Читать онлайн книгу «Her Wedding Wish» автора Jillian Hart

Her Wedding Wish
Jillian Hart
Her husband couldn't remember her Jonas Lowell, a police officer shot in the line of duty, now had amnesia.And his wife, Danielle McKaslin Lowell, had tried everything to spark his recollection of her and their young children, but he could look at his adoring wife only with a stranger's gaze. His memory of the life they shared–the future they'd dreamed of–was gone.But with a lot of faith and a sweet new courtship, Danielle's handsome husband just might fall in love all over again.



The doctors were sure his memory
would not return.
Danielle didn’t know how it could possibly be that she was a stranger to the man she’d loved so fiercely, who’d been her best friend and husband for more than seven years and the father of their two children. She hadn’t realized how much she had hoped the sight of their house would spark something for him.
There was no recognition in his eyes as he turned to her. “We live here?”
“We moved in right before Tyler was born.”
“Tyler.” Sad lines crinkled around Jonas’s eyes. “I wish I could remember my own kids.”
Tyler pounded into the room just then, threw his arms wide and wrapped them around Jonas. “Daddy, you’re home!”
Jonas’s eyes filled with emotion as he ran an awkward hand over the top of his little son’s head, affectionate and sweet and devoted.
What truly mattered hadn’t changed.

JILLIAN HART
makes her home in Washington State, where she has lived most of her life. When Jillian is not hard at work on her next story, she loves to read, go to lunch with her friends and spend quiet evenings with her family.

Her Wedding Wish
Jillian Hart


See, I am sending an angel ahead of you
to guard you along the way and to bring you
to the place I have prepared.
—Exodus 23:20

Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Epilogue
Questions For Discussion

Prologue
Danielle Lowell had never felt so cold as she followed the desk nurse along the dimly lit, tomblike corridors of the hospital. Their movements echoed along the barren walls like heartbeats—first the muted pad of the nurse’s rubber-soled shoes, and then the tap, tap of her open-toed sandals.
When she looked down, she saw, in contrast to the scuffed beige floor tiles, the cheerful cotton-candy pink of her toenails. She had painted them just this morning, both hers and her daughter’s while holding the toddler on her lap. Madison had giggled and babbled with glee. Danielle had been happy, as warm as the cheerful June sunshine.
Now, hours later, it was as if the sun had gone down forever. Her veins had turned to ice, her heart to a glacier.
An eternity had passed since that afternoon when she’d answered her cell phone to the sound of Jonas’s supervisor’s voice. She’d known it was bad news even before Rick had said the words. She’d felt a warm embrace, as if comforting arms had wrapped around her chest, as if someone was holding her tightly.
At the back of her mind she wondered if her husband was dead and she felt his spirit, his soul, somehow come to tell her goodbye. But the touch didn’t feel familiar, and maybe it was the effect of too much sun.
Either way, she knew the words before Rick spoke them. Jonas has been shot in the line of duty.
“You have ten minutes.” The nurse’s voice startled her, although she spoke in a modulated, almost whisper. “Your husband is unconscious, so don’t be alarmed. The equipment can look frightening at first. Hold his hand. Talk to him. He’ll hear you.”
“How can that be? They told me he’s in a coma. Has he woken up?” That faint hope flickered like a new flame in a harsh wind and died.
“No, he’s in a deep coma, I’m afraid. That hasn’t changed. But studies have taught us that hearing is the last of the senses to fail. Besides, I believe our hearts are always listening. His will know yours. God bless.” She led the way into the small isolated room.
Danielle stumbled at the sight of the stranger on the bed, waxy looking and motionless. Jonas. Her heart cracked and, like the edge of a glacier, sheared off.
This was her husband? Her knees failed and she hit the ground, kneeling at his side. The beep of the monitors, the ticking that marked his heart, the whir of a ventilator were out of a nightmare. She stared at the bags of fluid and drugs that hung like Japanese lanterns around his bedside. Shock took what little life was left in her.
My poor Jonas. His face was different—two already bruising black eyes, a stitched gash over his cheekbone and his hair shaved to his bare scalp, marred by a zigzagged suture line and bandages.
He looked already gone, despite the rise and fall of his chest.
Lord, don’t let him go. It was a plea that tore up from her soul. Without words, she gathered Jonas’s cool hand carefully in hers. It didn’t feel like his hand, which had always been so big and capable, and was now feeble and still.
“Don’t leave me, Jonas.” Fear shattered her. Choking on grief, she leaned her forehead against the palm of his cool hand.
What had occupied her thoughts earlier in the day—balancing their monthly budget and their minor disagreement this morning and the overgrown hedges needing clipping—slipped away. Nothing mattered but her husband and his life.
Please, Lord, don’t take him, she prayed, but she heard no answer above the noise of the machines. So she held on to him tight, as if she had the impossible strength to hold his soul to his body.
She felt arms wrap like comfort around her again, but she saw no one and nothing in the translucent light. Jonas’s pulse slowed a beat, as if his heart became aware of hers through the void.

Chapter One
One year later
Danielle slowed the minivan and turned into the driveway. As she eased her foot onto the brake she turned her attention to Jonas in the front passenger seat, a stranger to her now after his coma and brain injury. She wished she could control the quake of her pulse as she watched his face, his dear, handsome face. His forehead furrowed in thought as he studied the house in front of them—the home they’d fallen in love with together.
Oh, Lord, let him remember. It was a lot to ask, she knew. From the moment he’d woken from a deep coma and through a long stay at an intensive rehabilitation clinic in Seattle, he hadn’t had a single recollection of their lives together. All the memories they’d made together were lost to him. And without those memories, he looked at her with a stranger’s gaze. The doctors had been very sure his memory would not return.
She didn’t know how it could be that she was a stranger to the man she’d loved so fiercely, who’d been her best friend and husband for over seven years and the father of their two children. She didn’t realize how much she had hoped the sight of their house would spark something for him.
No recognition flared in his eyes as he turned to her. “We live here?”
“Yes.” The word scratched like sandpaper against the inside of her throat. She tried hard not to let her disappointment show as she hit the remote on the visor. The garage door opened. “We had the house built and we moved in right before Tyler was born.”
“Tyler.” Sad lines crinkled around Jonas’s eyes. “Is he waiting?”
“He’s not home right now.”
“Yes, that’s right.” He released a heartfelt sigh and rubbed his forehead as if it were hurting him. He looked truly distressed, but maybe the worst pain wasn’t physical. “I wish I could remember my own kids.”
“Me, too.” She eased the minivan into the garage. “My sister Katherine will be bringing them home in a little while. She was thoughtful enough to offer to take them a bit longer, so you could face things one step at a time.”
“Katherine is the one in college?”
“No, that’s Rebecca. Katherine is my older sister.”
“Oh. Okay.” He gave a wobbly half smile, half frown. The left side of his face still troubled him. “I will get it.”
“You will. Don’t worry.”
She pulled the emergency brake and shut off the engine, deliberately concentrating on each task because it was predictable and familiar. Unlike her marriage. She’d been praying for this day to come for so long, it had begun to feel unreal and impossible.
Now, after a long hospital stay and a longer period in rehabilitation, they were alone together. The garage door slid shut behind them. She was alone with her husband, the man she no longer knew. The man who could not remember the simplest things about their marriage. When he turned his questioning gaze to hers, she knew that he did not know what to expect. He remembered nothing new.
Disappointment sifted through her. She didn’t realize she was holding her breath until she felt her lungs burn. She had to remember to breathe. She had faith, and it would lift them both up, right?
Right, she told herself, fighting off a world of doubt, despite her strong belief. The journey ahead of her—of them—seemed monumental.
“Let’s go inside, and maybe once you’re in the house things will seem more familiar to you.” She grabbed her keys and her purse and forced a smile.
His dear face, the same in many ways and changed in others, stared back at her. “What if it doesn’t? I’m—” He grimaced. “I don’t know the word. I’m—” Frustrated, he stared down at his gnarled hand.
