleep. She doesn’t get much rest these days and Hope’s already had her up once tonight. I thought it best to let her sleep.”

Phyllis peered over the sofa and stared at the thin, pale face of the woman who’d married her son. Even from here, she could see dark circles of fatigue beneath her eyes and felt a quick spurt of remorse. She remembered how hard it had been to be a mother for the first time and how exhausted she’d been. Fortunately, she’d had her mother and older sister nearby who’d been of tremendous help and support. She looked at Mary again. Mary had no one.

As Daniel and Mike moved into the kitchen, she turned away and followed them, well aware that she had Mary to thank for her present safety and comfort.

“What’s all this?” Phyllis asked, as she entered the kitchen.

Daniel took the pot of hot chocolate from the stove where Mary had been keeping it warm and began to pour it into their mugs.

“Cinnamon coffee cake, freshly warmed in the oven, and hot chocolate,” he said, as the warm, sweet scent filled the room. “Mom, will you cut the cake?”

Reluctantly, Phyllis picked up the knife and thrust it through the cake. It parted tenderly beneath the blade in perfect slices.

“It looks wonderful,” Mike said.

Daniel beamed. “It tastes even better. Mary’s a really good cook.”

Phyllis served up the slices, then sat down in her chair. The horror of what they’d just endured had been lessened by the warmth and comfort of this home. Up until she’d walked into the kitchen, she hadn’t been able to get the smell of burning wood and smoke from her nostrils. Now all she could smell was hot chocolate and cinnamon. She was clean and safe and everything they’d lost could be replaced.

Then she looked at Daniel, watching the animation on his face as he talked to Mike about his plans for the future and knew there was one thing she’d almost lost that was irreplaceable—her relationship with their son.

“How’s the cake, Mom?”

Phyllis blinked, then made herself smile and take a bite.

“Very good,” she said, although the guilt she was feeling threatened to choke her. “I wonder if this is from a mix.”

“Nope. It’s out of one of her old cookbooks. She collects them, you know. One of her favorite things to do is to prowl antique stores for cookbooks, although she hasn’t had a chance to do that for quite some time now. Hope is a pretty demanding little squirt.”

Mike chuckled. “Then she takes after you, boy. I well remember how many nights you kept your mother and I up. You had your days and nights turned around for a good four months. I used to tease Phyllis about finding a way to return the merchandise.”

Daniel laughed. “Yes, that’s the thing about having a family. You’d better be darn ready to give up every indulgence you once enjoyed.”

“It’s fine if you’ve had a hand in the decision to be a parent,” Phyllis said.

The smile froze on Daniel’s face.

“Mother, I’m going to chalk that up to the stress you were under tonight. But I better not ever hear you say another denigrating word to Mary or about her…do you understand?”

Phyllis paled. “I didn’t—”

“Yes, you did,” Daniel said. “And Mary didn’t tell me. I heard you myself, remember?” Then he looked at both of his parents and sighed. “She didn’t get pregnant…we did. And I couldn’t have been happier. I have been in love with Mary almost from the first date. I’d already put a down payment on an engagement ring when she told me she was pregnant. It didn’t change anything I’d planned except the date.”

Phyllis looked stunned. “But you never said…I didn’t know that—”

“Mom…I was twenty-six and long past telling you everything that went on in my life. The fact that I introduced you to Mary on our second date should have been warning enough that I was serious. How many other girls had I brought home before her?”

Phyllis frowned. “None.”

“I rest my case.”

She looked at Mike and then sighed. “And I apologize. I was wrong.”

“Fine…but I’m not the one who deserves the apology, am I?”

Phyllis stifled a groan. The last thing she wanted to do was face her daughter-in-law with this guilt. But she’d already lost a lot this night. She didn’t want to lose what was left of her family as well.

“I’ll tend to it tomorrow.”

Daniel gave her a cool look. “And I hope with more meaning than you just implied.”

