Читать книгу Who's The Father Of Jenny's Baby? - Donna Clayton, Donna Clayton - Страница 9

Chapter Two

Home. The word should conjure up feelings of security and warmth, happiness and laughter. Togetherness. Sharing. Family. But Jenny felt none of these things. Dread sat in her stomach, heavy as a concrete block, as she contemplated going to a place she didn’t remember, living with a man who was a stranger to her.

When she exited the hospital, sunshine warmed her cheeks and she paused long enough to close her eyes for an instant and lift her face skyward. She’d only had a scant moment to enjoy the warm, sunny day before Luke urged her forward, settling his palm on the small of her back.

It was an innocent movement, she was sure. One he’d probably made hundreds of times as her husband, but the jolt that ricocheted up her spine at his touch made her eyes go wide and her knees turn weak.

“We’ve got a thirty-minute drive ahead of us,” he told her, directing her further into the parking lot.

She was relieved that she was able to keep putting one foot in front of the other in a normal stride. The heat of his hand against her back seemed hotter than the summer sun, scalding her, yet she didn’t find it uncomfortable. To the contrary, she found his touch strangely pleasing in a purely physical sense. Before she even realized it, warm tendrils curled down deep in her belly. The low curve of her back seemed like such an unlikely spot for an erogenous zone to be located.

She quickened her pace, hoping to get a step or two ahead of him, and the feel of his hand against her. The last thing she wanted was to let this stranger, no matter how good-looking he might be, see her react to him in such a blatantly physical manner. He might be her husband, but she didn’t know this man.

With just a few quick steps, she was able to put some space between them.

“Whoa,” he called out.

She stopped and turned to face him.

“You walked right past our Bronco.”

Her cheeks were warm and rosy, a leftover reaction to his touch, she knew. His brow wrinkled with a frown as he noticed, and that mortified her.

“It’s okay,” he assured her. “How could you know?”

She let the tiny, self-conscious smile tug at one comer of her mouth. However, she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt because she allowed him to believe her embarrassment was caused by having missed the car and not by the fact that her insides had nearly been melted by the mere touch of his hand. She was just relieved that her response had been, for the most part, internal, and all that had surfaced to draw his attention had been a little heated color on her face.

Luke held open the passenger door of the big, four-wheel-drive vehicle, and Jenny had to use the running board to step up into the cab. He went around to the other side and slid behind the wheel.

“It’s so strange,” she said, latching the seat belt securely around her waist. “I remember I need to wear a seat belt...but I haven’t the slightest idea what town I’m in.” She straightened. “I know that that’s a rosebush, and that’s a pine tree, but I can’t remember the name of that mountain range.” She pointed toward the horizon.

Turning the key in the ignition, Luke looked her way. “Doc didn’t offer to fill you in on that kind of stuff?”

She looked contrite. “Oh, he offered,” she said softly. “He made himself available every morning for any questions I might have.” Her gaze wandered out the window and her tone dropped to a whisper as she went on. “I was too afraid to ask.”

The Bronco sat motionless, the engine idling smoothly.

After a silent moment, Luke softly commented, “That sure doesn’t sound like the Jenny I know.”

Frustration reared up inside her. First Doc Porter had chastised her, telling her she hadn’t been the kind of person to hide from the truth. And now Luke was rebuking her, too. Something in her snapped.

“Don’t you understand?” she cried, her eyes welling with tears of defeat and confusion. “The woman you know isn’t in here.” She tapped her index finger twice against her temple. “I don’t remember her. I don’t know her. I’m not sure I even want to—”

“Jenny, stop.” He reached out toward her, his strong fingers gently encircling her wrist.

“Don’t,” she whispered pleadingly, and pulled her arm from his grasp. His touch did things to her. Made her feel a hunger that was both confusing and exciting.

Why was that? The question slipped into her consciousness before she could stop it. Why did she react so strongly to him when—

Jenny shoved the thought aside. She wasn’t ready. There were simply too many other, more fundamental, questions that needed answers. Questions like—who was Jenny Prentice? And is that woman ever coming back? And what was everyone going to do if she didn’t? Who was this man sitting next to her? What kind of marriage had they shared?

That thought brought another startling question. What was he going to expect of her as his wife?

I can’t have sex with a total stranger. A flash of panic swept through her.

The idea of sex brought another question rolling into her mind. Who had fathered the baby she carried?