“It doesn’t matter, Jonas. It’s okay.” She wanted to believe that.
As she stepped from the seat and closed the door behind her, she realized he was still sitting in the minivan, with tension on his face and sadness in his eyes. What must it be like, she wondered, to come home to a place you could not remember? To feel the weight of a wife’s need and expectations?
She took another deep breath and opened his car door. Poor Jonas. She helped him out and unfolded his walker. His right hand gripped the walker’s handles with white-knuckled force while his left one struggled to do so. All the love in her heart flooded out, filling her with sweet tenderness. This was hard for her, but it was harder for him, and at least he was here. He was here. She was deeply grateful for that.
She slipped her purse strap onto her shoulder and her keys into her jacket pocket and took Jonas’s frail arm. “This is going to be tricky. It’s a long way to the door for you, so lean on me.”
“I can get it.” He looked so determined as he moved his nerve-damaged leg.
While the Good Lord had been gracious in bringing Jonas back to her, the bullet had not been kind. Her heart broke as he struggled so hard to cross the garage floor, even with her help. By the quiet steely set to his jaw, she could tell he hated it. Her once-strong, invincible husband, who rarely missed a workout at the gym the entire time she’d known him, was now forced to lean on her and his walker.
“Don’t tell me,” he quipped between struggled steps. “I used to do this faster.”
“Yes, you did.” Danielle unlocked the garage door. “But I always said our lives were going by too fast, we were always rushing here and there. It’s nice to slow down and take in the sights.”
He stopped to smile, and his grin was lopsided and strained. “I’m taking the, what is it, slow—something?”
“It’s the scenic route.” She hit the remote on her key ring and the security system stopped beeping. She held the door patiently while he struggled to get his walker and then his feet over the doorstep. She stopped him with a touch of her hand to his. “Look around. You made it. You’re home.”
He was silent for a moment, gazing down the hall as if taking in the details of woodwork and walls, of the living room ahead and, to the right, the archway leading to the kitchen. “The kids.”
At first she didn’t know what he meant, but then she realized he was commenting on the framed photographs marching along the wall. “Yes. These are the pictures I have taken once a year at a professional photographer.”
“That’s why they’re tidy.”
“Yes.” She looked at the carefully posed photographs with rich backgrounds. “The kids are in their best clothes. It was a challenge keeping them that clean and neat for the short drive from here to their appointments.”
“No ice cream in the car?” There was that lopsided grin again, but this time with a hint of his old smile, too.
Her heart filled at the glimpse of her husband she knew and loved so well. “No ice cream,” she agreed. “They had to wait until after the sitting. I have more pictures throughout the house, but they’re snapshots.”
“Not as tidy.”
“No. In fact, there are some very messy pictures.”
“Pictures of you, too?” His smile faded. Something serious, and maybe a little bit fearful, came onto his face.
I wish I knew what he was feeling, she thought wistfully. Once, she’d known him so well, there would have been no question. She would have known what he was thinking even before he did.
Determined to stay upbeat, she laid her hand on his broad shoulder. “Yes, there are pictures of me. And of you.”
“I want to see them.”
“Sure, but it’s going to take a long time to go through them. There are so many.”
“I’ve got time. Lots of time.”
She watched the pain on his face and didn’t know what more to say. “Down the hall is the living room. Let’s get you sitting down.”
“I need to rest.” He nodded once in agreement and set his chin. After gripping the handles of his walker tightly, he concentrated on stepping forward. The carpet absorbed most of the thunk and shuffling sounds as he painfully made his way down the short hallway. He was out of breath by the time he reached the living room. She supported his elbow as he dropped, exhausted, onto the couch.
“I’ll be right back.” She smiled at him.
There wasn’t the zing of emotional connection that had always been between them, and as she hurried to the kitchen, she fought deeper frustrations. Why had she thought things would be better once they were home?
It wasn’t fair to put so much pressure on him, she realized while she filled his favorite mug with water and zapped it in the microwave.
She needed to give him all the time he needed, no matter how hard that would be. He’d asked for pictures, and that’s where they would start. As the water heated, she grabbed a small book of snapshots from the corner hutch in the dining room. She caught her husband watching her as she came toward him.
He looked terribly serious, and she wondered if he was disappointed in her. She was painfully aware of the wash-worn jeans she’d put on this morning—the laundry was woefully behind—and the favorite summery T-shirt was hardly high fashion.
She’d been spending so little thought and even less time on her appearance. What if she looked like Frankenstein’s bride after standing all night in the rain? Worse, when was the last time she’d glanced in a mirror? Who knew what her hair was doing? And what about the big dark bags under her eyes from long-term sleep deprivation?
No wonder he was looking a little panicked. She slid the small book onto the coffee table that separated them. “These were the pictures we took on our last vacation. Maybe that will be a good place to start.”
“Vacation.” He stretched out his hand, straightening his fingers, and snagged the book from the table. “Where’d we go?”
“I’m not telling. See if you can figure it out.”
“Someplace important, then.” He watched her carefully, and his emotion was unreadable to her. “I’ll see what I can do.”
The bing of the microwave saved her. “I’ll be right back.”
She spun on the heel of her sneakers and retreated to the safety of the kitchen. This was worse than starting out on a first date with someone, she thought as she rescued the steaming mug. Back then, she’d felt comfortable with Jonas right from the start, so their first date had been familiar, as if meant to be.
But this, now with him, was painful in too many ways to count. She plucked a bag from a tea box and dropped it into the water to steep. In the next room, she could hear the slight creak of the photo album’s binding and the first squeaking turn of the plastic-coated pages.
She’d spent hours on that book—before Jonas’s accident she’d been a serious scrapbooking fanatic. It had been the last project she’d finished before he’d been shot. She didn’t dare think about the others in progress stuffed in the back of her downstairs craft closet. Yikes. Considering the importance of those pictures now, maybe she should find the time to finish them.
After dunking and squeezing the tea bag, she added a teaspoon of honey. It was silent in the living room, so she peered around the kitchen corner just enough to see him on the couch. Jonas, her husband, looked different from the man he’d been—his hair was too short, his big physical frame no longer imposing or strong. Yet there was much that had remained the same—that tensile, decent goodness of his that she loved so much.
Her heart filled, watching as he studied the first page. His face lined with concentration, he lifted his right hand—he used to be left-handed—and ran his finger across the plastic-sheathed page. Emotion welled in his eyes, and she felt it like a bolt of lightning. Stricken, she pulled back into the kitchen, longing, just longing for everything to be all right. For the pieces of their lives to be put back in place.
She hurried about, putting his favorite chocolate cookies on a plate. By the time she’d loaded everything on a small tray and carried it into the living room, Jonas had leaned back onto the couch and had the book open on his knees.
He looked up with a grin on his face. “That sure smells good.”
“I hope so.” She slid the plate onto the coffee table first and then handed him a soft cookie.
He paused before he took a bite. “I liked the ones you sent in the box.”
When he’d been in rehabilitation, she’d sent weekly care packages, when she hadn’t been able to make the long trip to Seattle. “The oatmeal-raisin cookies didn’t break when I shipped them,” she explained as she eased beside him onto the couch. “I was saving these for a homecoming surprise.”
He took a bite. “Good. Very good. I like them.”
She knew he wouldn’t remember they were his favorite, or that she’d made them all the time for him when they’d been dating. That he’d said—oh, her heart cracked deeply remembering—
“I can see why I married you.” He held up the remaining half of the cookie. “Why? What did I say?”
The room suddenly blurred, and she shook her head, blinking hard. She reached for a cookie. “That’s what you used to say before you proposed to me.”
“Yeah? What else can you make? Maybe I’ll have to propose again.”
There was that ghost of his grin. How good it was to see. She relaxed against the cushions. “You’ll have to wait and see. What do you think of the pictures?”
“I sure got a pretty wife.”
“Now you’re just trying to get more cookies.”
