Chapter Two

Felicity stared down at Jack. Why did he have to look like one of hers? He was slimmer—her toddlers had been round, sturdy, and laughing. But still, the resemblance between this little boy and Matt—Honor and Nick—was undeniable. And it knocked the air from her lungs. The longer she looked at the boy, the harder it was to keep it together.

“Matt,” she whispered. Saying his name stirred up emotions she’d spent the better part of the last two years locking away until she was stronger. Which was not now. “Fight. Don’t you dare leave him.” Or us. Not again.

Matt was wrong. He’d be fine, he had to be. Because, if he wasn’t… He was wrong.

Until then, she’d stay here with Jack. He shouldn’t wake up alone. And she shouldn’t cry anymore. Right. She sniffed, knowing it was a losing battle. Still, baby Jack shouldn’t wake up to tears.

Poor little guy.

After a brief hesitation, she sat on the bedside, wincing as the mattress shifted beneath him. Every muscle tightened, not wanting to hurt him. He might be unconscious, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t feel. But, dammit, she couldn’t just stand there. He looked so small. So helpless and alone. No baby should feel alone. Her fingers slid across the blanket until she reached his hand. It fit inside hers. Small. Motionless.

She knew nothing about Jack.

Did he have a middle name? A favorite toy? Or blanket? Food allergies? What words did he know? What sort of temperament did he have? He was probably walking. If he was anything like his siblings, he was running by now. Her gaze traveled over the thick white plaster cast that started right beneath his breast bone.

Something about how still he was, how pale, terrified her.

“Your little fingers are cold.” She rubbed his hand between both of hers and scooted closer, smoothing the blankets over him. “How about we get you some more blankets? Sound good?” She pressed the nurse’s button, pulling her vibrating phone from her pocket as she did so.

Her mother—known to everyone simply as Mimi—and Matt’s most devoted hate-fan. Felicity glanced at Jack, the clock on the wall, and the picture of her smiling parents on her phone in a matter of seconds.

The nurse’s voice came through the speaker. “Yes?”

“Can we get some more blankets, please?” she asked.

“Sure.” The static clicked off.

Felicity stared at the phone. She might as well answer. If she didn’t, the calls would just keep coming. And, it would be nice to have them here—with her and the kids.

“Hi, Mom,” she answered.

“So, how was it?” Her mother was all singsong enthusiasm. As much as her parents had wanted to go to Honor’s graduation, Matt tended to bring out the worst in her mother. They’d decided to celebrate with her later—so there was no chance of ruining her graduation day.

The irony wasn’t lost. “It was lovely. Honor looked gorgeous, lots of smiles and—”

“What’s wrong?” her mother’s voice sharpened. “And don’t try to hide it from me, Filly. Something’s wrong, I can hear it in your voice… Shush, Herb, I can tell when our daughter’s upset.”

Felicity smiled, imagining her father attempting to pacify her mother. “Well, a lot, actually. Nick and Honor and I are fine. But Matt was in an accident. We’re at the hospital.”

“Turn the car around, Herb. Head to the hospital.” She paused. “No, no, the kids are all fine. But they need us.”

“Thank you, Mom.” Felicity’s relief was instantaneous.

“Have you eaten?” her mother asked.

“I can’t remember.” Had the kids eaten? Tonight had been such a whirlwind of activity, the pregraduation chaos, the ceremony, this…

“Well, we’ll take care of it when we get there. Have you heard from Charity? She was flying in tonight. Never mind, we’ll call the house and see if she’s here yet. Don’t you worry about a thing.” There was another pause. “Dad says to stay positive. We love you, Filly.”

In all the chaos, she’d forgotten about Charity. Her sister had so wanted to be here for Honor’s graduation. But a storm in Chicago had grounded her flight, and Felicity hadn’t checked in to see where she was or when she might arrive.

“Love you, too.” Felicity hung up, standing when the nurse carried in a few blankets. “Thank you. His little hand feels so cold.”

“This one is fresh from the warmer.” The nurse handed her the top blanket first.

It was toasty and soft, exactly what a toddler would want to cuddle up under. She covered Jack, tucking the fabric close.

“Anything else?” the nurse asked.

“I honestly don’t know. I feel so…useless.” She shook her head. “Is there something I can do?”

The nurse smiled. “Talk to him. Use his name. Some studies say patients can hear us. I’m sure he’d like that.” She placed the rest of the blankets on the foot of the bed and left.

Does it work if the patient has no idea who is talking to them? Jack had never met her. He wouldn’t know who she was. Even if she had come up in conversation, he was too young to remember or care.

