Reunited for the Holidays. Jillian Hart

stuck in her throat and refused to budge. It wasn’t good to see him again. It was agony.

      “Maybe we should leave you two alone to talk,” one of the girls suggested—maybe Maddie? Belle didn’t dare look up to see for sure. Staring at a polished fingernail—the girls had given her a manicure this morning—gave her something to do as the kids left the room, calling out promises to talk later to Brian, that they couldn’t wait to share the good news with their significant others. As their voices and footsteps faded, silence settled in—or what silence she could make out over the thump of her heart echoing in her ears.

      Brain came closer, then halted again.

      “You don’t have to see me if you don’t want to.” His baritone turned tender and smoky, the way it always had when it had just been the two of them.

      Images assailed her—of them standing side by side at the boys’ cribs while they slept. Of Brian bringing her a steaming cup of her favorite tea while she nursed newborn Grayson, with Tanner tucked in one of his arms. And less than two years later, of the pride and stark love on his face in the delivery room when they both drank in the sight of their beautiful newborn daughters. She could still feel his kiss to her forehead, so sweet her soul ached.

      “It’s fine.” She found the courage she needed to meet his gaze. A stranger’s gaze, she told herself stubbornly. That young man she’d loved—that teenager who’d stood beside her as husband and best friend—no longer existed. Just as she was no longer that same starry-eyed girl.

      A lifetime separated them. And always would.

      Chapter Two

      “Come sit, Brian. You look pale.” Belle might be trying to hide it, but he could sense her true feelings. All she wanted was for him to turn back around and walk out of her life.

      He knew the feeling. It would have been easier if he’d never walked through that door.

      “The kids have been worried.” She looked toward the window instead of at him.

      “I didn’t know they were searching for me.” His voice didn’t sound like his own, so raw and broken. Too vulnerable, he sank into a bedside chair. “I was out of touch longer than I planned, but I was safe and cared for.”

      “You look exhausted. You always were one to work too hard.”

      “I used to work hard for you, Isabella. For our kids.” He didn’t expect her to understand the pride he felt in his family when they’d been teenage parents fighting to keep their marriage together. “I never meant to let you down.”

      There, he’d said it. The words he’d yearned to say since the U.S. Marshal drove her and two of their children away. “I’m sorry.”

      “I forgave you long ago.” She bowed her head, not looking at him. “We both had to get on with our lives.”

      “Yes.” He bowed his head, too. “Forgetting is a different matter.”

      “It was easier when I knew I’d never have to see you again.”

      “Easier to keep it buried.” Those feelings of failure, the mountains of regret. So much lay lost and broken between them—marriage vows, promises and the hope of raising their kids together. “We each had kids to take care of. Protecting them came first.”

      “Exactly.” She lifted her head, her soft auburn hair cascading over her shoulders with a graceful bounce.

      “This really must be a shock for you. Seeing me like this. The twins didn’t warn you I was coming?”

      “No.” She traced her fingertips along the edging of the armchair so she didn’t have to look at him.

      “I tried to prepare myself on the way here.” He cleared his throat. Time had changed her—her face had lost the round softness of youth, to be replaced by almost regal maturity that was impossibly more beautiful. But she was no longer his, and that’s the way they both wanted it. “Carter told me all about how the twins found one another and how they were praying at your bedside on Thanksgiving when you first opened your eyes and came back to them.”

      “Carter is a wonderful young man. He’s so much like you—” Her honest, unguarded gaze found his. This wasn’t easy for her, either.

      “I hope he doesn’t make my mistakes.”

      “We all make mistakes.” Regret weighed on her, too, easy to see. “I hear you are an amazing doctor, like I always knew you would be. You help people, Brian. You make a difference in this world, and your children are proud of you.”

      “You don’t have to try so hard to be kind to me, Isabella. We didn’t exactly part on good terms.”

      “No, but for the kids’ sake—”

      “We have to try.” He nodded, glad they agreed on this. If only he knew what to do about the pain wedged into his chest. Seeing her again made him aware of how he’d failed her. Being teenage parents with two sets of twins had been tough and the stress had torn them apart. He’d been to blame for that. He couldn’t deny it, and the guilt burdened him.

      “They shouldn’t be proud. I’m not saving the world, just going where God leads.” His head reeled, more overwhelmed than he wanted to admit. “This latest mission didn’t turn out like I expected. For a while I worried I might not see the kids again.”

      “Oh, Brian. That must have been agonizing. When I woke up and realized what I could have lost—”

      “Exactly. Weddings. Grandchildren. Birthdays.” He smiled wistfully. “Speaking of which, I couldn’t believe it when I discovered that all of our kids are altar-bound.”

      “I had a similar reaction to the news,” she confessed. “But deep down, I’m so thankful to God for both of our lives...and that we get to share in the happiest of our children’s lives.”

      “I’m thankful you’re here, Isabella. But for the Lord’s grace, I might be having to confront our grieving children and I don’t think I could take seeing them hurt like that.”

      “That was my fear, too.” Her hand found his—large and strong—and at the touch of his skin, her heart twisted. The pain of the past and the divorce stood between them, refusing to relent. She swallowed hard, wishing the past didn’t hurt so much. “What happened to you? Why couldn’t the kids find you?”

      “The strep hit hard. One moment I was fine, the next I was so sick I couldn’t function....”

      “Tell me everything,” Belle insisted.

      “I recall leaving Blackstone in my beat-up SUV and heading toward a farming town along the border. Unfortunately, my car overheated when I was ten miles outside the migrant camp.”

      “How awful! So you were stranded in the middle of nowhere with no cell phone?”

      “It wasn’t as bad as it sounds. A local farm worker happened by in his truck and arranged to have my car towed for repairs. Since it was on his way, he offered to drop me off at the migrant camp while my vehicle was being worked on.” He sighed heavily. “Unfortunately, car troubles were the least of my worries. By the end of my first day at the migrant camp, I was sidelined by a cough and a high fever.”

      Belle couldn’t hide her concern. “Oh, my...what happened next?”

      “I knew I had to leave, because I could be highly contagious and might be doing more harm than good at the camp. So I got a lift back to the auto shop, picked up my SUV and decided to drive to a nearby medical clinic to get checked out.” A shadow crossed his face. “But a short time later I had to pull over because I was too weak to drive and a hazard to others. I sat on the side of the road praying for someone to come by...and the next thing I knew, I woke up in the ditch.”

      “That must have been where they found your wallet.”

      “I hadn’t