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"We could build a fort!" Mary Ann suggested, getting caught up in the excitement.

"A really, really big one!” Heather twirled around with her arms over her head. “One that fills the whole room and has a flag on top!"

Graham's gaze met Abigail’s over the girls' heads, and the tenderness there stole her breath. This man who had fought so fiercely to protect what was his now stood before her, unguarded and achingly vulnerable in his joy.

"I do believe," Graham said, gathering both girls into his arms, "that between the four of us, we'll manage to fill this old house with more stories than it can hold."

"And chip every single wall!" Heather added with unholy glee.

The laughter that followed—bright and unrestrained—seemed to chase away the last shadows that had lingered in the corners of Abigail's heart. Here, in this imperfect room with these imperfect people, she had found something she'd never dared hope for: not merely a safe harbor, but a family.

The End?