Phyllis had the good grace to blush.

Chapter 3

Mary woke up on the sofa with the first rays of morning sun shining in her eyes. The last thing she remembered was sitting beside Daniel and—

Oh lord! Mike and Phyllis were here!

She sat up with a jerk and then jumped to her feet. What must they think?

When she dashed into the kitchen and found it neat and gleaming, she groaned. Another mark against her. Phyllis would find a way to insinuate how Daniel had to do all the work. She pivoted quickly and started down the hall, expecting the doors to open and see accusing fingers pointed in her direction. Instead, she was met with the soft, but familiar, sounds of muted snores from the spare bedroom.

Thankful that her in-laws were still asleep, she peeked into her bedroom. Their bed was empty and she could hear the shower running. Daniel was up and getting ready for work. His diligence at the law office was starting to pay off and she knew he didn’t want to give anyone an excuse to deny him a future partnership.

With a small sigh of relief, she moved across the hall to the nursery and pushed the door inward. Hope was lying on her back, waving her arms at the Mother Goose mobile hanging over her crib.

“Good morning, pretty girl,” Mary whispered.

The baby turned toward the sound of her mother’s voice and started to squeal.

Mary laughed as she picked Hope up and then laid her down on the changing table.

“A dry diaper and a warm bottle, in that order, little lady. How does that sound?”

Hope squinched her face into a tiny grimace and squeaked in disapproval when Mary began unsnapping the legs on her one-piece pajamas.

“Oh, it can’t be all that bad,” Mary crooned, as she deftly cleaned the baby and fastened a new diaper in place. “I’ll hurry. I promise. Okay?”

A couple of snaps later and Hope was good to go. Mary picked her up, cradling her against her chest as she walked out the door, cherishing the feel of baby curls under her chin as well as the satin-smooth texture of Hope’s delicate skin.

She met Daniel in the hall, and to her surprise, he was wearing sweats and a T-shirt, rather than his usual suit.

“Daniel, you’re going to be late.”

“I’m staying home today. I’ve already called in.”

Mary felt a small surge of panic. “Is that okay?”

He knew her fear stemmed from more than worry about his job, but there was nothing much he could do other than what he’d already done.

“It’s more than okay,” he said. “They were very sympathetic to what happened to Mom and Dad. I had no pending court cases and the paralegal is still gathering research for that brief that’s due next week, so my work will not suffer.” Then he wrapped his arms around Mary and Hope and gave both of them a quick kiss. “Besides, I’d rather spend the day with my two best girls than go sift through the constant mess of our judicial system.”

Mary nodded, but the frown on her face stayed in place as they walked toward the kitchen.

“You shouldn’t have let me sleep last night. What must your parents have thought?”

“That you were exhausted and that you make damned good coffee cake.”

She paused. “Really?”

He smiled and took Hope out of her arms. “Yes, really. Now go heat up Miss Thing’s bottle. I’ll feed her while you make us some coffee, okay?”

Mary’s heart swelled with love as she handed the baby to Daniel. Their dark hair and stubborn chins were so identical it was almost comical.

“Okay, and I think I should start breakfast. Your parents probably have a lot to deal with today and won’t want to be delayed.”

“Honey…take it easy,” he said. “My parents are still asleep and there are no deadlines to be met. Not in this house. Not today.”

She smiled and nodded, then took a bottle out of the refrigerator and began heating it as Daniel sat down in the window seat. Bracing his long legs against the other side of the window frame, he laid the baby down in his lap. When she stretched and then began kicking him in the stomach, he laughed. It occurred to him as he watched Mary busying herself at the sink that he was quite possibly the luckiest man alive. He thought back to yesterday—to all the turmoil that had been in their lives and how close he’d come to killing himself and Hope. If Mary hadn’t thrown herself on the hood of the car, he wouldn’t have stopped, and if he hadn’t stopped, he would have backed right into the speeding driver and the police cruiser that was in pursuit. As it was, two men had died horrible deaths, and they’d been spared.