At the thought of the child growing inside her, she settled her hands, one overtop the other, low on her belly. To Jenny, that last question was the most important of all.

Suddenly, honest emotion flooded from her. “I don’t understand why you’re even here,” she told him. “You should have sent someone after me. After what I’ve done to you. To our marriage.” She shook her head. “I don’t remember what we had together. I don’t have one single memory of our life. But it’s got to hurt you to think I might have slept with your brother.”

She clamped her lips shut. It hadn’t been her intention to reveal so much of the self-doubt she was feeling. Not in such an in-your-face manner, anyway. She had no idea how he might react to such candor.

Her chest seized with guilt as she saw his dark gaze cloud over with pain.

“Look,” he said, “first of all, I want you to know that I don’t believe you and Chad had an affair. I’m the father of the baby you’re carrying. I said it four days ago when you first woke up from your fall, and I’m saying it now.”

Yes, he was making the declaration. Jenny heard it plain and clear. But there was doubt in his onyx eyes—doubt she couldn’t pretend she hadn’t noticed.

“But why would Chad—”

He silenced her with an uplifted hand and a slow shake of his head. “There’s plenty of time to work it all out,” he told her. “You’re still battered and bruised. You need to take time to heal.” He put the Bronco into reverse and pulled slowly from the parking spot. “We’ll find answers to the complicated questions later. For now, let’s stick with the simple things.”

“Simple things?” she asked, wondering if there really was anything simple in this frighteningly complicated situation.

“Yeah.” He nodded, driving to the parking-lot exit and then onto the road. “You can’t get much more simple than where we are. So that’s where we’ll start. We’re in Olem, Pennsylvania. On North Street, to be exact. And that mountain range you were asking about? Those are the Pocono Mountains.” He reached toward the windshield, pointing to the northwest. “See that one? The one with the jagged top? That’s Prentice Mountain. It’s where we’re heading. That’s where we live.”

For nearly half an hour, Luke drove the curving back roads, taking every opportunity to point out to her all the interesting spots and the people on the outskirts of the town.

Olem was a small community in the summer, he’d told her. However, the ski season brought home the winter residents who loved the sport, and the already booming tourist industry was growing even more with each passing year.

He pointed out two other resorts along the road weaving toward Prentice Mountain. Jenny noticed that Luke didn’t seem threatened by the neighboring businesses, despite the fact that these other resorts must compete for his customers. The way he talked about the other owners, people who should have been his competition, as if they were his friends, made her feel light, almost buoyant. And for the first time all morning, she felt a small smile playing on her lips. Jenny didn’t understand what she was feeling, or why she was feeling it. That really didn’t matter, she decided, relaxing in her seat to enjoy the rest of this mini tour.

Jenny found herself enjoying the rich rhythm of Luke’s voice. His tone sounded mellow and serene, so very different from the angry one she remembered hearing four days earlier in the emergency room.

That was it, she realized. The fact that the harshness had disappeared from his voice had lulled her into this wonderful state of light and easy calm. Luke seemed like a completely different person now than he had four days ago.

She felt the desire to ponder this a little further, but Luke pulled off the road in front of a small farmhouse.

“Bud and Mary live here,” Luke told her. “You and I both are addicted to the fresh tomatoes Bud sells. I thought I’d buy us a few. For dinner.”

He opened his door, and instinctively, Jenny reached to open hers.

“Sit still,” he told her. “The stand’s right over there.” He pointed. “I’ll only be a minute.”

Luke went to the produce stand and Jenny heard the friendly murmur of his voice as he greeted the farmer. As if she’d heard the Bronco arrive, a woman came out of the house, wiping her hands on her apron.

“Hi, Jenny,” the woman called out across the yard to her, waving. “Glad to see you’re okay.”

Jenny’s body flushed with a wave of anxiety. She was supposed to know this lady. Tentatively, Jenny raised her hand in greeting and tried to smile.

The woman walked across the yard to the produce stand, joining Luke and Bud in conversation. Jenny frowned. It was so obvious from the pitying glances the woman kept tossing toward the Bronco that the three of them were talking about her, and that made her feel self-conscious. Like an outsider.

Didn’t they realize that they were the strangers? Not her.

She closed her eyes and sighed shakily. Who was she kidding? she silently asked herself. She was the one who had changed.

Luke pulled open the door and slipped in beside her, startling her.

