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dirty diapers for the chance to have been around.”

“Sometimes being around isn’t all that counts.” Her gaze wasn’t judgmental, yet definitely assessing. “I’d known Kendra since we were kids, and I’d lived here almost a year before she started opening up. Even though I was certain from the start that she needed a friend.”

A friend? That wasn’t what he had in mind. It sure as hell wasn’t what his body had in mind.

He glanced at his companion, and she immediately gave him a nod, as if encouraging a tentative student. Maybe Ellyn didn’t mean friend literally. Maybe she had in mind that wall of Kendra’s.

“Sometimes she just needs persuading. And you–” Other than a glint in her eyes, her face was solemn “–look to me like a persuasive man.”

*

Marti stopped inside the door to the mudroom.

“Kendra, is he bothering you? Because if he is–”

“I called him, Marti. Asked him to come out to talk.”

“Are you sure . . .?”

“I’m not sure of anything except that as long as he wants to be a father to Matthew, I’m not going to be the one who stops it.”

“But–”

Kendra held up a hand. “I know, I know. The chances that he’ll actually stick around and be a real father to Matthew are next to none, and I’m going to do everything in my power to see he doesn’t hurt Matthew.”

She sounded grim even to her own ears. She tried to lighten her tone as she continued.

“But I have to give him some chance. I don’t know how I would explain it to Matthew when he’s older if I didn’t. Besides,” Kendra admitted, “I’m not sure you, me and Luke combined could keep him away from Matthew right now.”

“I suppose that’s the way you have to approach it,” Marti started rather doubtfully, “but–”

“Don’t worry, Marti. I know better than most how much it hurts to have a father who’s there one day and disappears the next. I’m not going to let Matthew count on Daniel just to have him disappear.”

“I know you won’t, Kendra. But I’m worried about you.”

“Me?”

“About your getting hurt by this man. Again.”

“Don’t worry, Marti. I know what to expect now. If I’d had half a brain operating during that insanity on Santa Estella, I’d have known what to expect then, too. I did know. But now the lesson’s ingrained even deeper. He’ll realize that soon.”

“So he has indicated he’s not here solely to see Matthew.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Kendra said firmly. “There’s no danger of my falling for his lies again. Not even if we got caught in the middle of another hurricane. Besides–” She tried for a rueful grin. “–to borrow from Eliza Doolittle, hurricanes hardly ever happen in Wyoming, so I should be safe.”

At last Marti’s frown lightened.

“You’re saying he wants to pick things up between the two of you, and you’ve told him no, but he hasn’t listened so far?”

“I’m saying none of that matters.”

Marti appeared uncharacteristically willing to accept that judgment. Although Kendra had the uneasy impression that the gears in her aunt’s mind were whirring overtime as they headed out.

Ben and Meg had arrived after putting away their horses in the barn and were pushing Matthew and Emily in the safety swings, to the vocal delight of the younger kids. Ellyn and Luke stood by the barn, probably talking about Meg’s and Ben’s progress as riders.

That left Daniel alone, resting his forearms on the top rail of the side-yard fence, looking in.

He appeared unaware of anything except the playing, laughing quartet of children. The lines at the corners of his mouth dug deeper, his shoulders weighed down.

“Is something wrong?”

“No,” he said slowly. “It’s right.”

Puzzled, she looked from him to the children and back. “They’re awfully noisy,” she ventured.

“Noisy, yes. But that’s not awful.”

Four kids playing. Healthy, happy, well-fed children playing. No concern for where their next meal might come from. No danger of their critical medical supplies being redirected to line someone’s pocket.

So different from the desperate want she’d seen among the children in Santa Estella. The only time she’d heard those children laugh and get excited was when they told or listened to tales of Taumaturgio. Generations would surely hear those tales of Taumaturgio on Santa Estella.

But only Daniel Delligatti carried the memories of Taumaturgio.

Kendra’s view of the children screeching with unrestrained laughter seemed to shift, as if she were seeing them through his eyes and, to a small extent, also seeing those other children through his eyes, those children of Santa Estella.

Unexpected tears burned at her eyes.

An impulse to put her arms around him, to stroke her hands over his strong back, propelled her a step forward.

No!

She gripped the top rail of the fence, appalled.

Not three minutes ago she’d told Marti how the lessons learned about this man on Santa Estella and in the years since were deeply ingrained. Then, one sympathetic exchange with him–good heavens, she didn’t even know if her suppositions were close to the mark–and she would throw her arms around him?

Maybe she needed to be more careful around him. Much more careful.

And maybe she better keep an eye on the weather forecast for hurricanes venturing into Wyoming.

*

“Now, Matthew, you stay put,” Kendra ordered once she had him encased in his bib and safely in his high chair.

“ ‘Unch!” he ordered.

“Please?”

“Pease.”

“That’s a good boy. I’ll get it right away.” Over her shoulder, she added to Daniel, “Keep an eye on him, will you? He’s taken to thinking he gets to decide when and how to uh, dismount.” She touched the faint remnants of a scratch beside Matthew’s left eyebrow. “Sometimes the degree of difficulty gets away from him.”

“Sure.” Daniel took a seat beside the high chair.

As she sliced a pear and added cottage cheese, she thought of how closely Daniel had listened and watched as she’d put Matthew in his car seat. Nearly as closely as he watched him now, as Matthew played with his toy wooden car.

“Would you like to help?” she asked on impulse.

Another impulse. But at least this one didn’t involve physical

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