A sound to her left drew Mia’s gaze. Not a cough. Or a snort.

  Maybe a sharply indrawn breath.

  She glanced over at Jordon, saw a shroud of pain cross his face, right before he dove into the girls’ circle, picked them both up, one on each shoulder, and, acting like a galloping horse with sounds and all, took them into the living room.

  And Mia, with Layla’s help, got dinner on the table.

  * * *

  Layla wanted to give the girls their baths and read them their bedtime story. She’d said as much to Jordon when she suggested that he stay and help Mia with the cleanup after dinner.

  He’d agreed because it was the right thing to do.

  And because he wanted a few minutes alone with Mia. Just to make certain that things were good between them.

  She was so good at keeping up appearances—something she’d perfected since he’d last known her—that he seemed to be in a constant state of not sure, where she was concerned.

  And he needed to be sure.

  Needed to know that he wasn’t steering things the way he wanted them to go, assuming that in the end she’d be happiest.

  He’d given up assuming where she was concerned.

  And where Layla was, too, he amended, having just left his mother and the girls at the cabin when she made it clear that she didn’t need his help getting her granddaughters ready for bed. She’d been sitting on the floor of their bedroom at the cabin, looking at the array of stuffed animals the twins were introducing to her.

  His mother, sitting on the floor, suggesting that they braid a unicorn’s mane.

  Layla? On the floor? Guiding playtime instead of bedtime?

  If he wasn’t a grown man, and beyond petty selfishness, he’d have thought that she loved those two darlings she’d just met more than she’d ever loved him.

  As it was, he flooded with love for her. Thankful that she adored Ruby and Violet.

  And told her he was going for a walk.

  Mia had declined his offer to help clean up after dinner.

  But he was going back.

  He’d received the list from the estate company that afternoon. It was long, generated by several employees who’d each taken two rooms of the pristinely cleaned house. He intended to send the list to Mia later that night but wanted to talk to her about how they were going to proceed from there before he did so.

  His plan, to keep a master copy on the cloud and both work off from that, making notes for each other as needed, with basic designations for things, similar to what they’d done with their piles from the boxes he’d brought, was a good one.

  He’d run it by her, and then listen to her thoughts on the matter before determining a final course.

  Hands in the pockets of the dress pants he was still wearing, he solidified his plans as he approached her house.

  They might not be personally involved, but they had business to discuss between just the two of them.

  The light was on in her craft room.

  From outside the back door, he texted her to let her know he was there and wanted to talk.

  What’s wrong?

  Her text came through just as he heard her pull open the back door. As though she’d sent the response verbally while running through the house.

  “Nothing’s wrong,” he said the second her worried face appeared, shadowed beneath the light from the back porch. “I just wanted to talk.”

  She didn’t deny they needed conversation.

  He took that as a good sign.

  She didn’t invite him in, either, suggesting instead that they take a walk. In jean shorts, a tank and cowboy boots, she looked ready to tackle the desert at night. He was up for whatever she needed as long as she was talking to him.

  “I had no idea my mother texted you after we broke up,” he said, the first thing that came to mind. Not at all what he’d come to converse about.

  She shrugged. Said nothing.

  They weren’t going to be talking about it.

  “I also didn’t think about the fact that you cared about her, too. Not back then.”

  Another shrug.

  He’d never reached out to anyone in her family. Nor had they attempted to contact him. He figured it wouldn’t have been a caring contact as his mother’s had been to her.

  Getting nowhere with the things clamoring around inside him, feeling like he never would until they could have a real talk, like they used to during college, Jordon told her about the list’s arrival. Put his suggestions for their use of it on the table. Heard her praise for the idea, followed immediately by her acceptance of it.

  Didn’t feel any better.

  “I miss you,” he said then, under cover of the night, interrupted with bold bright security lights all along the path they were on, winding through parts of the dude ranch.

  He heard her intake of breath, sensed that she was about to bolt, and said, “I know there is no us to be had, Mia, but we need to find something in the ashes of what we were that can live in who we are.”

  So now he was a poet. Or a sap.

  “I know.”

  His chin dropped, his mouth open, as he looked over at her.

  “It keeps popping up, doesn’t it?”

  What did? If she could just answer that question for him, maybe he’d be better able to grasp what they were going to be. Not having any answers, he nodded.

  “Who we used to be, how well we knew each other. Our habits.”

  Like the toast he’d tried to make the night in the suite. “Yes.”

  “I used to feel like I could tell you anything,” she said then.

  Had he felt the same? He wasn’t sure he’d ever felt that free. With anyone.

  And yet... “Maybe that’s what we need to salvage,” he said. “The part we need to bring from the past into the future.”

  Clarity felt within his grasp.

  Could it be that simple?

  “Our way going forward is to be people who can tell each other anything?” she asked, and he couldn’t tell if she thought that was a good idea or a terrible one.

  And suddenly he was scrambling again. What did she need him to say to make her feel okay?