“Sure, but it’s true.” He took another cookie from the plate with his awkward fingers. “I’m a lucky man.” He tapped the page with his knuckle. “What’s that?”
“Mom and Dad’s RV. It’s a motor home.” When he stared at her uncomprehendingly, she explained, “You drive it and sleep in it.”
“We did?”
“Handsome, you drove that monster.” She didn’t suppose he remembered their half affectionate and half not-so-affectionate name for the vehicle that had been hard to park and harder to maneuver along narrow roads. She leaned close to get a better look at the page.
The digital pictures, which she’d printed off on the snazzy little photo printer her twin sisters had given her for her last birthday, showed them starting out from their driveway. She looked at herself and groaned. Even with Madison on her hip, her tummy problem still showed. Goodness. She sighed. Otherwise, the snapshot looked great. Tyler was grinning wide, practically a blur of motion. “It had been almost impossible for Tyler to stand still for a single moment. He was so excited that morning.”
“He looks happy.” Jonas swallowed, as if he were struggling with emotions. “Everybody did.”
“It was your first vacation all year.” Somehow, remembering made her heart warm, made the distance between her and this new, different Jonas less cumbersome. “You got everyone up early, you were so excited to go, and made everyone breakfast before we left. It was wonderful, and a little easier on me.”
“You make breakfast?”
“Just about every morning.” She didn’t add how, that long-ago morning, he’d hugged her so tightly and sweetly and whispered in her ear how glad he was to be able to spend the next two weeks with her. Then he’d set the timer on the camera and rushed back to the steps to scoot in next to her, and tickle Tyler so he was laughing when the timer went off.
Maybe he would remember that in time, she hoped. “Turn the page and you’ll see—”
She waited while he fumbled with the thick plastic edge. She hated how hard he had to work to turn the page and she waited, not knowing if it would hurt his pride worse to have her help, but he finally managed it on his own. His strong beautiful hand was slightly bent and twisted, a condition that the neurologists thought would gradually disappear. She resisted the urge to take his fingers in hers and massage them, as if she could rub that partial paralysis away.
“I’m driving.” He looked surprised. “I had hair.”
“Yes, and it will grow back.”
He looked sheepish and nodded. He studied the page for a long time. They were the photos she’d taken from the front passenger seat of Jonas driving away from their home, of Tyler wearing his fireman hat and strapped into his seat, grinning ear to ear, and of Madison yawning hugely in her car seat. Her soft brown curls were like a cloud around her button face. Danielle felt full to the brim. Her family. Her loves. Her everything.
When Jonas turned to the facing page, his lopsided smile widened. Happiness lit his eyes. He tapped the page where they’d pulled over to the side of a small-town street. In the cluster of small pictures, Jonas was holding his son’s hand, so small in his big capable one, and they stood side by side watching a hawk perched on a high branch of a tree. Another picture showed Tyler’s little face staring trustingly up at his father—so vulnerable and good and sweet.
Jonas swallowed visibly. “I don’t want to—” He stopped, as if searching for the word. “I don’t want to—” He shook his head. Lines of frustration and misery dug into his handsome face. “I can’t think of the word.”
She laid her hand on his and felt the warm unyielding band of his wedding ring beneath her palm. “I’m glad to have you home, Jonas. If you’re worried about disappointing us—”
He nodded. “That’s the word. I—” He shrugged helplessly, unable to say what was in his heart.
But she knew. Even as injured as he was, she would always know her husband’s heart. “You’re here. That means more than you know. The rest of it—the remembering, everything—it will get easier.”
Relief passed across his face and he nodded once, his gaze fastened on hers. She hadn’t realized how much he needed this, too, to be here, to try to find their normal lives again. She watched as he touched the snapshot with Tyler gazing up adoringly, full of awe and love for his dad. Jonas cleared his throat. “I don’t want to disappoint.”
“Tyler just wants you to love him. It will be all right.”
He nodded and looked away, unreadable, like a stranger once more.
Danielle took a shaky breath and removed her hand. She waited as he turned to the next page, studying the picnic they’d had at a small park along the way, taking in the sunshine beneath the awning of the RV, laughing and sunny. She hadn’t realized how perfect their lives had been at that moment, with Madison messy and fussy and Tyler hyper from being buckled in for the morning, and the weight of worry and responsibility nagging at her. She would give nearly anything to have her husband look at her now the way he did in the photo, as if he knew her better than she knew herself and loved her, every shortcoming, every flaw, every strength.
“This is a good book.” Jonas tapped the picture he’d taken—and didn’t remember—of her buckling in Madison, who was in the middle of struggling, chubby arms reaching toward her daddy. “I can see a lot.”
She was glad she’d taken the time to make the album, the careful cutting and pasting, the rubber-stamping and gluing and framing, the glitter and cutouts and ribbons. These memories and pictures were more important now than ever. She’d originally started the books so that they wouldn’t forget the good times and the small details about the kids—they were growing so fast!—but now it had a larger purpose. To remember where they’d been. For what could be again.
The front door opened, and the security system chimed an announcement.
“Hello?” Her older sister Katherine’s voice echoed in the foyer over the sound of running little-boy feet. “Anybody home?”
For a nanosecond, Jonas’s gaze found hers, the panic raw and honest on his face. So many expectations, because Tyler didn’t know his daddy couldn’t remember him. They had decided together that it wouldn’t be right to hurt him that way, to rock his security like that. So, the little boy who pounded into the room, his brown hair sticking straight up, only knew his daddy had been hurt and was now home to stay. Excitement lit him up like a lightbulb as he threw his arms wide and wrapped them around Jonas.
“You’re here! Daddy, you’re home!” Tyler didn’t let go but laid his cheek on his dad’s wide chest and grinned up at him. “Aunt Katherine brought nachos and Mexi-fries just for you.”
Danielle knew that the man beside her no longer knew the significance of their inside joke of Mexi-fries, but that didn’t matter. Jonas’s eyes filled with emotion as he ran an awkward hand over the top of his little son’s head, affectionate and sweet and devoted.
What truly mattered hadn’t changed.

Chapter Two
Danielle walked into the kitchen and saw her sister. Katherine had Madison on her hip and was unloading two bags of food from their favorite Mexican take-out restaurant.
“Mommy!” Madison’s arms shot out and she thrust herself through the air, trusting her aunt had a solid hold on her.
Danielle came to her rescue as Katherine held the half-prone princess. Her little play tiara was askew, sitting crooked in those soft light brown curls, and Madison was bright with happiness. Danielle wrapped a secure arm around her daughter and hefted her onto her hip.
“They’ve both been wound up all day.” With her sleek blond locks, girl-next-door loveliness and great clothes sense, Katherine was cover-model gorgeous, even four months pregnant. She reached out to straighten Madison’s tiara. “Jonas is in the living room?”
“Yes, Tyler is with him. He’s been waiting a long time for his daddy to come home, poor baby.” She set Madison to the floor and the little girl immediately spun around and stretched both hands toward the out-of-reach counter.
“Gotta get my phone!” she singsonged, while her aunt produced the plastic pink cell phone from the collection of stuff on the counter. “There you go, sweetie. Dani, you look tired. Are you feeling a little worse for wear?”
“And a little short of time. Know where I can buy a few more hours to add to the day?”
“I wish I did, believe me. I’d be the first one in line.” Katherine wrapped her in a hug. “You’ve been going hard all day, which is what I figured. That’s why I brought dinner. It’s a little earlier than your normal suppertime, but I thought you’d be too tired to fix a meal.”
“Could you be more wonderful?” Danielle thought of all that her sister had done for her, and not only Katherine, but her entire family—her brother and sisters and her parents, not to mention her church family. “Like you don’t have enough to do?”
“My Jack wasn’t hurt in the line of duty.”
“Thank God for that.” Danielle prayed for her brother-in-law every day. Katherine’s husband was also a state trooper; Jonas had helped his childhood friend Jack get his job when he moved to Montana last year.
