“What are you looking for?” Selena asked.

  “A teapot.” She felt her cheeks heat. “I’m still a little lost in Seth’s kitchen.”

  “Over the stove,” Selena said. “And it’s your kitchen now, too.”

  Gabby opened the cupboard over the stove and spotted the teapot. She managed to get it down on her tiptoes, and went about making the tea. Selena fetched some cups, and within a couple minutes they were both settled at the table once more.

  “You said that Seth blamed himself,” Gabby said, stirring a teaspoon of sugar into her mug of tea.

  “Because it took him so long to get back to the house that night,” Selena said. “It wasn’t his fault, of course. He just got caught up with work, and he missed her call.”

  Gabby’s chest tightened. “He missed her call?”

  Two years of talking, two years of confiding...and he hadn’t told her that. Had they been as close as she’d thought?

  “The thing is,” Selena went on, not seeming to notice any change in atmosphere, “Bonnie didn’t like living out here. She wanted a house in town—something with a cute little yard and neighbors on both sides. Of course, Seth never breathed a word of this to me, being as private as he is.”

  “Of course,” Gabby agreed. “So, Bonnie told you?”

  “She needed to vent sometimes. We women do, right? But she’d been asking him to move to town, and he could drive to work here at the ranch. She wanted a part-time job when the baby got older. Anyway, when I saw how hard Seth grieved, I just thought...” Selena paused.

  “You thought he blamed himself for not moving with Bonnie to town,” Gabby concluded.

  Selena shrugged. “I could be wrong.”

  “They seemed like the perfect couple,” Gabby admitted softly.

  “Oh, sweetie,” Selena said, reaching out and putting a hand on Gabby’s. “It’s just appearances. Every couple has to sort things out. Just like you will for the next forty or fifty years. That’s the nature of marriage.”

  “You’re right, of course,” Gabby said. It wasn’t jealousy or newlywed nerves that had tweaked her, even though she knew that was what it must look like. It was a new sense of understanding Seth’s deep grief, his guilt over being happy again, and his refusal to even entertain the thought of falling in love again.

  Was this guilt over Bonnie’s death the reason he’d been willing to marry her to begin with? Was this what was holding him back from finding the real thing again?

  “He doesn’t open up easily,” Gabby said quietly. And she should know. He could have told her that. She’d been telling him pretty much everything for years.

  “Dear, none of them do.” Selena shot her a smile, and Gabby felt her nerves relax. “You’re good for him in a whole different way. I can tell. Just keep doing whatever it is you’re doing.”

  Was this what it was like to have in-laws—people who cared for a man as much as his wife did?

  From upstairs, Gabby heard one of the babies start to cry. Then another joined in, their wails filtering down toward them and making Gabby’s heart yearn in their direction.

  “Care to help out with feeding?” Gabby asked hopefully.

  “I’d love to.” Selena stood up. “Lead the way.”

  She cared about Seth, probably even more than was wise for her to do in this marriage of convenience. But she realized that helping him to get over his grief with Bonnie would very likely unsettle their arrangement.

  Because when Seth’s heart healed, he wouldn’t want a family based on a loveless arrangement. He’d find himself falling in love again eventually...and it wouldn’t be with her. It never had been Gabby who filled his heart. But she knew that she would help him heal, even if it ruined this careful balance.

  Seth didn’t think he’d get the family he longed for without commitment, but once his heart healed, he’d be able to see more clearly. And he’d want to love again. He deserved to love again, and to share his house and his heart with a real wife, not just a convenient match that allowed him to avoid his feelings. Even though Seth wanted to be her boys’ father, in the end, he’d likely be the loving godfather. And a godfather was a good addition to any child’s life. She knew that from personal experience.

  So why did the thought bring a lump to her throat?

  CHAPTER NINE

  SETH PULLED THE blue spruce tree through the back door, the boughs giving some resistance but ultimately bending as he hauled it through. It hadn’t seemed that big out in that wooded stretch of land beyond the west pasture, but as it erupted into his kitchen, boughs springing outward again, he realized it was bigger than he’d thought.

