Mistaken Bride. Renee Ryan

of toys in complete silence. They had their backs to Bridget and were huddled close together, hands joined, bodies pressed side by side. By their size, Bridget decided they were somewhere between three and four years old.

       A range of emotions sped through her, concern foremost. Their little bodies were unnaturally still as they stared upward.

       Why weren’t they fidgeting? Or looking for trouble? Or reaching for the toys they wanted?

       Why did they seem so solemn?

       The urge to gather them close and comfort them surprised Bridget, especially since she hadn’t yet seen either of their faces to determine if her impressions were correct. They could simply be well-behaved children.

       Where were their parents?

       She looked over her shoulder. Nobody else seemed to be in the store. Concern took hold.

       But then the little girl angled her head and reached up to pull one of the dolls free. Her hand fell short of its goal. The little boy whispered something in her ear then attempted to help her, but his arm was too short, as well.

       Bridget couldn’t stand back and watch any longer. She approached the two with slow, careful steps.

       “Hello.” She plucked a doll from the shelf, one with a porcelain face behind a cloud of silvery-blond hair and clothed in a lovely, pale blue dress trimmed with white. “Is this what you wanted?”

       The child’s eyes widened. She didn’t move right away, as if afraid to touch the doll, but then she reached out and skimmed a fingertip along the sleeve.

       While she carefully inspected the doll’s clothing, the boy watched. Bridget took the opportunity to study both children. They had the same color hair, a soft ginger, the same striking features and the same arresting blue eyes. These two were clearly related to one another.

       No, not just related. Their similar size and nearly identical features, if a bit more delicate on the girl than the boy, indicated they were twins. They were as darling and as sad as she’d suspected.

       The look in their eyes captured her sympathy. This time the feeling was so strong she nearly pulled them into a comforting hug. She didn’t, of course. Such a bold move might scare them.

       Yet as Bridget continued looking at them she realized they reminded her of someone, someone she couldn’t quite place in her mind.

       She stretched the doll closer to the child. “I’m sure it’ll be all right if you hold her awhile.”

       The girl’s gaze darted over her shoulder then back again. Finally she reached out and took the doll.

       At the same moment the boy took a step to his left, away from Bridget. She gave him an encouraging smile but didn’t make a move in his direction.

       Shifting from one foot to another, he blinked at her with large, round eyes.

       Bridget lowered to her knees and placed her hands flat on her thighs. “My name is Bridget.” She kept her voice soft, her tone gentle. “What’s yours?”

       She directed the question at both children, but the little girl chose to answer.

       “I’m Olivia.” She tugged on the doll’s dress with tentative fingers. “And that’s my brother, Caleb.”

       “Well, Olivia and Caleb, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

       “You talk funny,” Caleb said, scuffing his foot back and forth on the floor in a nervous gesture.

       Bridget hid a smile at the bold statement. She loved the honesty in children, how they spoke the first thing that came into their minds. There was never any doubt as to what they meant, or how they felt.

       She thought of Daniel, how he’d hurt her with his change of mind and mean accusations and…

       This wasn’t the time to think on such things.

       “Well, Caleb,” she began, still smiling, “I suppose I talk funny because I’m not from around here. I just arrived in America yesterday.”

       “You did?”

       “Oh, yes, I came over from Ireland.”

       His little eyes rounded even more. “Where’s that?”

       “All the way across the ocean.” She made a grand gesture with her arm, sweeping it in a wide arc. “I sailed on a large boat, a ship called the Annie McGee and I—”

       The front door swept open with a bang, sufficiently cutting off the rest of her words.

       “Caleb, Olivia.” A deep, masculine voice rang out from the front of the store. “Where are you?” There was a note of worry in the voice.

       Both children’s faces brightened, but they made no move to run toward the man, as Bridget would have expected. Had they come to the store without permission?

       That hardly seemed likely, given their timid natures.

       Well, whatever the situation, Bridget would not leave them to face their fate alone.

       Reaching out, she waited for one child then the other to place their hands in hers. Only then did she rise to her full height and turn the three of them toward the front of the store as a single unit.

       After the briefest of hesitations, both Olivia and then Caleb leaned in against her legs. Their tiny weight brought such a sense of completion Bridget lost her ability to breathe for a brief moment.

       She’d always loved children, but this—this feeling of rightness, of being in the perfect place at the ideal time was entirely new. And thrilling, as though she’d finally come home.

      “Children!” The man’s hint of worry was now full of unmistakable fear.

       Yet all Bridget could think was that she knew that voice, had heard it before.

       A thousand thoughts collided together in her mind. And then, as if this meeting had been destined from the beginning of time, planned by the Lord Himself, Bridget’s mind grasped on to a single word swirling above the jumble in her head: him.

       She could feel his approach, in the reverberation of his heels striking the wooden floor, each step filled with grave purpose.

       He was heading her way.

       But she couldn’t see him yet.

       And, thankfully, he couldn’t see her. She needed a moment to prepare.

       When the rich, masculine voice called for the children a third time, Bridget forced herself to reply. “Over here, on your right, by the toys.”

       The footsteps quickened.

       She breathed in deeply and tightened her hold on the children. They responded in kind.

       Half a heartbeat passed. And then…

       He came into view. The one person Bridget hadn’t been able to get out of her mind since arriving in America. William Black.

       The moment his gaze connected with hers he came to a dead stop. Surprise registered in his eyes first. Then confusion. Followed by something she couldn’t begin to decipher.

       For several more seconds he stared at her, unmoving, not speaking.

       Bridget was stuck in a similar state of shock.

       Before either had a chance to recover, Olivia yanked her hand free of Bridget’s and lunged forward, her doll raised in the air. “Papa, Papa. Look what I found.”

      * * *

       Olivia’s excited words barely registered in Will’s mind. He struggled to moderate his breathing and calm his thoughts. But no matter how hard he tried to focus, he couldn’t fully accept that he was staring into the mesmerizing eyes of Bridget Murphy.

       She was here. In Faith Glen’s general store.

       Holding his son’s hand.