Butterfly Summer. Arlene James

an embezzlement scheme by one of their most trusted employees, who also happened to be a good friend of Jeremy’s.

      “Yeah, well, I’m having another,” Melissa retorted, striding rapidly from the room, ostensibly headed for the vending machine down the hall.

      Heather suspected that she just couldn’t bear the pressure any longer. Melissa resembled Amy in looks, both having inherited their blond hair and enormous, doelike eyes from their mother. But unlike Amy, who at thirty was senior managing editor of the family-owned Nashville Living magazine, twenty-three-year-old Melissa was something of a wild child.

      Christopher, Heather’s twin brother, rose to his full six-foot height and crossed the room to their mother, whom he enfolded in his muscular embrace. With his dark, wavy hair and burly build, he couldn’t have looked less like Heather if he’d tried, especially when wearing his policeman’s uniform. Something about that dark-blue suit of clothes, with its gun belt and tools, added consequence to his already impressive stature, especially when he was standing next to their petite mother.

      “Amy’s right,” Chris told Nora. “No matter what the doctors have to say, everything’s going to work out for the best.”

      Nora nodded. “God takes care of His own.”

      “No doubt about it.”

      The door opened at Nora’s back. She and Christopher stepped aside to allow the doctors into the room. One of them, an older man with thinning steel gray hair, Heather had never seen before. He had to be the specialist Luke Strickland had called in from Nashville. Dr. Strickland himself was well-known to them. In his midthirties, with dark hair and eyes, the tall, handsome, charismatic physician had quickly won the respect and trust of the entire family.

      It was Dr. Strickland who swept his gaze over the family. “I’ve just spoken with Wallace, explained our diagnosis and outlined our treatment options.”

      Heather glanced at Amy, a knot of dread coiling tight in her stomach.

      “How bad is it?” Tim demanded, but Jeremy stepped forward, forestalling any reply.

      “Hold on a minute, Luke.” At a lean six feet and two inches, Jeremy was the tallest of the three Hamilton brothers. He had the same dark, wavy hair as the other two, but instead of brown eyes, his were a vibrant, piercing blue. The eldest at thirty-five, his calm, confident manner and quiet, evenhanded leadership had made him a favorite at Hamilton Media. Yet he and Tim seemed eternally at odds. “Melissa needs to hear this, too. Give me a minute to get her in here.”

      Tim rolled his eyes, obviously impatient with the delay. Fortunately, Melissa walked into the room just then. She took in the heavy atmosphere and threw out one hip, a soft-drink bottle clutched in one hand.

      “Are we having a wake or what?”

      “Melissa!” Tim scolded.

      Melissa immediately colored. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

      Jeremy tossed Tim a look and laid a hand on Melissa’s forearm, effectively quelling both before nodding at Dr. Strickland.

      The younger doctor folded his hands and spread his feet slightly, balancing his weight. “I want you all to understand that the treatment options for your father’s condition have greatly improved in the last few years.”

      Nora closed her eyes at that foreboding announcement. Jeremy immediately crossed the room to stand beside her and Christopher. Amy rose from the sofa, the fitted jacket of her stylish suit pulling taut across her slender shoulders as she folded her arms protectively. Heather tucked her hair behind her ears and hid her trembling hands in the voluminous folds of her full skirt.

      Please, God, she prayed. Please. Oh, please.

      “How bad is it?” Jeremy asked softly.

      Luke Strickland swept the room with his dark, compassionate gaze before nodding to the other doctor. The specialist took one small step forward, lifted his chin and changed all their lives.

      “Your father has leukemia.”

      Chapter One

      The door into the corridor opened and Dr. Luke Strickland strode through it, bristling with purpose. In the weeks since Wallace’s diagnosis, Heather had come to greatly appreciate the good doctor’s utter devotion to his profession and his deft bedside manner. She couldn’t help thinking that the Hamiltons and the Davis Landing Community General Medical Center were blessed to have him, despite the fact that he again wore that carefully blank expression which she had come to dread.

      “Is everyone here?” he asked without preamble.

      Timothy stopped his pacing long enough to frown. “All but one—as usual.” Tossing out his hands, he demanded of no one in particular, “Where is Melissa?”

      “You didn’t seriously expect her to show up, did you?” Jeremy asked mildly.

      Tim fixed his brother with his intense brown gaze and lifted an eyebrow imperiously. “Today, considering what’s at stake, yes.”

      The pair were often at odds, but these days they just couldn’t seem to keep from butting heads, whether over Hamilton Media or the family itself, and Heather quickly moved to intervene in her own mild-mannered fashion.

      “I called her cell before I came up in the elevator. No answer. I don’t think she’s coming.”

      “Well, that’s just great,” Tim grumbled, folding his arms.

      “It’s probably for the best, actually,” Heather offered quietly. She glanced at her twin, Chris, expecting and receiving his silent support. “You know Melissa doesn’t do hospitals well.”

      In truth, Melissa had been edgy and distant ever since their father’s diagnosis. More often than not, she seemed to try to escape her problems rather than face them head on, and that appeared to be the case today. That was an issue that would have to be addressed at another time, though. Heather decided that she would have a private talk with her baby sister as soon as the opportunity presented itself.

      “I suggest we just get on with it,” Amy said pragmatically.

      Her senior by three years, Amy was also Heather’s boss at the magazine. Unlike Tim, though, Heather didn’t mind yielding authority to an older sibling. Amy was everything that Heather herself was not, a high achiever, self-assured, even forceful, not to mention well-groomed, stylish, graceful. In many ways, she was Timothy’s female equivalent, except that she had been blessed with their mother’s beauty and was blond and blue-eyed, whereas Tim was dark like their father.

      Heather, on the other hand, was just…Heather. Mousy, meek and quiet, stuck in the middle, always living too much inside her own head and content to be there.

      It had always been that way. Even in high school, Heather had been the sister who’d disappeared into the woodwork, while Amy had been elected homecoming queen and most popular. Heather had persecuted herself with envy back in those days. Eventually, however, she’d come to accept that God had a different role for her.

      As a result she’d managed to avoid jealous feelings for their beautiful blond, but troubled, baby sister. The others considered Melissa overly dramatic and rebellious, which she could be, but Heather sensed a deep well of pain in her, especially lately. Then again, their father’s illness had shaken them all.

      Dr. Strickland led the way from the sitting area into the bedroom of the hospital suite, with Jeremy, Tim and Amy following in that order. Heather and Chris crowded in behind them. Their mother stood at their ailing father’s bedside, looking decades younger than her husband of thirty-five years, which just pointed out how very ill he was. Heather went straight to Nora’s side and squeezed her hand.

      During the weeks of her father’s hospitalization, Heather had grown even closer to her mother. She supposed it was natural since she and Nora were often the only ones rattling around the house these days, especially after Vera Mae, their housekeeper and cook of many years,