“Mary’s going to bake us a lemon meringue pie,” he said, tucking a brown paper bag filled with ripe, red tomatoes in the space between the front seats. “It’s your favorite,” he went on.

She darted a quick, covert look at the couple as Luke pulled away. “What did you say to them?” she blurted, unable to hide the defensiveness she felt. “They were looking at me like I have some kind of, of terminal disease.”

“That’s silly, Jenny,” he said, gently. “Of course, they weren’t—”

“I’m not being silly!”

His jaw tensed with what she took to be irritation. Well, he’d just have to suffer through it, dam it. A little annoyance was nothing compared to the sheer torment she ran headlong into around every corner she turned.

“Look,” he said, keeping his eyes on the road ahead, “Bud and Mary are our neighbors. Our friends. They’re your friends, Jenny. They care about you. I had to tell them something.”

“So what did you say?” she rushed to asked. Not giving him an instant to respond, she went on. “‘Poor, poor Jenny. She bumped her head and poof—’” she snapped her fingers in the air “‘—life as she remembers it just disappeared.’”

She felt herself losing control. Heard the high-pitched quality of her voice as her tongue rushed ahead of logical thought. But like a fast and dangerous avalanche, her emotions seemed to take hold of her and send her, bumping and scraping, over a steep and all-consuming cliff of pure panic.

“I didn’t say anything like that,” he told her. “But, Jenny, I had to tell them about the amnesia. I had to.”

“They think I’m a freak,” she cried. “‘Take pity on the poor little idiot.’”

Jenny knew what she was saying was nonsensical. She could hear the ridiculousness of what was bubbling up from inside her. Still she was totally helpless to stop it.

“It’s not like that at all.”

He was keeping his tone gentle in an effort to calm her. But the fact that what he was really feeling was exasperation only inflamed her agitation.

“Mary had to know,” Luke went on. “Especially since I’ve asked her to come help out in the afternoons. She’ll do the cooking and cleaning until you’re feeling better.”

“I don’t want Mary to come.” Jenny’s eyes grew wider, and wilder. “I don’t want any help. I’ll be just fine on my own.”

“Jenny,” he murmured.

“I can do my own cooking,” she said, not even hearing him. “I can do my own cleaning. I don’t want anyone feeling sorry for me. I’m not helpless. And I won’t stand for being treated as if I am.”

Through the frenzied haze of her ranting, she was vaguely aware that the Bronco had turned off the main road, that the engine had been switched off. Swiftly, Luke unlatched first his seat belt, and then hers. Then he pulled her against his chest.

She didn’t fight him. She couldn’t have, even if she’d wanted to. The circle of his arms felt too much like the safe haven she desperately needed to feel grounded and sheltered. Those were the things she’d been missing since she’d awoken in this living nightmare.

“I don’t want any help,” she said against his chest, but the insistence and creeping hysteria that had been evident in her voice just moments before was all but gone.

“Shhh.” He held her tightly. “It’s all right. You’re okay.”

His heart beat against her ear, steady and strong. She inhaled deeply, slowly. He must think she’d gone mad. Crazed out of her head.

“I’m scared.” She whispered the explanation, feeling drained and exhausted.

“I know,” he told her.

Her body trembled all over, and she sat there for quite a while, pressed against the warm, solid mass of him. Even though it was the middle of summer, a bright and sunny day, she desperately needed the heat that radiated from him. It seeped into her bones, thawing the chill of fear inside her.

He didn’t smooth his hands over her face or hair. He didn’t croon soft words. He simply held her, offering her his strength.

She was actually relieved that he remained silent, and finally, she became aware of the chirping of the birds in the trees, the sound of cars passing them every now and then. And when she felt strong enough, and calm enough, she gently pushed herself away from him.

The embarrassment she felt was almost too much to bear as she looked at this stranger who was her husband. But she forced herself not to avert her eyes from his.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured.

His dark gaze was so intense it almost felt like a physical touch on her face.

“It’s okay.”

There was deep emotion in his answer, but Jenny was unable to decipher exactly what he was feeling. He was probably embarrassed for her after that god-awful tantrum she’d just thrown. And she couldn’t blame him.

“I have to insist on Mary coming to the house,” he told her, quietly, firmly. “I have work to do on the resort. We’re cutting trees for four new ski slopes that have to be ready before the first snowfall. Chad and I have to oversee the work crews. I’ll be worried if you’re alone at the house all day. You understand that, don’t you?”

