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She had a gift for making everyone feel welcome. She greeted people with genuine pleasure, remembered to ask after their families, made them feel important. And as far as service went, she kept the store well-stocked and paid attention to her customers' preferences and requests. Not only that, the place was clean, bright and appealing, with her regularly changing decorations. Sarah didn't have access to any figures, but she guessed that the grocery was doing double the business it had under the previous owners.

She'd said all this to Jeb, who had silently listened, absorbing everything, asking her question after question, most of which she couldn't answer. In each one, she heard his anxiety and his pain—and his longing. Before he hung up, he quietly thanked her, and ended the conversation by making her promise to call him if she learned that Maddy needed anything. Anything at all.

Sarah had to bite her tongue to keep from telling him that what Maddy and her child really needed was someone to love them.

Joshua had been adamant that Jeb should marry Maddy. His insistence had caused a strain between father and son. Despite her father's strong feelings, Sarah disagreed. She'd married Willie for all the wrong reasons and didn't want to see her brother repeat her mistake. If he did marry Maddy, he should do it only because he loved her and wanted to change his life, make her part of it. Otherwise, he should meet his financial obligations and play whatever role Maddy requested in her child's upbringing.

Sarah had to wonder whether Jeb was even capable of admitting he needed or wanted anyone. He'd spent years pushing people away, becoming more and more solitary.

Distracted by her thoughts, Sarah didn't see anyone climb out of the truck. It
had
to be Jeb, though. When he ventured into town, he almost always came to see her first. Not this time. If he hadn't come to her place, then Sarah knew he'd gone over to Maddy's.

Those two. She shook her head. For some reason, her brother and Maddy couldn't manage to hold a civil conversation. Jeb didn't confide in her, but she knew from occasional remarks that every attempt he'd made to talk to Maddy since the blizzard had ended in an argument. This made no sense to Sarah; she'd never known Maddy to be anything but warm and friendly.

An hour passed, and still no Jeb. When she could bear it no longer, Sarah left the store in the hands of Jennifer, a recently hired employee, and walked over to Maddy's.

She discovered that Maddy had displayed a number of huge green shamrocks with leprechauns peeking from behind them. She'd brought in a portable tape deck and played Celtic music. A rainbow with a pot of gold was set up by the produce counter, with a free gold-covered chocolate coin for every youngster.

“Hello, Sarah,” Maddy called out as she walked into the store. Maddy's cheerfulness told Sarah she hadn't seen Jeb. “Anything I can help you with?”

Sarah shook her head. “Have you talked to Jeb lately?” She couldn't see any reason to hide the purpose of her visit.

“No.” Some of Maddy's joy seemed to evaporate at the mention of her brother.

“He's in town,” Sarah told her.

“He hasn't been here.”

Sarah hesitated, then added, “He called and asked about you last week.”

“He could have asked me directly.” The smile had vanished completely now, replaced with a look of strain.

“
Could
he ask you?” Sarah asked.

Maddy exhaled, then laughed softly. “Probably not. We don't seem to have a lot to say to one another these days.”

“He's worried about you and the baby.”

“I hope you told him I'm doing fine, and so is the baby. He's kicking quite a bit now. I dropped off a couple of books about pregnancy and birth when I delivered Jeb's groceries, but I didn't hear from him afterward. I don't think he bothered to read them.”

Sarah suspected otherwise. “My guess is he did. You're about four months pregnant?”

“Yes, the doctor set my due date for the beginning of August. I have an ultrasound scheduled next month.”

Sarah remembered how much she'd enjoyed being pregnant. Like Maddy, she was one of the lucky women who didn't experience many of the discomforts that often accompany pregnancy. Those nine months she'd carried Calla were probably the healthiest of her life.

“Do you want me to let Jeb know you're looking for him—if he does stop by?” Maddy asked.

“No, that's all right. I'll catch him later.” Sarah was about to leave, then changed her mind. “I don't mean to meddle in your relationship with Jeb, so if I'm crossing the line here, let me know.”

“All right,” Maddy agreed.

Sarah noted how stiffly Maddy held herself. “He does care for you, Maddy, and he cares about the baby. He asked me to look out for you—”

“He asked you to keep an eye on me?”

“No—not in so many words, and not in the tone you're implying. He wants what's best for you.”

Maddy averted her face. “I feel great, wonderful—tell him he doesn't need to worry.”

“I was hoping you'd tell him that yourself.”

“I will,” she promised. “If I see him.”

 

For the rest of the day, Maddy expected Jeb to walk into the grocery at any minute, ready to start another verbal confrontation. That was the way things stood between them now. They each seemed quick to find fault, to suspect the worst. She didn't
want
that kind of relationship, but she was no longer sure how to change it.

At six, she closed the store, sent the Loomis twins home, and decided to ignore her disappointment. It'd been a month since she'd last seen Jeb, and she had to admit it hurt that he'd driven all the way into town and avoided her.

She considered phoning Sarah to learn what she could, but managed to talk herself out of it. Sarah would report to Jeb that she was checking up on him. He'd resent it the same way she'd resented his inquiring about her and Dennis.

After fixing herself a fresh spinach salad, she sat down in front of the television, propped her feet up, and tuned in to a ten-year-old movie. Soon bored and restless, she wrote her mother a long letter. After that, she checked her e-mail and phoned Lindsay. Before long, she was yawning.

The knock at her door startled her. People rarely came to the house, and were even less likely to come at night. Looking through the peephole in her back door, she saw Jeb standing on the porch.