It was still difficult for him to accept that his mother had been so mean to Mary. What was even worse was that Mary had been afraid to tell him. He tickled the little roll of fat under Hope’s baby chin and then looked up at his wife.

“Mary?”

The tremor in Daniel’s voice made Mary turn abruptly, thinking something was wrong with Hope. But the baby was momentarily pacified by the sunlight coming through the trees outside the window.

“What?”

“I love you.”

Emotion hit her like a fist to the gut.

“Oh, Daniel…I love you, too.”

“You have nothing to worry about. Do you understand?”

Mary sighed, unaware that her shoulders slumped slightly in relief. But Daniel saw it and knew that his decision to stay home today as a buffer between his mother and his wife had been wise.

“Yes, I understand,” Mary said, then lifted Hope’s bottle out of the water and dried it off before testing a few drops on her wrist. “It’s ready,” she said, and brought it to him.

Daniel lifted his mouth for a kiss, which she happily supplied, then groaned softly when he refused to relinquish the connection.

She knew what he wanted and the thought of lying beneath his beautiful hard body made her ache. But with their unexpected houseguests just down the hall, what they both wanted was definitely not going to happen. Finally, it was Mary who pulled back.

“Daniel…we can’t,” she whispered. “Your parents…”

He frowned as he took the bottle and poked it into Hope’s eager little mouth.

“I know. I know,” he muttered. “But this won’t be forever and when they’re gone…”

She hugged the thought to herself as she turned back to the task at hand, which would be making breakfast.

“What sounds good this morning?” she asked.

“You,” Daniel muttered. “But I’ll settle for bacon and eggs.”

She grinned and combed her fingers through his hair in a gentle, loving manner.

“And biscuits?”

He rolled his eyes in pretend passion. “Oh yeah.” Then he added. “Better double the recipe. They’re Dad’s favorite, too.”

“What about your mother?” she asked. “If she doesn’t care for them I can make her some—”

He frowned at the nervousness once again in her voice.

“Mary Faith, you do not worry about what my mother likes or dislikes again, do you hear me?”

“Yes, but—”

“No buts, sweetheart. She will be thankful for whatever we serve and you will not suffer her disdain or criticisms again.”

Mary was too moved to answer. Instead, she took a large bowl from the cabinet and began assembling the ingredients for the biscuits. By the time Mike and Phyllis were up, she was dishing up the scrambled eggs and taking the biscuits from the oven.

“Man, oh, man,” Mike said, as he entered the kitchen. “A guy could get used to waking up to food like this.”

Daniel eyed the slight shock in his mother’s eyes and took no small amount of satisfaction in answering.

“I already have,” Daniel said. “Mary is a super cook.” Then he handed the baby to his mother. “Morning, Mom. Here, say hi to your granddaughter and see if you can get a burp out of her while I help Mary get the food to the table.”

Phyllis was torn between jealousy and devotion. It had been years since she’d gone out of her way to fix breakfasts like this, and the comment Mike had made went straight to her conscience. But the smiles of delight on her granddaughter’s face rechanneled her focus. She settled the baby on her shoulder and began patting her back as she took a seat at the breakfast table. As she sat, she watched and she listened, and not for the first time since their arrival, began to wonder if she could have been wrong.

“Mary.”

Mary jumped at the sound of her mother-in-law’s voice, then turned abruptly, almost dropping the load of clean bath towels she was carrying.

“Yes?”

Phyllis sighed. The anxious expression in Mary’s dark eyes was nobody’s fault but her own. She reached for the towels.

“Let me help do that.”

“No, please,” Mary said. “It’s just a load of laundry. I can do it.”

Phyllis frowned. “I’m well aware that you’re capable, girl, but it’s your third load, and frankly, I haven’t seen you sit down since breakfast. Besides that, isn’t your hand still sore?”

