Reunited for the Holidays. Jillian Hart

leg weak. At least she allowed him to help. “We can eat it in the sunroom, although it’s strange to think it’s December. I still look outside and expect it to be hot, sunny July.”

      “A lot of time passed while you were sleeping.”

      “And a lot of things changed. Like the fact that our kids are suddenly all madly in love. I just wish I had been here to see them find their perfect soul mates.” Her chin hiked up, full of grit. “And did I mention I’m going stir-crazy in here? What I need is to be outside beneath the big blue Texas sky, and I’ll be fine.”

      “I know you will be.” Tenderness gathered behind his sternum, but surely it wasn’t tenderness, it only felt that way. It had to be worry for what the kids had gone through, seeing her fall off her horse, expecting her to get up and praying for her to be fine but she wasn’t. The rush to the hospital, the terror in the waiting room, the fear and anguish at her bedside praying for her to come back to them.

      Thank You, Lord, he prayed automatically, as if caring about Belle was second nature. Once it had been. Now, she was the mother of their children, nothing more. It made him sad. He waited while she tapped away at the phone she drew from her pocket, her auburn hair tumbling forward to curtain her face. When she was done he tucked the chairs into place beneath the table and waited for her to amble into the aisle.

      “I know the girls were planning to keep me company for lunch anyway,” Belle explained. “I told her to bring the boys along. We’ll tell them over the meal.”

      “I know that look.” The furrow across her forehead. “You’re worried about how they are going to take this.”

      “I’ve spent twenty-five years second-guessing my decision.” She halted, her pearled teeth digging into her lush bottom lip. Vulnerability carved into her face, showing every bit of the gentle girl with the big heart he’d fallen in love with once. “Their safety wasn’t the only reason I didn’t tell them the truth. I was afraid they would hate me for separating us. For not letting you and the other half of the twins come with us.”

      “That wasn’t your fault, Belle.” It cut him in two to think back upon that unhappy time. “We both made that decision, remember? We agreed to stay apart. It was for the best.”

      “Yes, but will they understand?” For all her strength and bravado, Belle’s world had revolved around her children. Clearly that was as true as it had ever been.

      “We’ll do our best to make them understand.”

      “Maybe now is a good time to tell you something else. The twins received Bibles from an anonymous person while I was in my coma. There were notes inside asking for forgiveness. There was no explanation and I can’t help but wonder if it could be from him?”

      “I’ll find out. I promise you.” He reached out to cover her hand, wanting to comfort her and reassure her, but hesitated. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea.

      As if she agreed, she gave his outstretched hand a worried look, straightened her shoulders and moved forward. “I think I need to lie down for a while.”

      “Fine.” He stayed planted where he stood in the corridor, watching her progress along the tiled floor, hurrying away from him. Tall, lean, graceful, even with a limp. It wasn’t longing he felt—his affection for Belle was in the past—but he couldn’t put his finger on what emotion tugged at him. Perhaps he would always want to make things better for Belle, always want to make her happy.

      Not that he’d ever been able to do so. Shoulders braced, he headed for the nurses’ station. He had a few questions for Belle’s doctors.

      * * *

      “...Lord bless us and keep us. Amen.” Belle finished the blessing, trying to keep her voice from wobbling with nerves. Thankful for her faith that sustained her and for her family, united and happy, she opened her eyes and gave Violet’s hand one last squeeze before releasing it.

      For a minute it was like seeing double—two identical sons and two identical daughters seated in wicker chairs around a patio table watching her every move. No doubt for signs of weakness. They worried over her health too much. She was a Texas girl, born and bred. She was tough, she was resilient and she’d defeat the last effects of her head injury in no time. She hated that they were troubled. Worse, she hated the crinkle of concern carved into Brian’s handsome face. Movie-star handsome, she might add. Honest piercing brown eyes, exquisite cheekbones and the strongly angled jaw that maturity had only improved.

      Now, why exactly was she noticing? Probably because it was better than the difficult story she was about to tell. Anxiety fluttered in her stomach, making the appetizing meal Lupita had packed for them look like a very bad idea indeed. Her midsection rolled, and her hunger tanked. The secret had lived inside her for so many years. She’d avoided this moment for more than one reason, for more reasons than she’d admitted to Brian. What if telling the truth brought more pain?

      “Do you want me to start, Belle?” Brian couldn’t be kinder as he searched her face across the length of table. Behind him a Christmas garland slung across the doorway into the sunroom. “I’d like to.”

      “You didn’t mention that earlier.” Her words were light and meant that way, but she couldn’t help feeling annoyed. It was her story to tell, she was the one who’d torn this family apart long ago. Hadn’t that been how she’d spent the past hour in her room, practicing what she would say and how she would say it? Fearing all the while the twins wouldn’t understand. That they would resent her for disrupting their childhoods and separating them for over two decades. Each twin had grown up alone because of her.

      “If you want to go first, then go.” Brian nodded absently, and Carter slipped a pulled pork sandwich onto his plate. Brian’s entire focus zeroed in on her. “Let me take the blame.”

      “But you aren’t at fault.” His steadfast tone almost made her believe it.

      “You weren’t the one who saw—” She stopped herself, seeing it happen all over again.

      “Mom, what’s going on?” Jack leaned forward in his chair. “What did you see?”

      “Yeah...what’s this all about?” Grayson asked.

      “Mom, you look upset.” Violet took her hand again and squeezed.

      “The doctor said you aren’t supposed to be stressed.” Maddie frowned, taking her other hand. “Dad, what’s got her so worked up?”

      Belle shook her head. See how the man made her crazy? He’d always stirred her up, messed with her normally logical mind and turned everything on end. It wasn’t that they were arguing, exactly. She laughed at herself. Some things never changed. “Fine, Brian, you go first.”

      Across the table, the man arched one brow as if to ask if she was sure. She nodded, nerves prickling. This looked important to him. She wanted to be the one to tell the truth, the truth her children had been asking about for a long time. Brian hadn’t been there, he hadn’t been involved, but she wanted peace between them. Leave the arguments and the fighting in the past where it belonged. As if he could see all that in her eyes, he drew in a breath, straightened his spine and looked around the table at each child, now an adult, the sadness in his gaze strong enough to dilute the shining sun.

      “Twenty-five years ago your mother and I divorced. We’d married young while we were still in high school, and this may come as a shock to you but we had to get married. That was my fault, and mine alone. This was before both Belle and I were Christians.”

      Brian’s sincerity rumbled in deep, low notes. “I won’t lie to you, it was tough being married that young. We had school to finish, and then your mother chose to drop out when the boys were born. That wasn’t an easy sacrifice. I almost did, too, because juggling full-time work was too much, but your mother encouraged me to hang in there.”

      “You had dreams, Brian.” It hurt to remember the young man he’d been, the integrity that had always been a part of him. Insisting he had to marry her, struggling as