She hated that he was explaining the situation to her as if she were a child. But after the way she’d just acted, how else would she expect him to treat her?

Jenny nodded silently.

“Good.” He inhaled, studying her face. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” she assured him. But not quite reassured herself, she repeated, “Better.”

He rubbed his fingers over his chin and then rested his hand on the steering wheel. “You think you feel up to taking another step forward?”

An anxious shiver coursed across her skin. “Another step?”

He shifted in his seat and looked out the windshield. “Yes,” he said. “We’re home.”

She let her gaze follow his, and there at the base of the paved road onto which Luke had turned was a big wooden sign that read Prentice Mountain Ski Resort.

Jenny steeled herself. Gripped the edge of the soft, cushioned seat with the effort of it. She wanted to be strong. Wanted to face all the questions that were waiting for her. Wanted to confront the frightening answers hiding up there on that mountain. But for the life of her, she couldn’t help but feel that Luke had just asked her to buckle herself in for another wildly careening roller-coaster ride.

The asphalt road carried them up the mountain for a couple of miles, the densely broad-leafed trees that lined it casting shadows in the late morning sun. Then the woods seemed to fall away and the ski resort stood before her.

She read the signs that directed skiers to the large parking lot to the left, and then Jenny marveled at the huge building sitting a little further up the mountain.

“Does any of this look familiar?”

Luke’s soft question drew her gaze. She silently shook her head.

“The original lodge, the portion constructed from rough logs,” he said, “was built by my dad and my grandfather. Dad and I added the stone addition about ten years ago.”

“Your father and grandfather,” she said. “Will I meet them? Are they here?”

“No,” he told her. “My grandfather died when I was just a kid. My dad passed on three years ago.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” Her attention was drawn to the beautiful lodge. “I’d like to go inside.”

But Luke turned onto a small, narrow lane marked Private Drive.

“Let’s go to the house first,” he said.

She gazed at the resort until it was out of sight, straining her mind for some glimmer of recollection, but failed. Absently, she asked, “So we don’t live in the lodge?”

Luke tossed her a smile, and a tiny lightning bolt of thrill shot straight through the anxiety she was feeling over actually facing her homecoming.

“No, we don’t,” he said. “The business takes a great deal of attention, especially during the height of the ski season. But a person’s got to have a place to get away. Even if it is just a quarter mile up the mountain.” His smile widened. “Like my dad always said, it’s the Prentice way of doing things.”

“I see.”

“I guess I should warn you,” he said. “It’s the Prentice family home. Chad lives there, too.”

She’d be living in a house with both Prentice brothers. She tried to take in the thought without allowing the idea to overwhelm her.

Jenny didn’t say a word. She was too afraid to speak. Afraid that if she opened her mouth she might burst into another fit of pure panic.

“It’s a big house,” he assured her. “You’ll have plenty of privacy.”

She didn’t care if the house was a massive medieval castle, it still wouldn’t be big enough to contain this tangled mess of a situation.

They drove in silence for the few moments it took to reach the house. And Jenny needed every single second to come to terms with the fact that she’d be seeing both of the Prentice men. Every single day.

In the span of what seemed like a short breath or two, the Bronco was parked and Luke was opening the passenger door for her. He clutched her small carryall in one hand and settled the other, in that most familiar manner, on the small of her back.

She hadn’t taken three full steps before those dark and sultry swirls began churning deep in her belly. Yet at the same time, the idea of crossing the threshold of this strange house, with all the questions hiding inside, had her heart pounding a furious beat.

She needed to be free of his touch! She needed to find some excuse not to go up those porch steps! Trepidation jumbled her thoughts beyond recognition.

Jenny stopped dead. “I can’t,” she whispered. “I’m not ready.”

Thankfully, Luke’s hand swung to his side and she was free. The heated tendrils subsided somewhat, but she still couldn’t seem to get her leaden feet to move one inch closer to the front door.

She knew there was pleading in her eyes as she looked up into his face. She wanted him to understand. She wanted him to realize how afraid she was.

“I know this isn’t easy for you,” he said. “But waiting isn’t going to make it any easier.”

Jenny blinked. She darted a quick glance at the ground, and then back up to his eyes. He was right. Excuses and postponing weren’t going to make her homecoming any easier.

Filling her lungs with a huge, steeling breath, she turned toward the house.