Such violence, like the kind that touched their family, wasn’t common in this part of Montana, but no place was immune, it seemed. The silver lining in this dark time was seeing for sure there was much more good in the world—in people—than bad. “Kath, thanks for taking the kids and for thinking to pick up dinner. For everything.”
“No problem. I wish I would have had the time to make you a real dinner, but there’s a youth group basketball game tonight. Jack stayed behind to help Hayden get ready.”
Danielle adored her sister’s stepdaughter. Hayden was thriving, active in their church and excelling at school, which was done for the summer. “She’s starting tonight?”
“Talk about excited. She’s worked so hard. I know she’s going to do well tonight as a starter.”
“Then you don’t want to miss the tip-off. You’d better be going.” Danielle laid her hand gently on her little princess’s small shoulder. Madison, chatting away, grinned up at her and kept prattling. “What time’s the game?”
“Not to worry.” Katherine swirled to the sink and turned on the tap. “I’ve got a little bit of time before I have to leave. I might as well make myself useful here. Why don’t you take your little one in to see her daddy, sit down and spend time with your family? Your whole family. Together.”
“I know. It’s almost unbelievable. I’ve been praying for this for so long, I can’t believe it’s finally here.”
“It puts a different meaning to the word blessings, doesn’t it?”
The four of them together in the same house. Danielle’s throat ached with gratitude. How very easily this moment could have never happened.
Katherine washed her hands and reached for a towel. “Oh, I can hear Tyler.”
They both strained to listen to the little boy in the neighboring room, his voice clear and sweet. “Daddy, that’s the picture where you hit your knee when you was climbin’ up the steps, and you hopped around. Your whole foot tingled so Mom had to drive until we saw the moose.”
“You remember all that?” Jonas asked in his resonant baritone.
“Yep. I remember lotza stuff. I got lotza brains.”
Danielle put her hand over her mouth to hold in the giggle.
“Go on.” Katherine’s eyes were sparkling with mirth as she dried her hands. “Get back to your husband. I’ve got it covered here.”
“I owe you. Expect retaliation when you least expect it.”
“Oh, that would be wonderful. You know how I love your lasagna.”
“I know.” One evening soon, she’d make sure to pay back Katherine for her thoughtfulness tonight, but it couldn’t be enough. Nothing could be. It had been twelve long months that her entire family had been rallying around her and pitching in with the housework and the child care. As much as she appreciated it—and she did very much—the weight of the guilt over inconveniencing them choked her. It was time to start paying back.
She put her hand on her daughter’s soft downy head and gently turned her in the direction of the living room. They went a few paces before Madison suddenly stopped chatting, wrapped one arm around Danielle’s knee and dug in her heels.
Strange. Danielle knew that the little girl hadn’t seen Jonas since their brief trip to Seattle for Christmas. “C’mon, baby, let’s go see your daddy.”
“No.” Madison dropped her phone and buried her face in her hands.
Danielle knelt down—which was awkward since Madison still had one arm tightly around her knee—and realized Jonas was watching them from the couch. Tyler was camped down beside his dad on the cushion, his feet tucked beneath him, shoes and all.
“C’mon, Madison!” Tyler called out. “Mom made the fudge cookies.”
“Fudge cookies?” Madison spread two chubby fingers to peer out and verify the truth of her big brother’s claim.
And right before supper, too, Danielle thought. “Only one, both of you, or you’ll spoil your dinner.”
It was tough being the mom, because she had to face Tyler’s groan and Madison’s gasp of distress at such news. She gently nudged her daughter forward a step. “Go on, sweetie. Tyler has a cookie for you.”
“No.” Madison removed one hand from her face, held up two fingers, reconsidered, and held up three, which meant she wanted three cookies. Her adorable little chin jutted.
Danielle knew that look. Ah, the terrible twos were such a joy. She took a breath and gathered her courage for the impending battle—knowing she’d come out unpopular in the end—and then she felt Katherine’s hand on her shoulder.
“She reminds me of someone,” Katherine said innocently. “Who could it be?”
“Not me.” Danielle started to laugh, even as she denied it. “I’m not stubborn and never have been.”
“No, not you,” Katherine agreed, laughing, as she opened the refrigerator door.
Yep, her mother had warned her this day would come. She figured the best way to deal with having a daughter just like herself was to embrace it. She unwrapped Madison from her knee. “It’s too bad you don’t want a cookie.”
“No! No! Bring me some!”
Danielle sighed and turned her back, unable to ignore the fact that her sister was silently laughing as she gathered condiments from the refrigerator.
“Just you wait,” she told Katherine as Madison’s outrage was about to start. “This is what babies turn into.”
Not that she minded, but Madison could really scream—a sound best avoided. “I’m going to have to invest in some earplugs.”
“Or something.” Katherine was still laughing.
“Hi there, Madison,” came Jonas’s deep and gentle voice from across the room. “You want a cookie?”
Danielle turned to see their daughter’s reaction. Madison’s face, red with the beginnings of a typical two-year-old tantrum, scrunched with thought. Her chin stayed up a notch, and slowly she shook her head side to side.
“No!” Madison uttered that word with impressive force. She held up four fingers.
“Suit yourself,” Jonas said, good-naturedly. “Tyler and I will eat ’em.”
Madison’s jaw dropped in surprise. She’d been startled out of her tantrum.
As Danielle knelt to retrieve Madison’s plastic pink phone, Jonas’s gaze fastened on hers. She smiled a thank-you to him, and he nodded in acknowledgment. By the time she’d handed Madison her play cell, Jonas had gone back to studying the album.
His steady baritone was warm with kindness as he asked their son, “What’s this here?”
Tyler, brimming with happiness, pointed to the picture. “That’s where we got to make a campfire. And we had to make sure we had buckets of water and dirt ready in case it went out of control, so we didn’t start a forest fire.”
“You did a good job.”
“Yep, I did. I made sure there was no forest fires! Then, after we did the s’mores—”
“Mores?” Jonas asked, and was rewarded with Tyler’s explanation of the huge s’mores they’d made together, the biggest ones in the whole world.
Danielle heard Katherine behind her.
“It’s going well,” Katherine whispered, and there was a smile in her voice as she padded by on the way to the dining room table.
It was going well. She took one last look at her husband and son, side by side on the couch, already buddies again. No matter what they’d lost, and with the remaining challenges of Jonas’s injuries still standing between them, they had a little bit of their normal family life back.
Lord, this means everything. Thank You.
Danielle straightened Madison’s pink rhinestone tiara before she opened the closest cabinet door and counted out enough plates for everyone. Madison stood in place, watching her father with wide staring eyes.
“Want to go in and see your daddy, sweetie?”
She shook her head, still staring.
Katherine returned from the dining room and took the plates. “She’s still shy around him?”
“I suppose that’ll eventually stop.” Danielle pulled out knives and forks and then closed the drawer with her hip. “Pastor Dan said to not force anything, especially with her so young, but—”
“It will be just fine. Look at Tyler.” Katherine scooped the bags of food from the counter. “He’s practically floating he’s so happy.”
“He is.” Danielle smiled across the width of the house, where Jonas had gone back to watching her again. “This is Katherine.”
“Katherine,” Jonas repeated. “The older sister.”
“Yes, that would be me.” Katherine began passing the plates around the table. “I’m not staying for very long,” she told him. “Tomorrow you’ll meet all of us. Are you ready for that?”
“Ready.” Jonas nodded once with his lopsided smile.
“We’re a scary bunch, but not dangerous.” Katherine smiled at him. “Jack, my husband, is looking forward to seeing you again.”
“Jack. Jack from up the street in Glendale.” Jonas smiled. “I was the new kid in third grade and he let me play basketball with him. I can remember going to high school and driver’s education and all kinds of things like that. But not this.” He looked around him.
Danielle saw the pain in his eyes when he turned toward her. “It’ll come, Jonas. One step at a time. I have faith you will remember everything. You just can’t push it. You’d better come to the table, both of you. Do you need help?”
“I can do it.” He put down the photo album and began to struggle with his walker.