Realistically, Matt and Amber wouldn’t have mentioned her. Matt had been so consumed with Amber that everything before her sort of faded away, including his other kids. Their recitals and games, birthday parties and special events were no longer noteworthy to Matt. She’d tried to plead their case, remind him that Nick and Honor were great young people—well-liked, smart, respectful, hardworking… That they needed their father.

She drew in a deep breath, closed her eyes, and shook out her arms and hands.

Stop. Those wounds weren’t healed enough to start picking at them.

Besides, there was no point going over it again. No point in getting herself worked up. Jack was what mattered right now. She couldn’t stand seeing anyone hurting, especially a baby who had done nothing to anyone.

“Your daddy will fight for you, Jack. He loves you so much…” Her voice broke. Felicity sucked in a deep breath, choking on a mix of anger and desperate sadness. Matt owed it to Jack—to all of them—to be strong. To stay.

“In no time he’ll be right here, talking to you and holding you close.” More than anything, Jack needed someone to know he existed, someone to hold him and assure him that life was a wonderful adventure he’d share with people who loved him.

Matt was that someone.

“But, since he can’t be here right now, I will be. Okay?” What choice did she have? When Matt was better, she’d walk away. Her kids, her family, didn’t need any more emotional conflict.

“I’m Felicity, Jack,” she murmured, stroking the silky-soft golden curls at his temple. “I’m…I’m a…friend of your daddy’s.” She wiped blindly at the tears she didn’t know had started. “I’ll stay right here with you, don’t you worry.” She cradled his little hand in hers, squeezing gently—hoping he felt it. The urge to hold him close, to rock him, washed over her. But he was too fragile for that now. That stark white cast was a vivid reminder of that fact. “I’m right here.”

“Felicity?” Graham stood in the doorway, a cup of coffee in each hand.

“Oh, hey.” Out of instinct, she wiped her face, stiffened her spine, and assumed as carefree an expression as possible. Positive thoughts, right? It’s not like crying would do any good.

But something made Graham set the two coffee cups on the bed table and pull Felicity up and into an awkward hug.

Except it wasn’t all that awkward. It was warm. Strong yet gentle. It offered comfort, something she desperately needed. Something she didn’t want to admit she needed. She clung to it—to Graham. His arms tightened just enough for her to lean on him. So, she did, burying her face in his shirtfront and breathing deep. He held her up until the sting of tears and crush of panic had receded.

The instant she stepped back—cold, hard reality was waiting.

“Sorry,” she murmured, taking the coffee cup he offered her. Damn her shaking hands.

“Don’t be.” His brown gaze held only sympathy. “You don’t have to be strong for me.”

He was trying to be kind. But being strong was her only option. Though, tonight was definitely testing her. As tempting as it was to fall apart and let him hold her for a while longer, she couldn’t. She was the rock, Miss Calm, the glue, the rational one. One slip might send her crashing to the floor, and she wasn’t sure she could get back up again. Instead, she sipped the coffee, too hot to taste. “Diana okay? Nick can be a little…challenging.”

“He’s having a hell of a night. You all are.” His gaze searched hers before shifting to his coffee. “Diana is the queen of challenging. And drama. I have to remind myself how much she’s been through for someone so young. But there are times when I don’t know how to handle her.”

Felicity heard the bone-weary defeat in his voice. Graham Murphy had always been a good guy. When their families were young and their friendship was solid, he’d been one of those super hands-on dads. And Diana had adored her daddy.

Clearly, something had changed.

When Matt left and Graham’s sweet wife entered hospice care, the world had come apart. Piecing it back together was, for all of them, an ongoing process. “Parenting is exhausting, isn’t it? Parenting teens takes it to a higher level, I think. I don’t remember being a difficult teen. I’m sure I was. Aren’t all teens? It’s a requirement, isn’t it?”

Graham smiled at her. “Somehow, I don’t see you ever being difficult.”

“My parents might disagree.” But most of their trying teen stories were focused on her wild little sister, Charity, and her adrenaline-seeking brother, Zach. Felicity had never been a risk-taker or a rule breaker. And she’d never felt like she was missing out, not really. “Where is Diana?”

“She’s sleeping over at a friend’s house. She’s not a fan of hospitals, in general.”

Why would she be? She’d spent so much time here when her mother was sick. If she was in Di’s shoes, she’d do whatever she could to avoid being here.

Graham studied Jack, crossing the room to get a closer look at the toddler. He scanned the monitors. “His vitals are good. That’s something. Lots of wait and see in his future.”

The future. Right now, that was measured in minute-by-minute increments. She sipped more coffee, wishing she could absorb its heat through osmosis.

“Nick and Honor go home?” he asked.

