God, what a woman he’d been blessed with. Not only was she beautiful, she was loyal and kind and about as interesting as anyone he’d ever known.

  Carol wanted another grandchild. James didn’t think Cassie was going to be able to give her one. But then, he’d also been sure that she and Sam would never find their way back together again.

  Of course, his son and daughter-in-law could always adopt another child. Mariah had been the daughter of Sam’s closest friends. But agency adoption was also an option; it had worked out okay for Becca and Will.

  Still, Sam had his syndicated comic strip to keep him busy. And his construction business was flourishing so fast his obstinate son would have to find someone to run it for him if he planned to go on contributing to the construction process with his own hands. And Cassie not only had her veterinary practice, but that pet-therapy thing she was doing, which was going great guns. She had some fine friends, too. Strong women, all of them.

  Reminded him of Carol. They’d had their ups and downs but they’d made it.

  Muff was at his feet, issuing little half barks, wanting to be picked up. James didn’t dare bend over just now. If he made it that far without passing out, chances were his arm would lose strength on the way back up and he’d drop her. The weakness was worse tonight. If he had a little more energy, he’d be damned upset about that. With a final huff the dog lay down on his feet and heaved a huge sigh.

  His head against the back of the chair, James remembered a day when he could sigh like that.

  IT WAS PROBABLY TOO LATE in Boston for Caroline to be calling. Almost eleven o’clock Jesse’s time. Caroline sat on her bed, her back propped on pillows against the headboard, and dialed her cell phone anyway. Finger punching each of the buttons individually rather than using the speed-dial button preprogrammed with Jesse’s number, she considered what she was going to say.

  And wondered if she was being selfish—or wise.

  Caroline recognized that she wasn’t at her best. With school starting the next day, she would’ve felt a bit shaky even without the added turmoil of seeing, for the first time, the twin who didn’t even know she existed, the only blood relative she had in the world, other than her son.

  She pushed the tenth number and read the display just to be sure she’d dialed correctly. Her thumb hung just above the Send button.

  Her flannel gown was warm. Caroline didn’t need covers just then. Her homey and spotless room was bathed in the glow of light from the lamp on her nightstand. She’d turned it to the lowest setting. If she hadn’t been afraid of making Mrs. Howard nervous, she’d have lit a candle, too. Something with chamomile and lavender and sweet marjoram—all natural sedatives.

  Caroline’s thumb descended. She listened for the ring. If no one answered at the dorm, she didn’t know what she was going to do.

  Hang up, she supposed.

  Seeing those ladies downtown this afternoon had been her undoing. She’d somehow missed seeing the connection between Shelter Valley, a small town like Grainville, and Shelter Valley, the home of Montford University and all of its resident professionals. She’d known she’d have to work hard not to appear backward. What she hadn’t expected was to find the people of Shelter Valley such a closed group. The citizens of Grainville welcomed every newcomer with equal curiosity and welcome. She’d been in Shelter Valley almost two weeks, and other than young Ellen Hanaran, she’d yet to see any open arms.

  Ten rings. Eleven. Still, Caroline waited. The phone was out in the hall, Jesse had explained when he’d given her the number. And the guys were a lazy bunch. No one wanted to bother getting up to answer it when in all likelihood the call would be for someone else.

  Blinking back tears, Caroline tried to ignore the bitter irony of having traveled so far from home, hoping to find home, only to feel so homesick.

  On the twenty-second ring, a deep voice barked hello—along with a threat that made her darn glad she wasn’t Melissa. The tone changed completely when she identified herself.

  “Oh, sorry, ma’am. Joe’s ex has been calling all night and a few of us are running out of patience. Hold on, I’ll get Jesse.”

  Caroline did as he said—held on. And felt inordinately old. She was a ma’am that some cool college kid spoke to in that deliberate way reserved for people you had to respect but couldn’t wait to escape. Like the preacher. Or someone else’s mother.

  Tomorrow she’d be sitting in rooms filled with kids just like that.

  And she’d thought she couldn’t possibly feel any more isolated.

  “Mom?” Jesse’s greeting was breathless, as though he’d run to the phone. “Is everything okay? Are you hurt or lost or something?”

  You gotta love it. The survival voice inside Caroline, which had deserted her downtown, chose that second to return. You raise a kid from scratch, solve all his problems, answer questions like “why is the moon white” and then he has a birthday or two and suddenly you’re incapable of walking across a room without mishap.

  “I’m fine, Jess.” If only her psyche would take heed of the confident assurance in her voice. “How’s school?”

  “Good. Really good.” He sounded a little doubtful, a little hesitant, as though his mind wasn’t completely focused on what he was saying, but he spent the next five minutes telling her about the Christmas vacations of a couple of the guys he’d met. And he talked about his upcoming classes. He’d purchased his books. And he had a job working a couple of hours a day bussing tables in a cafeteria.

  “Have you seen your sister yet?” he asked.

  “No. Tomorrow. I’m in her Psychology class.”

  “Whoa! That’s random, Ma. Your sister’s your prof?”