Tyler, such a good little boy, grabbed the walker by the handle. “Let me help, Dad. I’m real strong.”
“Real strong,” Jonas agreed, kind even when pain lined his pale face. “Thanks, buddy.”
Danielle’s vision blurred and she finished setting the table. The man toiling with his walker, scooting forward one slow step at a time, reached the table exhausted.
“I’ll let myself out,” Katherine said quietly from the kitchen. “Jonas, I’m going to keep praying for you.”
“Th-thank you.” He looked weary as he eased into the chair.
When she laid her hand on his big shoulder, Danielle could feel the tension corded up like hard ropes. How difficult this had to be for him, coming to a home and a life and a family he could not remember. He was weak and wounded and not the man he was. He must have been able to see that, she realized now, seeing himself in the photo album.
A downside she hadn’t anticipated.
Aching for him, she left her hand on his shoulder and kept the contact between them. “Goodbye, Kath, and thanks again.”
Katherine glanced over her shoulder as she snagged her designer purse from the counter. “I’ll see you all tomorrow. Good night, and, Jonas, it’s so good to see you home.”
Danielle felt her husband nod in acknowledgment, but her heart was too full of emotions too complicated to sort out. Tyler was climbing into his chair at the table, and Madison was mutinously—although adorably—running after her departing aunt, then looking at her parents, who were not acknowledging her mutiny, and her lower lip stuck out farther.
“All right! Mexi-fries!” Tyler pumped his fist in victory. “I getta say grace. Can I? Please?”
“If it’s all right with your dad.” It felt fantastic to say that again, but Jonas only looked at her bewildered, as if he had no idea why it would or wouldn’t be his call. So she answered in his place. “I guess it is. Let me get Madison to the table.”
“No.” Madison looked pretty determined as she studied her father. She clutched her cell phone tightly.
“C’mon, ple-eeeeese.” Tyler was about to burst with so much excitement. “Daddy, she’s been like this a lot. I’m tryin’ to be a good big brother, but it’s hard.”
“I can see that,” Jonas said quietly with a wink.
Not willing to scoop the child up and risk a meltdown, Danielle knelt to size up the situation. “Don’t you want Mexi-fries?”
Madison bobbed her head once in a serious nod. Her tiara winked as it caught the overhead light.
“Then come to the table, princess.” Danielle held out her hand, palm up, hoping for a little toddler cooperation.
Madison turned her serious gaze to her daddy on the far side of the table. “I wanna sit by yew, Mommy.”
Over the top of their daughter’s head, she could see the hurt on Jonas’s face. As little as Madison was, she knew there was something different—much different—about the father who’d come home to them. Tyler was too excited to truly notice, but would his security be blown apart when he did?
I’ll cross that bridge when I get there, she reminded herself. Prayer, tonight, would help as it always did. With the Lord’s grace, perhaps Jonas would recover quickly enough that Tyler wouldn’t realize it. Jonas had already defied the doctor’s dim prognosis so far. Yes, she decided, steeling her spine, she would rely on her faith. God would make this right.
“I’ll scoot your chair closer to mine, how’s that?” Danielle waited for Madison to consider this. When the toddler placed her sticky little hand on hers, Danielle sighed with relief. One tantrum avoided. “Good girl. Let’s get you up. Look at Tyler. You’re making him wait.”
“Hurry, Maddy,” Tyler added, helping out. “We’re all gettin’ shorter. We need Mexi-fries now!”
A family joke, but Jonas’s forehead furrowed as if he were trying to make sense of that. She’d tell him later about the joke of how the deep-fried Tater Tots kept a person from shrinking, she thought, as she buckled Madison in.
The instant she dropped into her own seat, she could feel the exhaustion in her muscles and bones. She folded her hands and bowed her head just in time, for Tyler was already saying—or more accurately, shouting—grace.
“Thanks for the eats, Lord! God bless us every one!” Tyler, proud of himself, added, “Amen!”
“Volume, kiddo,” she reminded him after she’d added her own amen. “You don’t need to shout. God can hear you just fine.”
“Yeah, but He’s all the way up in the sky. When Uncle Spence was on the roof cleaning the gutters, remember how loud I had to talk so’s he could hear me?” Tyler helped himself to the tub of Mexi-fries. He dumped a generous portion on his plate. “The sky is really far up.”
How could she argue with that? She took the tub from him and added Mexi-fries to her and Madison’s plates, before she realized Jonas’s plate remained empty.
“I’ll help you, too,” she said quietly. “Let me get the kids dished up.”
He looked away, his eyes veiled, his face like stone. Tyler was chatting away, trying to decide from the options of tacos and nachos and burritos. Madison talked over the top of him, wanting her “taccas.”
As she unwrapped Madison’s chicken soft taco and cut it into quarters, and then helped Tyler search through the bags for the tacos that were his, she tried to keep the sadness from her heart. She’d known it would be like this. The doctors had been clear and had been warning her through the long journey of Jonas’s recovery.
Everything had changed. There were no more loving looks across the table between them, and no more knowing looks that meant they were storing up cute things the kids were doing to be talked about and laughed over afterward. There were no mutual conversations about his day at work or hers at home with the kids, the way there always used to be. There was just silence and the typical noises that came from having two small children at the table.
She hadn’t realized the depth of their love, and the importance of the meaningful bond that linked her spirit to his, until it was gone. Until there was nothing but silence between two strangers, with their children between them. That meant the love they’d shared was gone, too.
She quietly circled the table and unwrapped the two chicken burritos for Jonas and added a heap of Mexi-fries to his plate. Her footsteps echoed in the silence as she retraced the path back to her chair.

“No! No! No! No—ooooooo!” Madison’s declaration of independence rang in the main bathroom at high enough decibel levels to break city ordinances. “I kin do it!”
Danielle slumped onto the closed lid of the toilet, dripping wet from helping her daughter with her bath. The steam had frizzed her hair, and she felt wilted as she rested her face in her hands. Steam swirled around her, driven by the current from the door swinging open and a half-clad Madison pounding across the hall to her bedroom. There was a yanking sound as she dragged open the lower drawer in her little white dresser.
“Mom? Are you okay?” Tyler asked from the doorway.
She pasted a smile on her weary face and rose to her feet. “Absolutely. It’s your turn, tiger. Would you fetch a clean towel and washcloth from the laundry room for me?”
“Okay!” He ran out of the room and down the hall.
“Don’t run in the house,” she reminded him and listened for his stampede to slow a bit.
She forced her feet forward, wondering how the rest of the evening would turn out for her and Jonas. They would be alone for the first time, and she was feeling nervous about being with him. It made no sense, and she didn’t like the way she was feeling. But there it was, the hard ball of anxiety stuck in her midsection.
The evening had passed pleasantly with Tyler’s little-boy energy and Madison’s cute chatter. Jonas had sat in the living room with the kids while she’d cleaned up the kitchen. The kids were so busy and active, they’d unwittingly filled up the first half of the evening. But now, the last half was looming ahead of her and she was at a loss as to how to face it.
She turned on the bathwater and adjusted the temperature before adding Tyler’s blue-colored bubble bath to the rising water. Madison shrieked with glee across the hall, and while Danielle hesitated in the hallway wondering about Jonas, the sight of her half-dressed daughter digging out every last item from her bottom drawer took precedence. “You are troubles, bubbles.”
Madison grinned, showing off her dimples. “I want my Ella pants.”
“Sweetie, you definitely need pants.” Danielle knelt and gave the pink Cinderella pajama shirt a tug at the hem to straighten it. “You got that on all by yourself?”
“Yip.”
“You’re a good dresser.”
“Yip.”
Danielle sorted through the items on the floor, folding them as she went. No sign of the matching pajama pants, so she tried the middle drawer. There they were, right on top, in all their pink glory among the folded-up socks. She chased Madison, caught her and helped her into the ruffly pink bottoms. There. One kid almost done for the day.
