.

back. “All right,” she said. “I’ll do it, but only because I want a new computer. Don’t think you’re doing me any favors.”

      “I wouldn’t dream of it,” Zach assured her.

      “You ready to talk about my list now?” she asked, straightening abruptly.

      “Let’s leave that for later. All right?”

      She sighed in a loud, exasperated way. “I guess.” And with that she returned to her room.

      Zach’s gaze met Rosie’s, and for the first time in what felt like years, they shared a smile.

      Seventeen

      Maryellen had been feeling anxious all morning, the first day of the new year. She’d invited Jon to dinner, and to her delight and surprise, he’d accepted. Only later did she realize that she’d offered to cook a meal for a man who was a professional chef. Her expertise in the kitchen was limited to packaged macaroni and cheese and frozen entrées. With anyone else, she would’ve ordered takeout, but Jon ate restaurant food every day. She felt obliged to make the effort to cook for him.

      But the meal wasn’t even her main concern. The important thing about this dinner was what she planned to tell him.

      She wanted to change the terms of their relationship. And she wanted him to know that she treasured his Christmas gift, a photo album filled with pictures of the first four months of Katie’s life.

      Jon’s photographs revealed hidden beauty in nature, catching an unexpected pattern or a fleeting moment. But his pictures of their daughter showed far more than the changes he documented as she grew week by week. Maryellen also saw the deep love he felt for his child.

      Christmas morning when she unwrapped his gift and slowly turned the pages of the album, tears had spilled from her eyes. Jon loved his daughter, and if she’d read him correctly, he had strong feelings for her, too. Maryellen prayed she was right.

      The first picture in the album was a shot of Maryellen smiling into the camera, her belly huge with their unborn child. The next photos were of her in the hospital and then of Katie in the nursery.

      Her favorite was a picture he’d taken on the autumn day she’d gone out to his property and the eagle had been soaring high above, wings spread wide. Jon had captured Maryellen holding Katie and pointing toward the bird. He’d caught their daughter’s face in the sun, Katie’s jubilation and the soaring eagle, all in one dramatic shot.

      Naturally, with Jon’s visit at hand and her insecurity about cooking, Katie was fussy all day, interrupting Maryellen at every turn. In the end, with cookbooks spread over the kitchen counters, she decided to bake a salmon, accompanied with wild rice and fresh asparagus. Meal preparation wasn’t exactly rocket science, but just then it felt like it.

      The table was set and dinner ready to be served when Jon rang the doorbell.

      Maryellen paused for a few seconds to calm her pounding heart before she answered, arranging a welcoming smile on her face, despite her nerves.

      Jon brought a bottle of white wine and a bouquet of yellow daisies.

      “Thank you,” she said, ushering him in.

      “Thanks for inviting me.” Jon stepped into the house and stood there for a moment, looking awkward and out of place. He seemed as nervous as Maryellen. Katie sat upright in her bassinet and obviously recognized her daddy’s voice. Almost immediately she started chattering and waving her arms.

      “She’s really developing a personality, isn’t she?” Jon said. He walked over to the bassinet, lifting Katie into his arms with familiar ease. Maryellen recalled how uncomfortable he’d seemed in the beginning. That had definitely changed.

      “I’ll get dinner on the table,” Maryellen told him. She’d forgotten to remove her apron, which she immediately stuffed into a kitchen drawer. Heaven forbid he should know how hard she’d worked on this meal.

      Jon followed her into the kitchen and grinned when he noticed the number of open cookbooks.

      Maryellen’s gaze followed his. “Mom told me that the people with the most cookbooks are the ones who cook the least. That’s certainly true in my case.”

      “I’m easy to please.”

      Maryellen hoped that was true. “I’m not much good at this, so if dinner isn’t up to par, I hope you’ll take into account that I don’t do this often.” The serving dishes were already out, and she quickly transferred everything from the stove to the table.

      “Katie’s already eaten,” she said, standing at the table with her hands on the back of her chair, fingers clenching it tightly.

      Jon put his daughter back in the bassinet and joined Maryellen. She’d placed the flowers in a crystal vase; they provided a cheery accent and perfectly complemented her pale-yellow table linens. He opened the bottle and poured them each a glass as she jumped up to put on some music. When she finally sat down across from him, she offered him a shy smile. She was an emotional mess; if he said one derogatory thing about this dinner, she knew she’d burst into tears.

      Jon served her and then himself, although by this time she had no appetite.

      “I was surprised you came,” she said, not meeting his eyes. When she’d issued the invitation for New Year’s, she wasn’t at all sure he’d accept. For some reason, it seemed important to start this year off right, and for Maryellen that included a good relationship with her baby’s father.

      “I’m surprised I did, too,” Jon confessed.

      That stung. So much for flattering her ego or reassuring her. “Why did you?” she asked.

      Jon glanced up, grinning sheepishly. “You seemed so sincere. I guess I wanted to be with you more than I wanted to stay away.”

      That was as confusing as his original comment. She thought about pressing the issue, then decided against it. “Thank you for the photo album. I love it.”

      “I liked your gift, too. No one’s ever knit me socks before.”

      “Did they fit?”

      He nodded and pointed down at his feet with a smile. “Wearing them now.” She smiled back. As he reached into the middle of the table for a dinner roll, Maryellen automatically passed him the butter.

      “I wish you could’ve been with us at Christmas, but you had other plans, and I understand that,” she said, watching him for any telltale sign that would indicate where he’d been and with whom.

      To her disappointment, Jon didn’t comment.

      They ate silently for a few moments and then Maryellen put down her fork. She couldn’t swallow another bite. “I wanted you to come tonight because…because I feel I owe you an apology—for the way I behaved when I learned I was pregnant.”

      His eyes, flashing with amusement, flew up to meet hers. “I like it when you apologize. Remember the last time?”

      Maryellen had forgotten how they’d ended up kissing….

      “Anyway, you don’t owe me an apology,” he assured her.

      But she did, and she had every intention of saying what needed to be said. “Then I owe you an explanation.”

      He shook his head. “It isn’t important.”

      “It is to me.” Maryellen’s voice trembled slightly. She should probably wait until after dinner, but the need to explain felt like a rock on her chest. She wouldn’t be able to enjoy any part of their evening until she’d unburdened herself to Jon.

      “I think you know that I was married while I was in college.” She set her napkin on the table and picked up the wineglass. Her hand tightened around the stem as she took a long sip of the spicy Gewürztraminer—coincidentally one of her favorite wines. It had a calming effect on her. “Clint and I got married for all the wrong