  Caroline smiled. If only it could always just be her and Jess. “Yep.”

  “So what are you gonna do? Just walk right up and say, hey, guess what, we’re twins?”

  “No, Jess.” Her head hurt. “I’m not going to tell her.”

  “Ever?”

  “Maybe not.”

  “Well, what’s the point of that? You went all the way there to meet her.”

  “That’s true,” she said, glancing at her computer, a world where she knew the rules, felt safe.

  “What’s wrong, Ma?” He was suddenly alert, suddenly protective.

  “Nothing’s wrong, Jess, but there is something I wanted to talk to you about.”

  “It’s not going to be worse than you moving across the country to some strange town in the middle of the desert, is it?” His tone suggested that such a thing wasn’t possible.

  “I don’t think so.”

  Was she being selfish? Or fair? Jesse was going to be a big brother. He had a right to know.

  And no need to know until he came home for summer vacation, when he’d have some time to absorb, in peace and privacy, the turns life was taking.

  But she needed him to know.

  Which was no reason to tell him.

  “Ma, you aren’t getting married to some cowboy you just met, are you?”

  “No!” The answer was sharper than she’d intended. “You couldn’t be farther from the truth.”

  “Thank God.”

  He might not be so happy about that once he heard the rest of what she had to tell him.

  And she had to tell him. He was going to be hurt and offended if she waited six months to let him know she was having another child. Understandably so.

  “I’m pregnant, Jess.” Shadows hung silently on the walls surrounding her, unmoving, as though waiting either to be dispelled or to prevail. The dim light projected more gloom than comfort now. She shivered but didn’t pull the covers around her. Instead, as she’d done since she was a child, she twirled a piece of her hair, free from its daily ponytail, around her finger. And stayed quiet.

  “Tell me you didn’t just say what I thought you said.” There was more of his father in that sentence than she’d ever heard before.

  “I’m two months’ pregnant, Jess. I’ve already been to the doctor. The baby’s due August sixth.”

  He didn’t hang up.

  Maybe she shouldn’t have told him. He had a lot to cope with, having just lost his father, moving away from home for the first time, starting college so young. God, it was so hard to know what to do, what was right.

  “Jess?” Caroline said softly after what seemed like several minutes had passed. “Say something.”

  “I’ve got nothing to say.”

  She wished the light was off—leaving her in darkness. It might be easier.

  “Are you angry?”

  “No. It’s your life.”

  “Disappointed?”

  “No.”

  “Are you lying to me? Are you upset?”

  “Ma? Let it go, will ya?” Randy was the one who’d taken the brunt of that impatient tone in the past. Never her. “I don’t know what I am, okay? I can’t believe this is happening.”

  “It doesn’t change the way I feel about you. You know that, don’t you? Nothing will ever change that.”

  “I wasn’t even thinking about that,” he said. “I know I’m a teenager, but I do have thoughts that aren’t about me.”

  Caroline stopped fighting the tears that sprang to her eyes, letting them slide slowly down her cheeks. “I know that, Jess. But it would’ve been a perfectly understandable and natural reaction.”

  “I’m too busy trying to figure out how we can make this all work to think about feelings,” he said. “Someone’s gonna have to make enough money to support us all.”

  Had she not been engaged in a conversation, Caroline would have broken out in sobs at that. She might’ve messed up many things in her life, but Jesse sure made her look good.

  “Those aren’t your concerns, Jess,” she told him, hoping there was enough authority in her voice to convince him. “I’ve got everything figured out, and we’ll be just fine.”

  “I’d like to finish this year, at least, and if the kid isn’t coming until summer, that shouldn’t be a problem….”

  She sat up straighter, clutching the phone so hard she activated the volume control. “You will finish all four years there, young man. I won’t hear anything different.”

  “You said you weren’t getting married.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Then who’s going to take care of you and the kid if I don’t? You might think you’re a superwoman, Ma, but not even you can raise a baby and run that farm all by yourself.”

  There’d certainly been times she’d felt as though she was doing exactly that. If she had a little more emotional energy, she might have argued with him.

  “I’m not going to be running the farm,” she said, though she realized he wouldn’t want to hear that, either. “I knew about the baby before I came to Shelter Valley, Jess, and I came anyway. I’m here on a full scholarship. You’re there on a full scholarship. With the money from your father’s life insurance, as long as we’re careful, we can both finish school.”

  His harsh sigh gave her an indication of the words he wanted to say and didn’t.

  “Do you want to know who the father is?”

  “Not really.”

  That hurt. It shouldn’t. But it did.

  “I only slept with him once, Jess. And he’s the only one—”

  “I said I didn’t want to hear it.”

  “The holidays were just so hard without your father, and I—”

  “Ma, please.” The word was ground out from the back of his throat.

  “Are you ashamed of me, Jess?” It was what she’d feared most.

  “No.”

  “I wouldn’t blame you if you were. I know it’s going to be embarrassing for you and I’m sorry. I never would’ve chosen to have this happen.”

  “I know, Ma.”