First, she had to turn off the bathwater, then she began turning back Madison’s bedcovers, not sure if Madison was going to give an argument or not.
Tyler’s footsteps preceded him down the hall. He poked his head into the room. “Daddy’s sleepin’,” he said, then thundered into the bathroom.
Sleeping? She knew Jonas hadn’t made the trek down the hall to their bedroom yet. He would have had to pass by the bathroom and the kids’ rooms. Did that mean he’d fallen asleep on the couch? “Okay, prayers, cutie.”
Madison bent to her knees and steepled her little hands. Her tiara slipped forward—yes, it appeared she was still wearing it—and Danielle removed it as she knelt down beside her. She listened while Madison said her prayers and tucked her in with a kiss.
“My story, Mommy?” Madison used her puppy-dog look, rendering her completely impossible to say no to.
“Let me check on Tyler and your daddy first. You stay right there, okay, bubbles?”
“Yip.”
A quick glance into the bathroom told her that Tyler was safe and sound, covered with bubbles and busy playing with his floating fire tanker that shot water all over the tile. She reminded him to remember to wash before padding down the hallway, where she found Jonas stretched out and sound asleep on the couch.
The poor man. He had to be exhausted. Danielle hit the power off button on the TV remote and circled around to lift the warm fleece blanket off the back of the couch. He didn’t stir. She’d wake him up later, after she got both kids put to bed. For now, she shook the blanket out and gently covered him.
Help him find his way back to me, please, Lord, she prayed in the darkness. She kissed her husband’s forehead and tiptoed from the room.

Chapter Three
“Sorry.”
Danielle glanced up from pouring Jonas a second cup of morning coffee. “What are you sorry for?”
“Falling asleep.” He didn’t look at her as he concentrated on wrapping his hands around his spoon. Long months of hard rehabilitation had helped, but his motor skills were still limited.
She popped open the top of the flavored coffee creamer and poured it for him and then added some into her own cup. “It was a big day for all of us yesterday, with you coming home.”
“You’re dis-disappointed.” He stumbled on the word.
Since she couldn’t admit that, not without hurting him, she set the carafe on the ruffled blue place mat at Tyler’s empty place and slipped into the chair. “Are you?”
He gulped. “Could be easier.”
She nodded, seeing now what she’d been too busy this morning to notice, getting Tyler ready for the church summer program and keeping Madison out of trouble. Jonas had managed to dress himself in a sweatshirt and jeans, but the sweatshirt hung on him, twisted to the left. His feet beneath the table were in socks, not shoes. “I should have helped you more this morning. I’m sorry. I won’t forget again.”
“You helped enough.” Jonas straightened his shoulders, as if his pride were involved, too. “The kids first.”
“Yes. That’s what we agreed back in Seattle, but—” She stared down into her steaming mug, unable to find any answers in the dark depths. She’d let him down, and that’s the one thing she didn’t want to do. Somehow she had to figure out a way to manage everything on her own. “It’s going to be difficult for a while, but I don’t mind working hard for you, Jonas. For the kids. For us.”
He swallowed hard, as if her words mattered to him, and turned in his chair toward the wall. “Our wedding pictures.”
“Yes.” She looked at them, too. How young and carefree they seemed back then. On impulse, she rose and plucked the collage frame from the wall. “There are some of the reprints I framed up from that day. I should dig out our wedding album. It’s in the closet somewhere out of reach, for safekeeping.”
“You’re smiling. It must have been a good day.”
“One of the best of my life.”
She laid the gold frame on the table, and he moved his coffee cup aside to make room. As they leaned forward to study the pictures together, she smelled the scent of his shampoo and the soap on his skin. Her heart cinched a notch. Yes, she thought, tenderly, he was still her Jonas. “If you notice, you’re smiling, too.”
“Yep. I look pretty happy.”
“You were.”
She touched her fingertip to the glass frame, where they’d just parted from sharing their first kiss as man and wife. Hand in hand, they stood smiling, facing their family and friends with the jeweled light from the sun-drenched stained glass gracing them. Their happiness was palpable, so shining and new. “I wish you could remember how that felt to finally be married. To be together with the whole world at our feet.”
“Was our marriage good?”
She noticed the concern in his eyes, the sadness on his face and the wonder. It was not fair that one bullet had stolen so much from him. At least she had the memories of their love. At least she knew what they could have again. “It was very good.”
“We were close.”
“Yes. Very close.”
He nodded once in acknowledgment but not in understanding.
How did she tell him that was her greatest fear? That they might never find one another again. They might never again share that rare close bond they’d had. Grief stabbed deep into her soul, and she fought it away. She had to keep her faith strong and believe that God would not forsake them. “We were best friends. Best…everything.”
“E-very-thing.” Jonas lingered over that word, as if he were trying to figure out what that meant. He remained bent over the pictures.
She moved away and took the carafe with her to rinse in the sink. All around them, hung on the walls or in stand-alone frames or snapshots tacked to their refrigerator, were photographs of their life together, of the babies and of the kids growing up. Of a happier time—her soul ached with sadness for the loss of that happy, innocent time when Jonas was whole.
It wasn’t fair to keep wishing for the past, she thought as she turned to the sink, rinsed out the pot and slipped it into the top rack of the dishwasher. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jonas struggling to stand, his attention focused on one of the photographs on the wall. She leaned a little to see what he stared at with such fascination. Her heart stopped when she recognized the picture. It was of her, propped up in a hospital bed, exhausted from forty-one hours of labor and cradling their precious son in her arms.
He did not remember that day, she realized, or how happy they were and how proud he was. She closed the dishwasher quietly, feeling reality settle into the damaged places in her heart.
When he looked away, she saw his eyes were silvered with tears. Tears that did not fall as he blinked them away and straightened his shoulders. Strong—that was her Jonas, always strong.
“I’ll help you to remember,” she promised him with all the strength and faith in her soul. “It’s going to be all right.”
In the corner, untouched by the sunlight that tumbled through the big picture window, Jonas nodded. He didn’t look as if he believed her. Not one bit.
There was a knock at the front door—the quick tap-tap of her mom’s signature knock. Already her key was in the lock and the doorknob was turning. The security system chimed as the front door swung open. Danielle straightened, turned off the faucet and reached for the dish towel to dry her hands.
“Knock, knock. Hello!” Dorrie’s smile was bright, as always. She was a wonder and an incredible mother.
Danielle knew she paled by comparison. “Come on in. I just washed out the coffeepot. I can make fresh.”
“I had my morning quota, my dear. Jonas, it’s great to see you home—” Her pleasant voice was drowned out by Madison shouting from the living room.
“Grammy! Grammy! Grammy!” Bare feet padded on the carpet and then on the linoleum as the little girl—today a mermaid—burst into sight, flinging her arms wide and wrapping them tightly around her grandmother’s knees.
“Hi, honey. Are you going to let Grammy take you to your swimming lessons?”
“Yip. I kin blow bubbles and kick!” Soft brown curls tumbled over her shoulders as she leaned her head back to grin up at her grandmother.
“I can’t wait to see. Do you have your bag all packed?”
Danielle chimed in. “I got it half-finished. It’s on the foot of her bed, I just have to grab a towel.”
“I’ll do that. No worries. What time is Jonas’s appointment?”
“Nine-thirty.” Danielle glanced at the clock on the stove. “We should leave in a few minutes.”
“I’ll finish up here, too. That’s why I’m here, to help out. I’ll have lunch all ready when you get back. Jonas, I hope you still like tuna casserole.”
“Y-yes.” Jonas was struggling with his walker to get around the table. His left leg was very stiff.
She resisted the need to run to his side. For him it was a matter of pride.
He ambled toward her, but his gaze was on their little daughter, in her mermaid shirt and matching pants, her soft curls and sweetness.
“Madison,” he said. “I like to swim, too.”
The little girl’s eyes widened, and she sidled around to hide behind her grandmother. She stared at Jonas and didn’t say anything at all.