  His aunt’s car was gone, and the kitchen was empty as he laid the tree on the floor. The house smelled good—like chicken and potatoes. And there was the spicy scent of gingersnap cookies mingled in there, too.

  Gabby had cooked—and he felt a wave of gratitude for that. He always had felt loved when there was a meal waiting for him. Bonnie used to have supper waiting. His mom had, too. And while he knew that his relationship with Gabby was different, the meal made for him certainly meant that she cared. Friendship was a kind of love that he didn’t take for granted, either.

  Overhead, he heard Gabby’s voice and the irritated cry of one of the babies. She was busy, obviously. He took off his boots and ambled into the living room. It looked different in there—messier, mainly. A laundry basket full of unfolded clothes sat on the recliner, a few piles of folded baby clothes on the couch. Three red stockings hung on the windowsill. It was already different in this house. Gabby was spreading out. And it only made sense, seeing as they were making a life together, but it might take a little longer to get used to. He headed back into the kitchen, toward the smell of food and the tree in the middle of the kitchen floor.

  He’d need Gabby’s help; putting up that tree was not a one-man job. In the meantime, he opened the oven and found a casserole dish covered in foil. When he peeked inside, he saw some baked chicken legs, some potatoes. She’d set it aside for him, it seemed, and it was pretty obviously leftovers. There were some pots and a used plate in the sink.

  Seth turned off the oven. He found a pot of steamed broccoli on the stove top and set about dishing himself up a plate of food. Overhead, Gabby sang “I’m a Little Teapot” about three times through, and that seemed to quiet the babies down. It was definitely different coming into a house full of life. He wondered why this wasn’t a more painful reminder of the family he’d lost. But Gabby was so different than Bonnie, and she wasn’t a wife in every sense...

  The cries stopped as Seth finished his last drumstick, and he heard Gabby’s footsteps on the stairs. He looked up to see her come down into the kitchen with one of the babies in a bouncy chair—Aiden, he would guess, since he was still the smallest—and she looked over at Seth in surprise.

  “I didn’t hear you come in,” she said, and her gaze moved over to the tree in the center of the kitchen. “Wow—now that’s a tree.”

  “Think it’ll do?” he asked.

  “Oh, definitely!” She sounded properly impressed.

  “The food is great, by the way,” he said. “Thanks for cooking.”

  “No problem.” She disappeared into the living room, then came back without the baby. “I’m just bringing them so they can watch us decorate the tree.”

  “Sure...”

  Was that safe, exactly? If they put the tree in the corner and set up the babies on the far side of the room... He was already thinking ahead.

  In a matter of days, Gabby had filled up his home, and it was entirely different than this house had ever felt. She was different—funny, sweet, no-nonsense. She was different in the intimacy of a shared home, and living with her had revealed a softer side to her than he’d seen before. She felt less like his buddy now than he was entirely comfortable with. She’d quickly become a part of things around here—her and the triplets—in a way he hadn’t expected to enjoy. He was feeling protective, more so than he’d ever been with her before. And added to that, the babies seemed to give a new purpose to making a living—and to dragging a blue spruce all the way from the edge of the south pasture up to his little house.

  He finished the last of his meal and took his plate to the garbage. He scraped the chicken bones into it, then poked his head into the living room again. Aiden’s eyes were open and he was looking around in that near-sighted baby kind of way.

  “Hey, buddy,” he said.

  Gabby came up behind him holding the other two infants, and without asking, she tipped the first baby into his arms, waited until he’d gotten him adjusted and then handed over the second one.

  “Okay...” he said uncertainly.

  “I’ll be back with their bouncy chairs,” she said, and then disappeared behind him once more.

  Seth looked down at the babies. They were both awake, too, and when Beau, the biggest of the three, started to whimper, he bounced the boy gently.

  “Mommy’s coming back in a minute,” he said. “I got you a Christmas tree, you know.”