  Then quiet came over him. Inside his mind. He could still hear the crickets. Sounds of voices from the cabins in the distance. But inside, everything stopped.

  That’s what he’d done. He’d said what he’d thought she’d wanted him to say so that he could make her happy.

  He’d also believed that once they graduated and real life had to start, she’d see the sense in leaving Shelter Valley, just as her brother and sister had.

  Just as her brother had told him he expected her to do.

  And Lincoln wasn’t the case at hand at the moment.

  His honesty was. He’d made the vow. There was nothing he could say that could possibly make Mia Jones happy except the truth.

  Even that might not do it. But speaking it was his only chance.

  Something else was abundantly clear. “Your happiness matters to me, Mia. Not just because I’m sorry for the past, for hurting you, for leading you on—I know it’s pretty impossible to believe but I never meant to do that—lead you on. I really thought you’d realize that leaving Shelter Valley was the obvious choice for our future...”

  She’d slowed her step. To turn around?

  He didn’t blame her. They’d said they were done with that part of the past.

  “I would like it if our way going forward would be to be able to speak with each other about anything,” he said then. “It’s becoming clear to me that it’s the only way we’re going to make this work. We can’t just keep burying things, pretending they aren’t there, walking away, because if we don’t deal with them as they arise, they’ll fester.”

  He slid his hands into his pockets. Breathing evenly. They had children. They had to find a way to make it work.

  “Us walking on eggshells all the time, being afraid to speak for fear of saying the wrong thing, or hurting each other, or making each other angry...that’s not going to work for long.” He kept talking.

  She was keeping pace with him.

  “And we’ve made the commitment now. We’re in this forever.”

  That was it. All he had. Right there in the open.

  When she chuckled, he stopped walking. What the hell...

  “Talk about ashes from the past, Jordon. This is one of the things that I missed when you were gone.”

  “Walking in the desert?”

  “No, you being able to cut through the crap to get to the point. To bring it to light so that we could solve it.”

  Right up until that last night. Because he’d landed in a quagmire of four years of his own crap and the only way out he’d seen was to go alone.

  “So...we’re good?” he asked, just to be sure.

  “We’re good,” she told him, nudging her shoulder against his.

  It wasn’t a hug. Or anything close to a kiss.

  But Jordon felt as though he’d just had the best first date ever. Even better than the first time he’d taken Mia out.

  Because this one was ending with them joined together forever.

  Chapter Twenty

  The next days were a whirlwind for Mia. Reconnecting with Layla was far better than she’d have imagined it could be. They didn’t discuss Jordon. And other than that, they took up right where they’d left off. The bond between them...she hadn’t imagined it.

  Layla hadn’t just been motherly to her because she was Jordon’s fiancée. But because she’d truly cared for Mia.

  It was...nice...knowing that.

  Better than nice.

  And Layla in the picture, nannying for the girls during their months in New York, made the future seem a whole lot more doable for Mia. Not because she didn’t trust Jordon to be a great father, but because she knew Layla would keep her posted, include her, in the little things that mattered to a mother.

  Having Layla there, a go-between for Mia and Jordon when they got back to living across the country in their regular daily lives, set Mia’s mind at ease. She finally let herself start to believe that they were going to make it work in a way that made everyone happy.

  Layla stayed at the cabin that first night, with Jordon sleeping on the couch. She’d wanted to be present when the girls woke up. And her presence allowed Mia to get up at her normal time and get some work done before she joined the girls and Layla for breakfast.

  As they moved to the larger cabin, that first day became their routine. Mia still had her time alone with the girls. Layla would cook or borrow Mia’s car and go into Phoenix to see friends. And they’d meet up in the afternoon for swimming before dinner.

  She didn’t see Jordon as much and told herself that that was good, too. Life lost a little spark, but because the spark had come with the danger of her being burned, she was able to relax and enjoy every second she had with Ruby and Violet.

  And every moment became precious, too, and maybe a little fraught with dread, as the end of the month drew closer and she knew that Jordon would be taking the girls back to New York. He’d said he’d fly to New York sometime that next week, leaving Layla with Mia and the girls, and then fly out west again to take them home.

  Home.

  New York would be her daughters’ home. Not hers.

  And her home wouldn’t be theirs.

  Every time the thought sent panic through her, she reminded herself that until the beginning of that month, she hadn’t even known she had children.

  And that, having no legal rights to them, she was blessed to be so included in their lives.

  Her mind got it fully.

  Her heart...cried a bit.

  Even while it rejoiced.

  She’d called her brother and sister, a video call the first full day that Layla was there, to tell them that the twins were hers, and after they’d calmed down and she firmly assured them that she was happier than she’d ever been, they were excited to meet their nieces. By Thursday, they’d made plans to visit that weekend, and even that had gone well.