Mary glanced down at the bandage on the finger she’d cut yesterday.

“Well, yes, but it’s healing.”

Phyllis took the clean laundry from Mary’s arms.

“We’ll fold them on your bed, okay?”

Reluctantly, Mary followed her into the bedroom. When Phyllis dumped the towels on the bed, Mary took a deep breath and moved to the opposite side. For a few minutes, they worked in silence. It wasn’t until the last washcloth had been folded that Phyllis laid it aside and then sat.

“Mary, there’s something I want to say to you.”

Mary flinched. The last thing she wanted was another confrontation, but with Daniel and his father gone to the insurance agency, she was all alone. She gathered up the stack of clean towels and carried them into the bathroom, then put them away. When she turned around, Phyllis was standing there with the hand towels and washcloths.

“Thank you,” Mary said, and put them into the linen cabinet beside the towels.

Phyllis nodded. “You’re very neat,” she said, eyeing the even rows of linens inside the cabinet.

“Thank you. I suppose it comes from living in foster homes.”

“What do you mean?”

Mary shrugged. “Well, I never knew how long I would be allowed to stay, so always having my things neatly together made it simpler to pack when social services moved me.”

Phyllis frowned. “You never knew your parents, did you?”

“I remember my mother,” Mary said. “At least, I think I do. But I was so small when they took me away.” Then she turned, looking Phyllis square in the face. “She didn’t give me away, you know. She died of cancer.”

Phyllis sighed. “You’ve had a difficult life, haven’t you?”

“From your standpoint, I suppose so. But I never knew anything else.” Then her expression softened. “But now I have Daniel and Hope. They…and you and Mike…are my family now.” Then she took a deep breath, needing to get the rest of this said before she chickened out. “I know you and Mike wanted better for Daniel. But I love him. So much. And I would never do anything to hurt him or make trouble for him. He and Hope are my life.”

Phyllis felt like a heel. “Yes, I can see that,” she said. “I’ve not been fair to you and I’m sorry.” Then she turned away and walked back into the bedroom.

Mary hurried after her. “It’s okay,” she said. “Really.”

Phyllis turned. “No, dear, it’s not okay. I’ve been horrible to you, but given time, I will make it right. I hope you forgive me?”

Mary’s eyes welled. “Oh, Phyllis, thank you,” she cried, and impulsively threw her arms around her mother-in-law’s neck.

Phyllis hesitated briefly, then returned the embrace.

“It’s me who should be thanking you,” she said softly. “You have a generous heart, my dear. Daniel and Hope are lucky to have you.”

Lucky to have you…lucky to have you…lucky…

A car horn blared, followed by a burst of angry curses and then the squealing of tires on pavement.

Mary jerked.

Reality and fantasy were beginning to separate within her mind and all she could think was not yet. Not yet. But no matter how desperately she tried, she couldn’t hold on to the dream. Her head was spinning, her legs weak at the knees.

“Daniel,” she moaned.

But there was no answer, only the smell of old wood and dust. In that instant, she knew it was gone. She opened her eyes.

The antique shop. She was still standing in the antique shop and Mike and Phyllis O’Rourke hadn’t spoken to her since the day of the funeral six years ago.

In that moment, what had been left of her spirit died, too. There was nothing in her life but an emptiness that all the jobs and all the busy work would never fill. The only people who’d ever loved her were dead and she wanted to be with them.

With a shuddering sob, she stared down at the ring on her finger. The engraving—I promise you forever—was a joke. Hating herself and life in general, she tore it off and flung it back into the case. There was no such thing as forever.

“No more,” she muttered. “I can’t do this…I don’t want to do this. Not anymore.”

She turned, only to find the old man staring at her from the end of the counter.

“I don’t want the ring. I put it back,” she muttered, and pointed in the general direction of the case. “I have to go.” But her feet wouldn’t move. She seemed helpless beneath the compassion of his gaze. Her eyes filled with tears. “You don’t understand. They’re dead, you know. They’re all dead but me.”