  He felt a wave of pride being able to say that. They were too little to care, but one of these years, that announcement would be met with excitement. And a year or two after that, he’d have three helpers to tramp out there with him and chop it down. There were worse things than having a stepdad who did right by a kid.

  Gabby came back into the living room with two more bouncy chairs, and she set the boys up on the far side of the room.

  “Gabby, did the guy—your dad—did he ever respond?” he asked.

  Gabby froze, then straightened. “Nope.”

  “Oh...” He’d been afraid of that. “Look—”

  “It’s not a big deal,” she said with forced brightness.

  That was the old Gabby—the buddy. She’d pretend things were better than they were, and it used to be comforting. Maybe it let him worry less, be more certain that she’d come out of whatever was troubling her. But he’d seen a gentler side to her, a more hopeful and vulnerable side. This reaction was false, and he was now close enough to see it.

  “I think it is a big deal,” he countered quietly.

  “He hasn’t been in my life this long. I don’t know what I was expecting.”

  “I think you were expecting common courtesy,” he said.

  Gabby’s cheeriness faded, and she shrugged. “Like I said, I haven’t gotten anything from him up to this point, so I don’t know why that would even surprise me that he doesn’t want contact. Mom was right, after all. I need to focus on the family I’ve got.”

  “Right.” Seth cleared his throat. “That makes sense.”

  He was now close enough to see when she was faking her optimism for his benefit, but it didn’t make him any good at helping her feel better.

  “Speaking of which, your aunt said that they’re having a family Christmas party this Saturday,” Gabby went on. “We’re invited.”

  “Oh...” He paused. A family party... It was one thing informing his extended family of his marriage, and quite another to introduce his new wife to everyone at the same time. The thought was mildly intimidating, and he swallowed.

  “I thought it might be nice,” Gabby said hesitantly.

  “Do we want to do this so soon?” he asked. “I mean, it’s a whole evening with my side of the family, and if we go, it’ll be mostly focused on us.”

  “And Christmas,” she said with a small smile. “You know, doing this, getting married at Christmas, was actually a good idea. People have their own holiday hopes, which will serve as an excellent distraction. Besides, it might be better to just bite the bullet. I’d rather do that than entertain them individually.”

  “Hmm.” He sighed.

  “We either go to them, or they’ll come to us,” she said. “Besides, I could use a bit of extra family right about now. I have a few Christmas hopes of my own.”

  “Yeah?” he asked. “Like what?”

  “Oh, I don’t know... Forgetting about our problems and just enjoying the holiday.”

  And if her dad was ignoring her, maybe a big family gathering would be soothing. At least he could provide a houseful of extended family. He was good for that much.

  “First things first,” he said. “Let’s get this tree up.”

  Seth went back to the kitchen for the tree and carried it through to the living room. The babies were way across the room, but he still kept a pretty close eye on where they were and where these branches stopped. For the next few minutes, he and Gabby got the tree straight and centered, and when Seth had fully tightened the last of the screws in the tree stand, he brushed off his hands and pushed himself to his feet.

  It smelled good—all fresh and piney. The top of the tree just brushed the ceiling, and he tried to feel festive, happy. But it wasn’t in him. He wasn’t ready for this. He wanted to be. He wished he could just plow ahead into a festive mood, but he wasn’t.

  “I’ve got sap on my hands,” he said, his throat feeling tight. He left the room and went to wash his hands. It was Christmastime again, and he was doing the same thing Gabby had been trying to do—pretend everything was okay when it wasn’t.

  He might not be ready to move on, but when he’d married Gabby, and later when he said he wanted to stay married, that was exactly what he’d committed to. But still, he couldn’t just pretend that Bonnie and Hazel hadn’t existed, hadn’t been the center of his Christmases in the past. He looked toward the living room, listening to Gabby’s soft humming, as an idea formed.

  This Christmas, he wasn’t going to be able to just wait it out numbly. There were a few other ornaments upstairs—the personal ones—and if he was having a Christmas tree, they belonged there, too. Christmas was about family...including the one he’d lost.