Luke opened the heavy oak door for her and then motioned for her to enter. With her bottom lip tucked firmly between her teeth, she went through the doorway and looked around.

Pennsylvania bluestone covered the floor. Rather than describe the area as a foyer, she would have called it a hallway that ran the length of the front of the house. A gallery, she supposed it was, with tall, narrow windows that let in lots of light. One end of the hall opened onto what looked like a library, a small, cozy room lined with bookshelves. The Queen-Anne-style table and chairs she saw peeking from the room at the opposite end told her that was a formal dining area.

“Well,” Luke said, “this is it. Home Sweet Home.”

She gazed into the living room in front of her. The lush, dove-gray carpet butting up against the bluestone lent a formal feel that Jenny wasn’t sure she liked. She stood there, listening to the quiet.

Luke’s hand on her shoulder gave her a start.

“You okay?”

It wasn’t until that moment that she noticed she’d been holding her breath, waiting. For what? she wondered.

“Fine,” she answered, distracted. The smile she offered him barely curved her lips.

What had she been waiting for? The question continued to niggle.

Had she expected the sight of the house to bring some onrush of memories? An overwhelming flash flood carrying on its swift and turbulent current years and years’ worth of mental pictures from the past?

Jenny realized she actually felt disappointed. Again, she found herself looking all around her, just listening and wondering. Hoping that she would feel some small nuance of familiarity. But she felt no recognition whatsoever. She might as well have been standing in Buckingham Palace, as foreign as this place felt. This house that was supposed to be her home.

“Give it time,” Luke said, smoothing his hand over her shoulder and down her arm to her elbow.

He must have read the disappointment on her face. Must have understood her wild, crazy expectation to miraculously regain her memory.

“This might not feel like home to you now,” he went on, “but you’ll make new memories. You’ll have new experiences. Experiences that will turn this house into your home again.”

You’ll make new memories. You’ll have new experiences. Jenny studied her husband’s face, acutely aware that he hadn’t used the word we.

He smiled then, and every dark and dire message she imagined he was sending faded into oblivion as the heat of his hand on her elbow seemed to wash across her skin to her forearm, and then her wrist, and then further, until it reached the very tips of her fingers.

This was the first time his body had ever contacted hers, flesh to flesh, skin to skin. Well, the first time in her mind, anyway. She’d thought his touch was hot when he’d placed his hand on the small of her back where the fabric of her shirt had been between them, but this...

This was fiery. Blistering.

The heat radiating from him became an element with a life of its own, flowing up over her shoulder like some flammable, intoxicating liquid and cascading sensuously down both her back and her chest.

“Do you want me to give you a grand tour?”

Surely he must see, she thought. Surely he must recognize how his touch ignited something in her. Something mysterious. Something frighteningly erotic.

Fearing she was about to burn completely to ashes, or embarrass herself beyond belief, she took a backward step. She moistened her parched lips, her mind whirling as she contemplated a response.

“If you don’t mind,” she said, surprised by how normal her voice sounded, “I’d like to wander around on my own.”

Luke nodded, but his mouth firmed into a straight line. “Whatever you wish.” He glanced down at the bag he still carried. “I’ll take your things upstairs, and then I’ll park the Bronco around back.”

His tone wasn’t quite clipped, but Jenny could tell her desire to explore the house alone had offended him.

“Well, there she is!”

She looked up and saw her brother-in-law standing by the library door. He’d obviously come from the hallway that led to the back of the house.

Before Jenny could speak, Luke said, “Chad, what are you doing here? You’re supposed to be overseeing the work crews up on the mountain.”

“Relax,” Chad told his brother, tossing out an easy smile. “You’re too focused on work. The stress alone is going to give you a heart attack.”

“If someone doesn’t focus on work, and on getting those trees cleared, the ski runs aren’t going to be ready, come winter,” Luke shot back.

Irritation emanated from Luke in palpable waves. Jenny watched his jaw tense as he stared at Chad, and she couldn’t help but notice how the annoyance he felt turned his features sharp and hawkish.

“They’ll be ready,” Chad said, seeming not the least disturbed by Luke’s anger. His gaze glittered warmly as he turned it on Jenny. “I just had to be here to welcome you home. How are feeling? You doing okay?”

Jenny was surprised. She’d been dreading seeing Chad again. She’d been confused by the fear she’d felt of him when she’d first awoken in the hospital. But there wasn’t a nuance of anxiety in her now. And he seemed so genuinely concerned about her.