Then her composure broke and she started to cry.

Love doesn’t die.

Mary stared. Although she’d heard the words, his lips had not moved. When he started toward her, shuffling his tiny little feet on the dusty, planked floor, she wanted to run, but he was blocking her only exit.

“Don’t,” she muttered, although she didn’t quite know why she said it.

He’d made no move to harm her and had yet to say a word. When he reached in his pocket, she caught herself holding her breath. But when he pulled out a neatly ironed linen handkerchief and laid it in her hands, she felt shame that she’d feared him.

“Oh God,” she moaned, and bent her head.

At the same time, she felt a hand at the crown of her head and then the old man was stroking her hair, as he might have a child. Mary shuddered as she lifted the handkerchief to her face and wiped away tears. What had she been thinking, behaving this way in front of a stranger? When she looked up, he was gone. The only proof she had that he’d been there was the handkerchief she was holding.

“Lord,” she muttered. “I probably embarrassed him horribly.”

She laid the handkerchief aside and started to weave her way through the narrow aisle, anxious to be away from this place. She’d been crazy to come in here to begin with. All it had done was remind her of what she’d lost. She wouldn’t let herself think about why the dream had been different this time, because it didn’t really matter. Her reality was a living hell and it hadn’t changed.

The front door was open and she headed for it like a moth to a flame.

Out.

She needed out.

Away from the memories.

Away from the pain.

She fixed her gaze on the rug of sunlight spreading across the threshold and told herself that if she didn’t breathe until she passed it, all the pain would go away. It wasn’t the first time she’d played such a mind game with herself, but she was brought up short from escaping when a curly-haired little girl burst into the building.

“Mommy! Mommy!”

The brutality of the moment stopped Mary short. In her mind, it was but another bit of proof as to how perfectly cruel life could be. If Hope hadn’t died—

“Mommy! Where are you?” the little girl cried.

Mary swallowed past the knot of misery in her throat and stepped out of the shadows and into the light. No matter how much it would hurt her, the child was obviously lost and afraid. But the words never came out of her mouth. When the child saw her move, the frown on her face turned to joy.

“Mommy! Mommy! We’re ready to go! Daddy’s going to buy us all ice cream and I want banilla with starberry sprinkles.”

Shock spread across Mary’s face as she stared at the approaching child in disbelief. Then over the child’s shoulder, she saw the sunlight on the floor suddenly shrink as a man appeared in the doorway. At first, she saw nothing but a big, dark silhouette, but then he spoke and the sound of his voice grabbed her heart.

“There you are,” he chided, and took the little girl by the hand before she could go any farther.

Mary struggled to take a breath. Damn you, God…you took my reasons for living and left me behind. Now you want my sanity, too?

The man looked up at Mary and grinned.

“Hey, honey. Did you find anything you can’t live without?”

Mary moaned and took a short step backward. Why was this happening? That had always been a running joke between herself and Daniel when they used to go antiquing, but this wasn’t funny.

Then the man moved past the doorway and further into the store. When Mary saw his face she started to shake. Black hair, blue eyes and that square jaw with a slight dimple in his chin. Daniel? Oh God…Daniel.

“Mary…darling…are you all right? You look a little pale.”

He reached for her, steadying her with a hand to the shoulder, then he cupped her face.

She looked up in horror. She could feel his fingers on her skin. This wasn’t possible. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. PTSD. That’s what it was. Post-traumatic stress disorder, brought on by her foray into antiques. When she opened her eyes, he would be gone. All of this would be gone. But when she looked he was still there, leaning closer now, and she could feel his breath on her face.

“Daniel?”

He smiled. “Definitely not the Easter Bunny,” he teased.

She fainted in his arms.

“Mary…darling…can you hear me?”

Mary moaned. “Make it go away,” she muttered.

Daniel frowned. “Make what go away?”

“The dreams. Make them all go away.”