Maddy frowned, unsure what to do.

Jeb knocked again, more loudly this time.

It didn't appear that he'd be easily dissuaded, so she opened the inner door—but kept the storm door closed. Heaving a sigh, she crossed her arms, waiting for him to explain his presence.

“Hello, Maddy, sweetheart,” he said, slurring his words. He smiled as if he were the happiest man on earth.

“You're drunk!” She was outraged and half-tempted to slam the door in his face.

“Damn right I am. Good and drunk. So drunk even Buffalo Bob won't sell me any more booze.” He placed his palm against the glass door as if he needed to hold himself upright. “He took my keys away. You going to let me in?”

“Ah…”

“Come on, let me in,” he cajoled with an engaging smile. “No need to worry. I'm a happy drunk.”

“That's no reassurance of anything,” she muttered as she held open the outer door.

He staggered into the house, smelling of beer, then paused to look at her. He lifted his hand to her cheek. “You're so damn beautiful.”

She rolled her eyes. “Come in here and sit down while I make a pot of coffee.” Taking his hand, she led him into the living room.

“I don't need coffee,” he said, falling into the chair. He tried to grab her waist and pull her down to him, but she stepped aside.

“You need coffee. Don't argue with me.”

“Arguing is the last thing I have in mind,” he called after her as she hurried into the kitchen.

This was the first time in months they weren't arguing—because he was drunk. When the coffee finished brewing, she poured him a large mug. Remembering that he took it with sugar, she added an extra heaping teaspoon.

“Did you eat dinner?” she asked, and handed him the steaming mug.

He blew on it. “Yes, ma'am, did you?”

“I did.” She claimed the sofa, a safe distance from him, and gazed at him avidly. Drunk or otherwise, he looked damn wonderful. It felt so good not to argue for once, not to be so on edge with each other.

“Stand up,” he ordered suddenly, putting his cup down on the nearby table and sloshing a little coffee.

“Stand up?” she repeated.

“Please.”

Although the request made no sense, she did as he asked.

“I'm trying to see if you look pregnant yet,” he said, staring at her from various angles. “You don't.” He sounded disappointed.

“The baby's moving now,” she told him, flattening her palm against her abdomen. “All the time.”

He leaned forward expectantly. “You can feel him…or her?”

Maddy nodded. “It's the most incredible sensation. Kind of a fluttering. I knew it had to be my baby, and on my last doctor's visit, he said the timing was about right.”

Leaning back again, Jeb closed his eyes. “You feeling well?”

She nodded.

“You need anything?”

“No.”

He looked away. “I should get out of here,” he muttered.

Maddy wanted him to stay, to sleep it off. That way she'd know he was safe—and maybe they could talk in the morning.

“Earlier,” he said, sounding unlike himself, “Merrily brought in her little boy to tell Buffalo Bob good night.” He paused and exhaled sharply, as if he felt an unexpected pain. “The little boy…can't remember his name…put his arms around Bob's neck. Called him Daddy.”

Maddy had met Axel, and had only recently come to know Merrily as more than an acquaintance. There'd been some talk about the child, speculation about where he'd come from. Folks wondered where she'd been keeping him all this time. Some claimed he wasn't hers, but she certainly
acted
like his mother. Her care, her devotion to him, were unmistakable.

“I'll go now,” Jeb said, lurching to his feet.

“You can't drive,” she said. “Besides, Bob has your keys.”

“True, but…” He raised his index finger, stumbled and fell back into the chair.

“You can spend the night here.” Then, wanting to be sure he understood her offer, she added, “I have a guest room.”

It took him a long time to decide. “I should go, but you're right. Anyway, there aren't any extra beds at my dad's place.” He didn't add that he and his father had barely spoken since Joshua learned of the pregnancy. Maddy knew this from what Sarah had told her.

“Stay here, Jeb,” she said again.

“Could get a room at 3 OF A KIND.”

“That's not necessary. Come on, I'll show you where you're going to sleep,” Maddy said.

He rose awkwardly to his feet and followed her down the hallway to the bedrooms.

Maddy was halfway to the second bedroom when he stopped her, catching her hand. Surprised, she glanced up at him and instantly knew she'd made a mistake. He wanted to make love to her. A look of such undisguised longing came over him that her breath caught deep in her throat.

Slowly, as if waiting for Maddy to object, he pulled her to him. Locking his arms around her waist, he drew her close, so close she felt his whole body pressing against her. He wanted her, all right, and there was no hiding the evidence.

“Jeb…”

“Shh, let me kiss you. Be mad at me in the morning…all I need is one kiss.” Even as he spoke, he lowered his mouth to hers.

Maddy tried to avoid him, but he was too fast. His mouth covered hers and it seemed as if his lips seared her with their heat. If all he wanted was one kiss, he was obviously intent on making it memorable. Her tongue met his with soft, welcoming touches as her knees went weak.

“Jeb, no,” she whispered. “Not like this—not when you're drunk.”

“You're right,” he moaned. “I know you're right.” But still he kissed her. He pinned her hands to the wall with his own, holding her prisoner. Again and again he kissed her, each kiss hungry, hard, as if it were the last one he'd ever have.

He slid his palm beneath her sweater and closed his hand over her breast. Because of the pregnancy, her breasts were ultra-sensitive and she gave a small cry as her nipples throbbed with pain as much as pleasure.

At her cry, he jerked his head up, dragged in a deep breath.

In an effort to think straight, Maddy buried her face in his shoulder. Then kissed his throat, his jaw.

Jeb groaned.