  Gabby looked up as he came into the room, the cardboard box balanced in one hand. She’d finished winding the lights around and had just plugged them into the wall socket behind the tree. The lights blinked to life and Gabby stood up.

  “I, um—” Seth licked his lips. “There were some ornaments that mattered to me...”

  Gabby came around the tree, her gaze locked on him, but she didn’t say anything.

  “I got an ornament for Hazel’s first Christmas when she was still in utero,” Seth went on. “I don’t know—it wasn’t technically her first Christmas, because she hadn’t been born yet, but she was still with us, you know?”

  Gabby nodded. “Yeah. They’re just as much a part of things, even when they’re still on the inside.”

  Seth smiled wanly. He used to sit next to Bonnie, his hand on her belly, feeling the kicks and jabs. He hadn’t known if they would have a boy or a girl, but he’d known that he already loved this baby.

  “Bonnie and I got a few ornaments, too, over the years and—” He stopped. “I don’t know if that’s stepping over the line to bring them out, or...”

  Would he offend her? He wanted to be a good husband, as far as that went between them. And he’d heard a few horror stories about widowers keeping their late wife’s ashes in the house, stuff like that. He’d always sworn he’d be a little more considerate than that, but then he’d never experienced that depth of loss when he’d made those gallant decisions about his future grief, either. In fact, he’d sworn he wouldn’t marry again, at all.

  “This is your tree, too,” Gabby said quietly. “They belong here. Do you really think I’d try and erase your past? I’m your friend. I’m not jealous.”

  Seth nodded, feeling a wave of relief. “Okay. I just wanted to check.”

  Gabby pulled out the boxed ornaments they’d bought for the boys’ first Christmas. She took a moment to unpack them—three blue teddy bears holding signs declaring both the year and the fact that this was a little boy’s first Christmas—and hung them a few inches apart, right in the front of the tree.

  Seth opened the cardboard box and pulled out a few ornaments and put them on the tree—the generic variety of reindeer, a sled, a snowman. Then he got to the one he’d been looking for. Hazel’s ornament was a pink ball with a sleeping baby painted on the side. It read Baby’s First Christmas, and the date was in the calendar year before her birth. He’d always known there’d be some explaining to do with that ornament, but now he was glad he’d bought it. She deserved to be remembered, to be celebrated. Her time on this earth had mattered, despite how short it was. He paused, unsure where to put Hazel’s ornament.

  “If you’d be okay with it,” Gabby said, “maybe we could hang Hazel’s ornament with the boys’—all together.”

  “Yeah?” He hesitated.

  “Bonnie and Hazel are a part of my history, too,” Gabby said softly. “So don’t you ever think that you have to stop remembering in this house, Seth Straight. They belong on this tree.”

  Seth hung the pink ball on a bough in the center, just a little above the boys’ ornaments, a little closer to heaven, and he blinked back his emotion.

  “Thanks, Gabs...” He swallowed hard.

  Gabby slid a hand around his arm and tipped her head against his shoulder. She felt good here—warm, secure, a reminder that there was still life to be lived. Going on after heartbreak was the hard part, but with Gabby beside him, maybe he could face it. He pressed his lips against the top of her head.

  “What about the party?” she murmured. “Do you want to go?”

  “My aunt would never forgive me if we didn’t,” he admitted.

  For one evening, he could act the part of a proper husband. She was right—it was best to get this out of the way early, and then they could get back to just being themselves.

  CHAPTER TEN

  GABBY HADN’T DRESSED up since before she got pregnant, other than her wedding dress, and that didn’t seem like an appropriate choice for a Christmas party. But she did have a black dress with a high waistline and a fuller skirt that fit again. Her body had changed after having the babies; her waist was thicker and she’d grown rounder in all the other places, too. It was like getting to know herself all over again as she looked in the mirror. She used to be slim, but now she’d become downright curvy. Not only did her figure look different, but a sparkle of gold shone on her left ring finger as well, and as she looked in the full-length mirror on the back of Seth’s bedroom door, that was where her gaze was drawn.