“Just a walk. They want to stay, of course.” She moved to the other side of Jack’s bed, watching his little chest rise and fall slowly. “I can’t seem to leave the room. He’s too little to wake up alone. And he looks so much like my babies…” Could she do this? If…if Matt didn’t pull through… No. Not touching that. She changed gears quickly. “I know with work and Diana, you need sleep. If you need to go, you can.”

Graham didn’t say anything, so she looked at him. He was studying Jack. “I have a patient upstairs who will probably deliver tonight.” He ran a hand along the back of his neck. “I checked in after Diana left. Mom and Dad are fired up and ready, but first babies like to keep everyone guessing.”

Upstairs, a baby was being born. Someone’s birthday. A new family, full of hope and love and dreams. Life went on. It was an oddly stabilizing realization. Felicity smiled. “That’s really wonderful news.”

Graham looked at her then, a slow smile creasing the corners of his brown eyes. He’d always had a nice grin. That hadn’t changed.

She pulled one of the two chairs closer to Jack’s bed and sat. “We could all use some good news.”

“Mrs. Buchanan? I’m Dr. Sayeed.” Dr Sayeed stepped inside Jack’s room. “Graham.” He glanced at Jack.

“Sam.” Graham’s tone was stiff, drawing her full attention.

“I was Matt’s surgeon.” Dr. Sayeed spoke calmly. And it rattled her nerves. “We knew there were some internal injuries, but they were more extensive than anticipated.”

Graham’s jaw muscle flexed, and his brown eyes locked with hers.

Matt had known. It took effort to breathe. To stand.

Dr. Sayeed looked between her and Graham, prompting Graham to move to her side before he went on. “I’m afraid I have bad news…”

…

Charity Otto stood in the doorway of her childhood home, confused by the lack of people, music, and partying. Yes, Pecan Valley wasn’t a social mecca, but it was barely eleven. And it was Honor’s big night—worthy of celebrating. Charity had plans to make the night unforgettable. These plans included the setting off of illegal fireworks, waking the neighbors with obnoxious party blowers and air horns, and—if her parents and sister didn’t freak out too much—providing the graduates bottles of celebratory champagne.

“Hello?” she called out. “Family of mine?”

She tugged her large wheeled suitcase into the foyer, put her brown paper bag of contraband on the floor, and closed the front door behind her.

“Felicity?” she yelled, flipping on the lights.

The door hadn’t been locked, so someone had to be home.

Or not.

Pecan Valley meant community watch groups and nosy neighbors. Living in one of the biggest, oldest houses in town and being part of a family that had helped settle this region of the Texas Hill Country meant their family was more closely monitored. It was one of the reasons Charity had left town the day after her high school graduation. She wasn’t going to live under a microscope. She was going to live.

“Nick? Honor?” She flipped on more lights. “Wowsers, Filly, good job.” She stood, appreciating the remodeled kitchen.

Dad would never have allowed the changes made to his family home. But it wasn’t his home anymore. After Felicity’s divorce, Mom had convinced him that Felicity and the kids needed a place to start over. The fact that she’d never been a fan of the big dark house might have helped as well. Once Mom had found the perfect fishing cabin, perched right along the lake, Dad had handed over the keys without blinking an eye.

And Felicity had worked her magic, renovating the hundred-plus-year-old home from the roof to the floors. Lighter, airier, less cluttered…it looked great—a real, livable showplace. The family pictures over the thick wooden mantle were mostly the same, with the addition of Nick and Honor’s most recent school pictures.

Charity lingered, stunned by how grown-up they both looked.

“Oh, Felicity, you’re gonna have more heartache over him,” she murmured, picking up her nephew’s picture. He looked just like her brother-in-law at fifteen. Matt had been around before Charity was in her first training bra or thinking of boys as anything other than a pain in the butt. A view Matt had only reinforced the last few years. It’d been hard watching her sister’s heart get shredded. And sad to lose a man she’d considered her brother. “Let’s hope you only look like your dad.”

She moved on to Honor—she had high hopes for Honor. The girl was a solid mix of old soul and childlike wonder, kind and smart-as-a-whip. Gone were the kooky glasses and braces. Now she was a gorgeous young woman who’d be attending college on a full academic scholarship, far away from the confines of Pecan Valley.

“Hello?” she yelled, jumping when Praline and Pecan came thundering down the stairs. The golden-striped cats wound between her legs, purring ferociously. “Hi, guys. Where are the human inhabitants?”

She shrugged out of her jacket, kicked off her heels, and flopped onto the couch—the early morning flight and hours of waiting in the airport catching up with her. “Looks like it’s just us girls.” Praline and Pecan immediately crawled into her lap, kneading and headbutting her until she had one tucked under each arm. She sighed, resting her head on the back of the couch.