  Lincoln and Jordon didn’t say much to each other, which was fine with Mia. But on that Saturday evening, they all met at the dude ranch’s convention cabin—a place where employers could hold functions with their employees during bonding weeks, or families could have reunions while staying at the cabins—and had a loud and lively dinner together. Ruby and Violet were the youngest by several years but found their places in the family as though they’d been born there.

  Her ten-year-old nephew had taken Ruby and Violet under his wing, showing them how to catch a ball, and they’d both adored him. Running after him everywhere he went. Her nieces, aged eight and nine, had tried to baby the girls and ended up playing house with them. Ruby and Violet were besotted, so played along well at being the “kids” and taking orders from the “parents” until they were done and ran off to play ball and then to collect pretty rocks.

  Layla had met both Lincoln and Sara and Lincoln’s spouse during holiday events at the ranch when Mia and Jordon were in college and, by appearances at least, seemed to enjoy reconnecting. Sara’s husband, Randy, was a genuinely nice guy, a stay-at-home dad, who got along with, and watched over, everyone.

  Greg Richards, the sheriff of Shelter Valley, stopped by in time for dessert, almost as though he’d known exactly when to show up—as Mia was certain he had. He brought his wife, Beth, with him, and she was as gracious and lovely as always. Her son, Ryan, had been two when she’d shown up in town with no memory of who she was or how she got there, and the sheriff had fallen hook, line and sinker. Mia had been ten or eleven at the time. Ryan had just graduated from Montford with a degree in law enforcement. The Richards had two biological kids of their own, too, both in high school.

  And when she’d introduced Ruby and Violet, while they’d both shown surprise, she could tell they’d already known the twins were her biological children. And she had her confirmation as to who had tipped her brother off to the twins’ arrival at the ranch two weeks before. It had been Greg, just as she’d thought.

  Because of Greg’s loyalty to Lincoln, Mia had been a little unsure of the sheriff’s reaction to Jordon being among them, but, true to Shelter Valley’s ways, Greg welcomed Jordon back to the fold. It’s what Shelter Valley people did.

  They gave second chances.

  Which was why, after everyone had retired to their own places for the night, and Mia said good-night to the girls, intending to stop by and see Brilliant before heading up to her big house alone, she’d accepted Jordon’s offer to walk up with her.

  In the two weeks he’d been back in her life, he’d done everything he could to make things right with her. He’d given her her children. Was sharing them with her permanently.

  It was time she was good to him, too. Not just decent. Polite. But good.

  While their personal past was gone forever, they could find a new “them.” He’d said as much the previous week, on their walk, and while she’d agreed with him, she hadn’t been able to commit to any kind of personal interaction between them that didn’t directly involve the girls.

  She’d been denying him his second chance.

  But as they walked up the dirt road from the cabins to her place, she struggled for words. How did you ask your ex, the probable love of your life, to be your friend?

  It was a question she’d take to Brilliant.

  “You want to meet someone?” she asked, kind of regretting the question as soon as she’d uttered it. But somehow knowing that introducing him to the friend who’d saved her after Jordon had left was the right bridge from past to present.

  “Here?” he asked, looking far too good in the shorts and polo shirt he’d had on all day. With everyone else around, she’d been able to avoid any direct eye contact with his muscled chest and thighs and butt.

  “Of course, here,” she told him. Wondering if the trepidation she felt was getting through to him somehow.

  Like she was making too much of him meeting her horse.

  The girls had seen Brilliant. Had seen Mia tending to the horse, as she did others during the day. They didn’t know she was hers.

  Jordon didn’t accept her request. But he kept pace with her as she turned off from the road and segued over to the biggest barn, and then, flipping on the back wall lights only, headed toward Brilliant’s stall in the back corner.

  Opening the door of the stall, she whispered a few words of greeting, and then, keeping her voice soft, nestled up to the horse’s head as Brilliant stood, flapped her tail back and forth and reached for Mia with her nose.

  “This is Brilliant,” Mia said, turning toward Jordon, who’d stepped just inside the stall. As if on cue, the mare rested her head on Mia’s shoulder.

  As though the horse knew who Jordon was. And was claiming ownership of the heart Jordon broke.

  Jordon didn’t step forward. Or move back, either. He stood there, nodded at the horse. And waited.

  He knew something was coming. She could tell by the set of his shoulders. His jaw.

  She liked that, knowing him well enough to figure out where he was at just by looking at him. And kind of hated knowing, too. It spoke of a closeness she no longer wanted with him.

  Her mind didn’t want.

  The heart...it had been given to him long ago and apparently there were no take backs.

  Grabbing a brush off the shelf, she started soft, sure strokes along Brilliant’s lower neck. The horse’s coat didn’t need attention. Brilliant just loved the touching.

  And Mia needed to touch.

  “After you left...I was frozen inside. Couldn’t find anything to be excited about. Nothing to look forward to. That part of me...it was just gone.”

  She didn’t look at him. “My father tried to get me interested in things. Talking my sister into taking me to stay with her on the beach in San Diego for a few days. All I wanted was to get back to Shelter Valley.”