Danielle couldn’t breathe for the pain in her heart. Madison had Jonas wrapped around her little finger since the moment she’d come into the world.
Jonas shuffled forward, but it was the sadness in his eyes that both kept her silent and that gave her hope as he eased alongside his walker. He had one hand on the edge of the counter and the other on the walker’s grip.
“You don’t like this?” he asked the toddler, nodding at the metal appliance.
From behind her grandmother’s knee, Madison shook her head again, scattering her soft curls. “No!”
“Me, either.” He took a shaky step away, unsteady as he shuffled forward without much support.
She was across the kitchen, holding her husband’s elbow without thought, but he didn’t lean on her. No, no matter how much support Jonas needed, he would not do that. He did allow her to keep him steady at this crucial moment as he went a few uncertain inches forward.
Their little girl took a cautious step out from behind her grandmother, looking relieved the scary metal thing had been left behind.
Jonas leaned forward and held out his hand, a father’s devotion sincere and quiet. He waited while Madison bit her bottom lip, debating the merits of approaching her daddy now.
When Madison looked up to her, Danielle nodded and smiled. “It’s okay, honey,” she said and scrunched down a bit to be more at the toddler’s level.
Encouraged, Madison took a step toward her daddy. “Why you got that?”
Jonas’s smile was wobbly and looked relieved. “Because my leg doesn’t work so well. But it’s gonna be better.”
“Oh. Okeydokey.” Madison laid her hand on his, studying him trustingly. “You gonna come see me swim? I kin kick real fast! Jest like a mermaid.”
“I’d sure like to see that sometime soon.”
“Yip.” Madison grinned hugely. “C’mon, Grammy! I shew you my towel!”
Danielle rose to full height as the little girl grabbed her grandmother by the hand and pulled her through the kitchen. She was thankful, deeply grateful.
She turned to Jonas, who waited until Madison was out of sight before he grabbed for the edge of the counter. She tugged his walker to him, holding him steady. He looked too tired from the effort and his leg was shaking, but his smile was pure Jonas.
“This is going to work out just fine,” she told him, certain of it now. “You wait and see.”

“I brought my toolbox,” Dad said in his gruff, good-guy way as he shouldered through the front door and stomped his boots on the entry rug. “Figure the boys and I can get a few things done for you around here.”
Danielle looked up from the counter where she was peeling carrots for the salad. Her burdens lifted at simply seeing her father—her stepfather, who’d adopted her when he’d married her mother long ago. Gratitude filled her right up. She couldn’t have a better father, and she loved him. “Dad, this is supposed to be a celebration dinner. You shouldn’t be doing work around here. We can worry about things getting done later.”
“Nonsense. You know me. I’m not happy unless I’m busy.” He winked, and his smile was good-natured as always. “Might as well make myself useful while I’m here. And what about you, missy?”
“What about me?”
He set down his toolbox against the entryway wall. “You sure you ought to be in here working like that? Your mother isn’t gonna be happy if she and the kids come back from the grocery store and see that you aren’t taking it easy like she told you to.”
“I’m fine, Dad. Really.” She smiled to prove it to him. “You know me. I’m not happy unless I’m busy.”
He shook his head slowly from side to side and, judging by the squint to his friendly blue eyes, he wasn’t fooled one bit. “Jonas resting?”
“He fell asleep on the couch. He had a tough physical therapy session.” Not to mention the doctor appointment before that. “Let me get you something cool to drink, Dad. It’s a scorcher out there.”
“Looked like it was trying to storm to me.”
“Storm?” That couldn’t be good news. She hadn’t had time to check any weather report. Apparently she’d been too busy trying to get a start on dinner prep to look out the big garden window over the sink and counter.
Now that she did look, she saw thunderheads were gathering on the horizon. Huge ones. That might not bode well for their backyard picnic. And for her not to have noticed, well, it only went to show how tired she felt.
Great. She squared her drooping shoulders and put down the peeler. “I’ll get you some iced tea.”
“I’ll do it myself, missy.” Dad ambled her way, still a big man despite the fact that he’d passed retirement age. “But I will take one of those brownies. They smell awful good.”
Danielle reached for a clean knife and joined him at the opposite counter to cut him a generous piece. “You’re going to spoil your appetite.”
“Yeah, I know.” Dad was smiling as he tore a paper towel from the dispenser and held it to use in place of a plate. “No one anywhere makes a better brownie than you. You even got Ava beat.”
One of her younger sisters, Ava, was a professional baker. A high compliment, but one she’d heard before. Plus, Dad was generous with compliments. She kissed his cheek. “Why don’t you go put up your feet? If you don’t want to disturb Jonas, you can use the TV either in the basement or in our room.”
“No, I don’t mind bothering Jonas.” Dad winked as he strode out of sight. The faint rumble of his voice in the living room told her that Jonas must have woken up.
When she peered around the corner to check on him, he had straightened up on the couch. Now sitting up, he was sleepy-looking and pale, but he seemed glad of the company. That had to be a good sign, right? She worried about the evening ahead. Her family—bless them—had dearly wanted to see Jonas again. But was he up to so much at once?
Well, they would find out. She hoped so. She wanted him to see that he wasn’t as alone as he had to feel. She leaned her shoulder against the archway to watch as Jonas talked with her father, someone else he didn’t remember. But within moments they were both smiling and talking like old friends.
Great. She blew out a breath of relief and went back to her carrots. The men’s voices rumbled pleasantly as she finished peeling and dug the pitcher of iced tea out of the refrigerator.
The house was relatively quiet without the little ones—Mom had taken them with her on her grocery run. She missed Tyler’s constant motion and Madison’s constant chatter underfoot. And thinking of the kids made her remember how it used to be—how Jonas would always hang around the kitchen and help her, grazing on whatever was handy to snack on.
Hard to imagine, since Jonas and her dad had once been close.
There was a knock at the front door, a few quick, no-nonsense raps and then a key turned in the lock. Spence, the oldest of the clan, poked his head in. “Hit the garage door opener for me, would ya? I’ll get the front yard mowed before Dad thinks of it.”
“Thank you, Spence.”
“Don’t mention it.” He shut the door firmly.
The oven timer chose that moment to beep. She hit the off button, snagged an oven mitt from the closest drawer. She knelt to lift the casserole pot of baked beans from the oven and onto a trivet on the counter. While she heard Dad and Jonas talking, she tried not to focus on her husband’s halting words—that halting was worse when he was tired, she’d learned. She ached for him.
This was not fair. She had to lay aside her anger at the desperate gunman who had fired that shot. Jonas hadn’t deserved that, and yet it had happened just the same. She rushed around to the inside garage door and caught sight of him on the couch—struggling to find the right words while Dad waited patiently.
No, she thought, her heart heavy. This was not fair. Surely there was some good that would come out of this—some good the Lord would find in all this hardship. But for the life of her Danielle couldn’t figure out what. She yanked open the inside door and hit the button.
The churn of the opener’s engine drowned out the sound of her husband’s voice. As the door lifted, there was Spence, in T-shirt and denims, storming into the garage like a hulk. His grimace was hardly a grimace at all, which meant he must be in a very good mood. He grabbed the lawn mower and wheeled it out into the driveway. The roar of the engine coming to life echoed in the garage.
Talk about a reliable guy. Danielle loved her brother. She couldn’t have a better one—or a better family, and she thanked the Lord for them every day. She’d just hoped there would be less need for their help after Jonas’s homecoming. They’d done so much. They had to be exhausted, too.
She heard the air conditioner click on and felt the swirl of cooled air against her ankles and shut the door, leaving it unlocked so Spence could find his way in after his mowing. She remembered the kitchen work awaiting her. She wanted to get it done so that her mom didn’t have any choice; she couldn’t help with dinner because it would already be done. Mom had done more than her share already.
It was Jonas’s voice, low and sonorous, that made her stop halfway to the kitchen. Seeing him so changed still hit her hard every time.
“Is that right, John? Yellowstone, you say?”