He shook his head slightly, ignoring her rambling remarks as he continued to dab her forehead and cheeks with a dampened handkerchief. Before he could answer her, Hope slid between them and put a hand on her father’s arm.

“Daddy, what’s the matter with Mommy?”

“I think maybe she just got too hot.”

His daughter’s voice trembled slightly. “Is she going to die?”

“No, baby…oh no! Mommy’s fine. See! She’s waking up right now.”

Mary found herself focusing on the sound of their voices and wondered when she looked, which dream she would be in—the one from her past or the one from the future. The urge to scream was uppermost in her mind, but what was happening was inevitable. She was losing her mind. It was the only explanation for the fact that she kept slipping in and out of a fantasy. She shouldn’t be surprised that it was finally happening. She was having a nervous breakdown. End of story. Curious as to what she’d see next, she opened her eyes.

“See,” Daniel said. “I told you she was okay.” Then his voice deepened as he caressed the side of her face. “Sweetheart…how do you feel?”

“Crazy,” she muttered. “How about you?”

He chuckled and then winked at Hope. “I think the worst is over. At least your mother’s sense of humor is firmly in place.”

“Help me up,” Mary muttered.

Daniel stood, then put his hands beneath her arms and pulled her upright.

“Easy,” he warned. “You might still be dizzy.”

Mary swayed momentarily, then slowly gained her equilibrium.

“Okay?” he asked.

She took a deep breath and then nodded.

“Mommy?”

Mary’s stomach knotted as she looked down at the little girl.

“I don’t have to get banilla ice cream today,” Hope said.

Mary frowned, then remembered something being said about vanilla ice cream with strawberry sprinkles.

“That’s very sweet of you, but I’m all right.”

“Oh goody,” Hope cried. “Ice cream will make you feel better, too.”

Daniel slid an arm around Mary’s waist and turned her toward the door.

“Hope, can you carry Mommy’s purse for her, please?”

“Yes. I always carry it when Mommy’s arms are full of groceries,” she said, then picked up the shoulder bag Mary had dropped and slung it across her shoulder.

Mary fought the urge to laugh, but she was afraid if she started, she wouldn’t be able to stop. Maybe she should tell someone what was happening. Then she discarded the thought. After all, who would believe her?

As they started out the door, she paused and looked back, but the old man was nowhere in sight. That figured. She’d probably imagined him, too.

When the sunlight hit her face, she squinted and ducked her head against the glare. And because she did, she missed the fact that she was being led to a waiting car. When they paused, she looked up, her eyes widening at the big, white Cadillac Daniel was unlocking.

“I walked here,” she muttered.

Daniel frowned and ran his hand through her hair.

“What are you doing?” Mary asked.

“I was checking for a bump. You’re not making a lot of sense right now and might have a slight concussion. I thought I caught you before you hit the floor, but I could be wrong.”

“I didn’t hit my head,” she said. “I just lost my mind.”

Hope giggled. “Mommy’s funny.”

Mary let herself be seated in the car and then watched as Daniel put Hope in the back seat. Without thinking, Mary turned around, got up on her knees and buckled the little girl into her booster seat. It wasn’t until she had turned around and was reaching for her own seat belt that she realized what she’d done. It had been so natural. Something she’d done without thinking. Something she’d done a thousand times before. She pulled the sun visor down and then looked at herself in the attached mirror. Ignoring her pallor, she stared, trying to find the madness in the woman looking back. But all she could see was a slight expression of shock.

Then her gaze slid past her own reflection to the child behind her as Daniel got into the car. He reached for Mary’s hand and gave her fingers a slight squeeze.

“Honey…are you sure you’re up for this ice cream stop?”

“I have no idea, but we’ll soon find out.”

“It’s not that important,” Daniel said. “Hope won’t mind.”

“But I will,” Mary muttered. “In fact, I’d say we have to go. I can’t wait to see what happens next.”

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