Reunited for the Holidays. Jillian Hart

pulled out his cell phone. “Let me just make a quick call to let Savannah know we’ll be home a little late.” He smiled indulgently. “My lovely fiancée tends to worry, especially with all those pregnancy hormones running amok.”

      Brian beamed back at Carter. He’d heard how his youngest son had taken his fallen comrade’s pregnant wife under his wing—and fallen in love in the process. He couldn’t be prouder of his boy.

      The ride was a short one. The church door stood open as a late Bible study was just disbanding, from what Brian could overhear in the parking lot. He left Carter in the truck and climbed the stairs. His movements rustled in the empty sanctuary, where the stained-glass windows gazed down at him darkly. God’s presence surrounded him, a calm that strengthened his weary body and refreshed his hurting soul.

      “Dear Heavenly Father,” he began, kneeling, his voice echoing slightly in the shadows. “As You know, I’ve been absent from worship lately when I was ill and I’ve missed it sorely. Thank You for sparing my life. I know it was a near thing, and I’m more grateful than ever after tonight. Seeing the twins reunited and Belle—”

      He stopped, struggling to clear the lump in his throat. Belle, more beautiful than ever. Just as stubborn and full of grit, her smile could light up a room the way it once had lit every chamber of his heart. “You answered my only prayer. That somehow, someway, I could see my lost children again. That they could all find happiness together, reunited, the way it should have been. Thank You, Father, from the bottom of my heart. Please hold them safe in the palm of Your hand.”

      His amen echoed in the stillness and peace. As Brian climbed to his feet, he felt God’s touch like a ray of hope in the dark late November night.

      Chapter Three

      The first day of December shone bright and beautiful. Belle followed the path of sunshine tumbling into the corridor along Ranchland Manor’s tiled floors with maddeningly slow speed.

      “Up again?” Helga, one of the nurses, looked up from her station. “I thought the doctor wanted you to rest.”

      “Think of this as an extra physical therapy session.” Belle trudged by. “The faster I recover, the sooner I can leave. No offense, Helga.”

      “None taken.”

      “But we’ll miss you, dearie.” Eunice Lundgrin looked up from her crocheting as Belle entered the large, bright common room. “You liven things up around here.”

      “Only since I’ve been out of my coma,” Belle quipped over the thunk of her walker. “Don’t tell me you ladies finished the jigsaw puzzle without me.”

      “You didn’t think we’d wait for you, did you?” Marjorie Collins looked up from her book. “You left us to go see that handsome Kirk.”

      “He’s a physical therapist and my son’s age!” Laughing, Belle eased into the overstuffed chair closest to the picture window, aching to be outside in wide-open spaces. “It wasn’t a date.”

      “Pretty girl like you ought to have a fella.” Eunice completed her double crochet with a flourish.

      “I tried that once and discovered it wasn’t for me.” Laughing was easier than the truth of how hard marriage had been as teenage parents. She shot the older ladies a smile. “Men are just too much trouble.”

      “I can’t say they aren’t,” Anna Chandro piped in as she reached the end of her knitted row, making lovely progress in spite of her stroke. “My Roberto, God rest his soul, was more trouble than I knew what to do with. Most days he was like having another kid around.”

      “Ain’t that the truth?” Eunice agreed, giving her yarn ball a tug. “I raised my Charlie right along with our four boys. He was always tracking mud in on his shoes, forgetting to pick up his towel, turning up the TV volume until a girl couldn’t think.”

      “I would have taken a broom to him,” Marjorie teased, marking her page and closing her inspirational romance novel. “My John doesn’t dare step one toe out of line.”

      “Oh, yes, I saw it in his eyes when he visited yesterday.” Belle couldn’t help giving a little sigh. The dear lady’s room was across the hall from hers, and she’d spotted the wizened John arriving with a bouquet of flowers, a stack of new novels, and he’d stayed to share supper with her in the dining room. A sweeter couple never lived. Lifelong love, that had once been her dream, too...and no, she wasn’t going to let her heart flutter at the mention of his name.

      “Speaking of guests, I saw Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome leave Belle’s room quite late last night.”

      “Is that right?” Eunice gave her yarn another good yank. “So, there seems to be a lot Belle isn’t telling us. Look at her blush.”

      “I’m not blushing. It’s the heat. I’m sitting in the direct sun.” Denial was always her first coping choice, along with a quick change of subject. “My children visited again last night, that’s all.”

      “We noticed,” Eunice said, crocheting with lightning speed. “How could we not? Those two sets of twins?”

      “They’re adorable.” Marjorie smiled, her hand resting on her book. “The girls are both so lovely, such nice, well-behaved young ladies.”

      “And those boys, strapping and handsome.” Anna’s needles stilled. “What I can’t figure is how you managed with two sets of twins. One newborn is a handful. Up most of the night between feedings, diapers and colic. How did you handle twins? And twice?”

      “It wasn’t easy, especially since I was sixteen at the time.” The confession came quietly, since she wasn’t sure how the older women would take her news. “Brian and I married and had the twin boys. The girls came two years later.”

      “Double the blessings, double the hard work,” Eunice sympathized.

      “And the stress. Child care is the most demanding work there is,” Marjorie piped in gently. “Four little ones all two years old or younger. I couldn’t have survived it. Stress would have done me in. Just proves you’re one special lady, Belle.”

      “You are way too kind.” Belle’s chest knotted up as it always did, thinking of those years. Failure haunted her. She hadn’t been the wife and the mother she’d meant to be.

      “Anyone can see you did a wonderful job,” Anna added lovingly.

      “You three are the wonderful ones. No wonder we’ve become fast friends.” Belle felt a change in the air and turned toward the doorway where Brian stood. How long he’d been listening in was anyone’s guess.

      “Good afternoon, ladies.” Brian tossed them a dazzling smile.

      He looked better this morning. A good night’s sleep had done him wonders. He had more color in his face, and the dark circles were gone. The wind had tousled his dark hair, giving him a slightly rakish look, a reminder of the young man she’d fallen irrevocably in love with.

      Not that she ever could again, she thought, wishing the other women in the room weren’t giving him a collective sigh of approval. Trying not to imagine what her new friends would be saying next, she spoke up before they could. “I thought you were going to take some time for yourself. Rest up. Regain your strength.”

      “I’m tough. I don’t need to rest.” His easygoing humor rolled over her, just like in the old days.

      But those days are long gone, she reminded herself stubbornly. Besides, as the kindly older ladies had reminded her, she wouldn’t want to go back. Their marriage hadn’t worked. End of story. She struggled to her feet. “I’m not sure what to do with you, Brian Wallace.”

      “It’s too late to pretend you don’t know me.”

      “Don’t think it didn’t cross my mind.” Before she could stand fully, he was at her side, his hand cradling her elbow, keeping her