  “And maybe it’ll be a little easier for you with me here instead of in Grainville.”

  “Maybe. Have you told Gram and Papa?”

  Her parents. She was doing her best not to think about them. Other than worrying that her mother was all right, feeling guilty for deserting her. “No, and I’m going to ask you not to do so, either,” she said, her chest tight. “I talk to Gram every week, but she has enough on her plate and she’ll make herself sick fretting about this from now until August.”

  “I’m not telling anyone,” Jesse said, his tone making clear that it was the last thing he’d do. “But I think you ought to give her more than a week’s notice,” he added. “She’s your mother. And it’s her grandkid.”

  He was right, of course.

  “I will, Jesse. Once I’m further along and know for sure that I’m going full term, I’ll tell her.”

  “You mean there’s still a chance that you’ll lose it?” He seemed almost relieved.

  “There’s always that chance, Jesse, but it’s not likely. The doctor said everything looks great and I’m healthy—”

  “Oh.”

  She had to get off the phone before she started to cry in earnest. Jesse wouldn’t know how to handle that.

  “I love you, Jesse, more than life.”

  “Yeah.”

  “You don’t love me anymore?”

  He sighed again, sounding more tired now than anything else. “Of course I do. And I know you, Ma. I’m sure you haven’t done anything to make me ashamed of you. And I’m not. I just don’t know what I do think. You’re gonna have to give me some time on this one.”

  “Okay, Jesse.” Her hand was so sweaty the phone was slipping. “Take all the time you need. And if you want to talk about it, you call, okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Bye, Jess.”

  “Bye, Ma. Take care of yourself….”

  Reaching over to turn off the light, Caroline slid down until her head was on the pillow and, lying there on top of the covers, the phone still in her hand, she cried herself to sleep.

  “I HEARD LANGFORD MAKES freshman English look like a party, man.”

  “Yeah, this class is gonna suck. I tried to get out of it, but everything else I needed was either full or too early in the morning.” The knowing chuckle that followed grated on Caroline’s nerves.

  She moved down a step into the lecture hall.

  “…and that’s when he kissed me…”

  Another step.

  “…did you see the reading assignments? She had the syllabus posted online.”

  Damn, Caroline hadn’t even known such a thing was possible. She could’ve been using all her empty hours getting a head start on assignments. Another step. There must be about fifteen or twenty of them.

  “We’re getting a full keg, man. You should come….”

  “I heard her tests are mostly from her lectures….

  “My roommate says she’s cool, as far as profs go….”

  “No kidding! I heard them in concert….”

  Another step. And another. She passed a young man in black leather pants, a black leather jacket with painful-looking silver studs around the bottom edge and black lace-up leather boots. He had more earrings in one ear than were in the whole jewelry case in the drugstore back home. He was slouched in a seat sound asleep.

  “Is anyone sitting here?” she asked a blonde wearing jeans, a white Arizona sweatshirt, tennis shoes and a ponytail.

  “No.”

  Not particularly friendly. But not rude, either.

  Caroline slid into the seat midway down the lecture hall in Psych 101 just after the lunch hour on Wednesday, trying not to let the conversations around her, the nervous energy in the air, affect her. She was going to sit here, listen, takes notes and leave. Just like she’d done at her English class that morning and like she planned to do in every classroom she entered over the next four years.

  She was here to get an education. A college degree. She was here to further her life, catch up with the tail end of her destiny.

  And…

  “Good afternoon, everyone!”

  She was here to see her twin sister for the first time in her life.

  “Welcome!” The voice came again.

  Pressure built at the back of Caroline’s eyes. She tried to take a deep breath, but her throat was too tight to let the air pass. She put down her pen before she dropped it.

  The lecture hall was eerily silent except for the clatter of pumps coming down from the door at the top of the room. People around her turned toward the sound. Caroline squeezed her eyes shut.

  “Did everyone have a good holiday?” The voice—strong, soothing, compelling, confident—washed over her, carrying chills in its wake. It was her voice. Or could have been if she’d ever felt that confident about anything in her life.

  She was burning up in her jeans and gingham blouse and blue cardigan sweater. And, in spite of the seventy-degree temperature outside, she was freezing.

  She was also afraid that she might have her first serious bout of morning sickness.

  “Okay, we’ve got quite a large group here.”

  Caroline opened her eyes as the voice, amplified by a microphone now, sounded from the front of the room. And stared at the woman she recognized from the photo in her wallet and yet, didn’t recognize at all. Phyllis wasn’t just a collection of grainy lines on a worn piece of paper. Her head wasn’t turned slightly, exposing only one side fully, her mouth wasn’t pursed as though she’d been caught in speech. She wasn’t one-dimensional at all.

  She was real.

  And beautiful.

  And Caroline didn’t know what to do.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “TELL ME ABOUT YOUR FAMILY.” Hands in his pockets, John walked beside Caroline to the entrance of the Arizona Sonoran Desert Museum near Tucson on Saturday morning.

  She was hugging her sweater around her, as though warding off a bone-chilling cold instead of the sixty-degree sunshine.