“I’m—”

“How do you think she’s feeling?” Exasperation was clearly evinced by Luke’s question. “She’s scraped up and bruised. The last thing she needs is to be barraged with a bunch of questions.”

Although Chad looked wounded, there was an argument brewing in his brown eyes. “Look, Luke, I only came home to see how she was—”

“But the point is,” Luke said, “you weren’t supposed to come home at all this afternoon. Someone should be up there minding those men we hired. They’re costing us a bundle of money.”

“You know they won’t take orders from me.”

“That’s because you don’t spend enough time up there—”

“That wouldn’t make any difference,” Chad said. “They look to you, and you only.”

Her gaze bounced back and forth from one man to the other until the bickering made her mind spin.

“It wouldn’t be that way if you’d show them—”

“You should have let me go to Olem to pick up Jenny—”

“Please!” She pressed her fingers to her temples.

Silence fell around them like a heavy wool blanket, the sheer weight of it thick and awkward. She hadn’t realized how loudly she’d spoken.

A frown planted itself in her brow as she looked, first at Chad, then at Luke. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I seem to be coming down with a headache. Is there some place I could lie down?”

“Of course.”

Both men answered and simultaneously took a step toward her, then froze. The brothers stared, each refusing to back down. Jenny was afraid another shouting match was about to ensue, but then Luke acted. He reached into his pocket and lightly tossed his keys to Chad.

“Please park the Bronco in the garage,” he said, his request courteous but edged with steel. “I’ll take Jenny upstairs,. Then we can go back to work and she can rest. I’ll meet you around back at the pickup truck.”

She didn’t think she could take another round of quarreling, and her expression must have conveyed just that because her brother-in-law’s eyes softened.

“You have a good rest,” he said. “I’ll see you later on at dinner.”

Smoothing her hand wearily over her hair, she nodded at him. He left through the front door, and Jenny turned to follow Luke down the hallway to the stairs.

This sudden fatigue sapped her desire to see the house, to explore the rooms for answers to the dozens of questions that had been haunting her for days. All she wanted to do was close her eyes, and escape.

The bedroom was large and had its own sitting area with a plush and inviting couch and matching chair, a small television set, a cherry bookcase and a writing desk. The floor was covered with carpet the color of sea foam, the pale green hue lending a calm feel to the room.

“It’s lovely,” she said.

Luke set her small bag by the closet door. “No one ever complained about your taste.”

“I decorated this room?”

“Uh-huh.”

Jenny eased herself down on the very edge of the mattress, smoothing her palm over the pristine white bedspread. She glanced up at Luke and saw that he’d grown utterly still, his eyes riveted to her hand as it slid across the fabric.

The thought hit her like a stone right between the eyes. The bed. She was sitting on the bed they must have shared as husband and wife.

Snatching her hand to her chest, she quickly jumped up. His gaze flew to her face, a mask sliding down over his expression, but not before she glimpsed his pain.

She and Luke had slept together in that bed. Had she taken his brother into this bed, too? The very idea sickened her. Just as, she was sure, it sickened her husband.

“Jenny.”

Luke’s voice startled her. She looked at him, hugging her arms across her chest. His muscular body was taut and he looked as if he had something on his mind, but couldn’t find the words to express himself.

What must he think of her? She was helpless to stop the question from whispering across her thoughts.

“I wish things were different,” he said at last. “I’d hoped your homecoming would be...”

He pressed his lips together, letting the rest of the sentence trail off. Reaching up, he raked his fingers through his hair. The breath he expelled was shot through with frustration. “You rest,” he told her. “Mary will come later to check on you. I’ll see you at dinner.”

Then he turned on his heel and left her alone in the peaceful room.

She slipped off her shoes and stretched out on the bed, her chaotic mind a direct contrast to the serene colors and soft fabrics surrounding her. Her greatest wish at this moment was to close her eyes, fly away on the gentle wings of sleep. But her conscious mind had other ideas—ideas it refused to let her ignore.

There were brothers in this house, snipping and snarling like two dogs with one bone. There was a marriage, tattered and torn. And there was a child. Instinctively, Jenny’s hand moved to her stomach. A child that two men claimed.

The pivotal point of all these problems was her...a woman who had no memory of how any of these situations had come to be. Lord above, she sent the silent prayer heavenward, how am I ever going to untangle the mess I’ve made of all these lives?