Might as well enjoy the quiet. Once the family arrived, quiet would vanish and the questions would begin. How was work? Where had she been last? Had she met any interesting people? And, most importantly, how long was she staying in Pecan Valley?

“I’m not going anywhere,” she murmured, continuing to give the cats a solid rubdown. “If Filly’s okay with it, I’ll be rooming here with you guys.” The time for living out of her hard-sided suitcase had come to an end. No more stamps in her passport. No more travel or tours or adventures. “I’m a lady of leisure now, guys. Exploring all my options.” At least, that was the answer she planned on giving when people asked.

The truth? That might not go over so well. Her hands strayed to her stomach. She wouldn’t be able to hide her baby bump for much longer—which meant she needed to come to terms with the whole pregnancy thing and stop thinking about her hometown as a place to escape from. Her family was here, and since she had no idea how to raise a kid or be a responsible adult, she was going to need them.

“Who wants ice cream?” she asked the cats. “I could go for some pecan praline.” She laughed as two sets of identical copper eyes stared up at her. “Or plain old vanilla.”

She stood, pulled her phone from her pocket, and headed into the kitchen. Two messages from her mother. Nothing from Felicity. She frowned, pressed play on her mother’s first voicemail, and opened the freezer.

“Jackpot,” she said, pulling the tub of neapolitan from the shelf.

“Hi, Charity, it’s your mother.” Her mother’s voice filled the kitchen.

“Hi, Mom. I know it’s you.” She smiled as Pecan jumped onto the counter.

“Felicity told me your flight was delayed, so I thought I’d check and see if you needed your father to come and get you. How late will you be? We’re having clear skies here. Can’t wait to see you. Oh, and you’ll never guess who asked about you. Braden Martinez.” Charity spooned a large bite of ice cream into her mouth as her mother drew in a deep breath. “Braden, you know, the one you went to homecoming with. He looked so very pleased to hear you were staying for a short visit…”

“Maybe not so short,” Charity muttered, spooning in another delicious mouthful.

Pecan mewed pathetically so Charity put a dab of ice cream into a bowl and offered it to the cat. Praline stayed by her feet, wailing loudly.

“Okay, okay,” Charity said. “Guess you have the better manners, don’t you? No cats on the counter.” She gave Praline her own bowl.

“…so, let us know. And be careful, please. There was a story about a young woman being abducted from an airport. She traveled for her job, too, and no one realized she was missing for weeks because…”

Charity rolled her eyes. “I’m here, Mom. Where are you?”

The message ended.

“It’s so quiet,” she said to the cats. “My ears are ringing. Are yours?” She pressed play on the next voicemail.

“Hi, Charity, it’s your mother. You’re probably on the airplane now, but please call when you land. There’s been an…incident. We’re all at the hospital. Now’s not the time for details. Oh… Please call me. Love you, Charity. So so much.” And then the message ended.

Charity stopped eating ice cream. Her mother was never—ever—short-winded. So that was the first red flag. The second, her mother lived for spilling details. Not a one. But the last flag, the big one: they were all at the hospital. Something bad had happened.

In five minutes, she was on the road to the hospital, puzzling over possibilities.

It wouldn’t be Dad. Mom wouldn’t have been able to call her if it were—it would have been Felicity on the phone.

Could it be Grams? Was her great-grandmother back from her widows’ group cruise down the Rhine? Again, Mom seemed too calm for that to be the case.

So, who?

She didn’t want to think about the kids. But it was graduation night. Accidents happened.

I’m such an idiot. She thought about the bottle of champagne sitting on the floor in the brown paper bag. She was trying to be the cool aunt. An idiot.

The roads were quiet. No traffic. She sat at the red light, her fingers tapping in irritation. Did she really have to sit here? No one was coming. No one. At all.

She put her foot on the accelerator and rolled through the intersection.

Red and blue lights came to life, the siren scaring her so much that she jerked her rental car and bounced off the curb.

“Dammit!” She hung her head, waiting. And still, the knock on her driver’s window made her jump.

She rolled down the window.

“Evening,” the officer said. “In a hurry?”

She nodded, trying to sound calm. “I’m headed to the hospital.”

“Emergency?” he asked.

She nodded, glancing up at the man shining a flashlight on her. Beyond a large, dark shape and a glare in her eyes, she couldn’t see much. “According to my mom, yes. I just flew in from Chicago.”

“Wait. Charity? Charity Otto?”

She held her hand up, trying to see. “Yes?”

“Well, hell, Charity, let’s get you to the hospital.”