“Yep,” Dad was saying. Always brief on words but long on heart. “You said the RV drove real fine. Yep, real fine.”
“I’m sure it did. Don’t remember it.”
“Well, it did.”
Jonas noticed her standing there and it was hard to tell by the look on his face if he was glad to see her or not. When he looked at her, he had to feel more pressure to remember. And that was the last thing she wanted. He had pressure enough.
“Dani.” Dad turned in the chair and winked at her. “I’m gonna take Jonas with me.”
“What? Where?” Jonas looked confused. Maybe a little panicked.
He might not remember that she was always on his side. That she would never forsake him, even when it came to her own family. “Dad, Jonas might not be up to working with tools yet.”
“Tools?” Jonas’s eyes widened in surprise.
He could not know that it was a family thing, he and Dad and Spence, always eager to fix what was broken. He would not remember how it used to be, that when Dad assumed Jonas’s help in all kinds of family construction projects, Jonas would find a moment to come up to her and lean close so that only she could hear. He would say in that affable way of his, “I don’t remember getting my draft notice.”
No, Jonas did not have any idea how they would chuckle quietly together before he would go off to help her dad.
Now, Jonas seemed uncertain, but when he looked down at his hands she realized why. After so much nerve damage, he could not handle carpenter tools. What could she do to reassure him? “Dad, you give Jonas a rest on this one. He’s recuperating. He can watch if he wants to and keep you company, but it might be better if he rests.”
“Yep. Gotcha.” Dad nodded once and rose to his feet as if that were settled. “Well, what do you say, Jonas? You want to come keep an eye on me?”
“You need it.” Humor glinted in his hazel eyes, and his lopsided grin could not be dearer.
Danielle felt hope buoy her. “I’ll bring back some tea for both of you.”
“Thanks, missy.” Dad scooted Jonas’s walker closer within reach. “C’mon, son, we’ve got work to do.”
“Yes, sir.” Jonas struggled to his feet and winked at her over the top of her dad’s head.
Danielle practically floated to the kitchen, full of gratitude that her whole family was together again.

Chapter Four
Over the noise at the dinner table, Danielle heard her grandmother lean over to Jonas and say, “How is it that you are still so handsome?”
A blush pinkened his cheeks, making him even more good-looking. “Just luck.”
That made Gran chuckle in that light, joyful way of hers.
Danielle looked up from cutting Madison’s hot dog, and her pulse turned heavy, as if she had peanut butter in her veins. Could he be remembering? Just luck. That was what Jonas always used to say whenever Gran would ask that question. Wouldn’t that be perfect if he did remember? If he did defy the doctors’ dim prognoses for his memory loss, too?
“Mommy?” Madison tugged on her sleeve to get her attention. “I wanna biiig piece of cake. Pleeeease?”
“No, not yet and you know it, princess.” Danielle scooped a generous spoonful of the potatoes au gratin that Katherine had brought. “I know you want these.”
“Taters!” The little girl agreed cheerfully and flashed her dimples, confident that she was adorable and had more than one person’s attention at the table.
Katherine peered around Madison’s head on her other side. “Let me take over for you. I would love to and I’m closer to the taters.”
“Thanks.” Danielle handed over the cartoon character, child-sized fork.
It was wonderful to see her sister so happy. Marriage suited her, and Jack was the right kind of husband—good, strong and loving, a man who always did the right thing. It was another of her prayers answered. And as she scanned the table, she saw nothing but a testimony to that wondrous power. Katherine wasn’t the only newlywed sister at the table.
There were her younger twin sisters. Ava had Brice at her side, chattering away to him and to Tyler. Amusement and love mixed together as Brice watched her with a besotted grin on his face. They’d married in the spring, and Ava was always the happy sort, but she practically shone like the sun these days. Love and married life had transformed her.
Aubrey, although identical to Ava, couldn’t have been more different. She was quieter, and so was her husband-to-be, William. Their love was a tacit statement that still waters ran deep. Their wedding was coming up soon, and they had included the kids in their wedding party.
Lauren, home now from California, was finishing her master’s in business at the local campus. She and Caleb had married last month in a sweet May ceremony that had been as low-key and as lovely as Lauren herself.
“Mommy! Guess what?” Tyler called out across the table.
She blinked, drawn out of her thoughts. She focused on her little boy’s face and recognized that wide-eyed excited expression. Ava and Brice had been talking about their dog to him. “What?”
“If I had a dog, do you know what? Then Rex wouldn’t be lonesome when he came over here.”
Rex, the mentioned golden retriever, popped his head up from beneath the table to shine his puppy dog eyes on her.
Help, she wanted to plead silently to Jonas, but that bond between them was no longer there. She couldn’t look at her husband and have him know instinctively what she needed. He would not be coming to her rescue. She sighed, lonely. How could she be otherwise? She missed her husband. “We’ll talk about a dog later, cutie.”
“Yeah, but…I gotta lot of reasons why we should get a dog.” Tyler looked so hopeful.
“I know. You keep making that list, okay?”
“Yeah.” He breathed out a long sigh. It was hard being a kid and dogless.
Across the table, Spence nodded to her, as if in agreement. He was not fond of dogs, especially near the table. Poor Spence. He had a good heart but had a hard time letting it show. It was no surprise to his family or anyone who knew him that he hadn’t found a woman who could look past the gruffness to the sweet man inside. And, if he kept going, she was afraid he never would.
But it was the empty chair next to Spence that troubled her. Rebecca—the youngest—was late. Again. And, as experience had taught them all, that could only mean one thing—trouble with that boyfriend of hers, Chris. What if this serious relationship took a more serious turn? It was something that turned Danielle’s stomach cold. Chris was the kind of young man who seemed nice—there was never anything specifically he’d done that made her dislike him. Except for the fact he was not entirely nice to Rebecca.
Rebecca, who saw only the good in everyone, couldn’t see it.
Gran’s merry voice broke into her thoughts. “Jonas, they tell me you aren’t remembering things so well. You’re not alone, boy. It happens to the best of us. Do you remember me?”
“Nope. Not a thing.”
“Then you don’t know how you and Dani met.”
“N-no. I do not.”
Danielle plainly read the shame on her husband’s face. She placed her hand on his shoulder, still so wide and strong. “Gran likes to think she’s the reason we’re together.”
Jonas quirked his brow. “That so, Gran?”
The elderly woman, so rosy and dear, chuckled warmly. “Your marriage is a testimony to the power of prayer. My husband was still with me back then, and one night, when we were just back from snowbirding in Scottsdale, we met with Ann and Silas Donovan, Brice’s grandparents. We were all in the same boat. We had grandchildren but no great-grandchildren. I saw this as a totally unacceptable situation, so I decided to take it to the good Lord and start praying.”
“Is that so?” Jonas didn’t seem to understand that it was their marriage, and their firstborn son, who’d been that long-awaited great-grandchild.
“You’d just moved into the rental house on Caleb’s grandparents’ property just down the road,” Danielle explained, remembering that sweet summer they’d met.
“That so?” He grinned. “I lived down the road from Gran?”
“You did.” He’d always called “Gran” by her first name, Mary, but she didn’t correct him. She reached for his knife and began to cut into his barbecued chicken. “It was this nice little two-bedroom house with a perfect view of Gran’s horse pastures, where I rode with Aubrey every morning.”
“I see.” He still couldn’t tell the twins apart, and looked at Ava, who was giggling away at something Tyler was saying. “It’s my guess I took one look at you and decided to take you to dinner.”
“And you were awfully confident about it, too.” Danielle felt the cold places within her warm like that June morning. She wished he could remember how that day had changed both of their lives for the better.
“Confident? What did I do?” He watched her blankly, his gaze searching her face. A stranger’s gaze.
But he was no stranger to her. Gone was the memory they shared of how she’d first set eyes on the young, strapping twenty-two-year-old Jonas, so handsome and friendly and good. She’d been afraid to trust him. Repeating the heartbreak of her mother’s first marriage had been her fear back then—her natural father had been violent to her.

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