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“I didn’t help.”Thaddeus grinned as he continued to scratch Wally’s belly.

My dog’s tongue lolled in unbridled pleasure.

“You’re keeping Wally busy and not underfoot.That’s a very important job.”Because a bit of extra validation never hurt.

Thaddeus grinned.“That’s right.”He emphasized every syllable of every word.As if trying to prove a point.

“Why don’t you run around in the backyard while I get lunch ready?”Marcie eyed her children.

Wally perked up.He only ever received breakfast and dinner, but he seemed to react to any word that had any relation to food.

“Backyard.”Marcie pointed.

Raphael, Thaddeus, and Wally all headed through the solarium and out into the bright sunshine.

Marcie turned to her brother.“You, too.”

He cocked his head.“I figured I’d help.”

“Phillip’s going to help me.You’re going to supervise chaos.”

Even as she said the word, a yelp and a yip came through the open doorway.

Jeremy cut me a quick glance as he hustled out the door.

Truly, I wasn’t worried about Wally.Maybe I should’ve been.Maybe he shouldn’t have been left alone with the kids, even for a moment.Soon, though, peals of laughter and little yips filtered through the window Marcie had opened when she’d arrived.

Jeremy and I had kept everything shut up tight so the smell of smoke didn’t waft in.Now, though, far less of the scent lingered.

“How can I help?”I did my best not to fidget under her eagle-eyed stare.Her dark-brown eyes were identical to her brother’s, and her chestnut-colored hair was just a shade lighter.

“It’s more, how can I help you?”She pointed to the kitchen table and, more specifically, a chair.

I sat.

She grabbed a couple of potholders and moved to the oven.Within moments, she had the door open and a pan out and on top of the stove.

The aroma of rosemary chicken filled the kitchen—mixing perfectly with the fresh bread.

She headed for the fridge and pulled out a metal bowl.Then she grabbed salad dressing and a couple of small containers.She held one up.“Cheese?”

“Oh yes, ma’am.Cheese is the best.”

“It’s Marcie.Ma’am is my mother.Although she prefers Nana these days.”She smiled, “My kids love their grandparents, and that love is returned.”

“You have great kids.”

“I do.”She shook the dressing, poured it over the salad, then grabbed tongs and started mixing.“I didn’t think I’d have them.Well, more specifically, I didn’t think I’d meet someone, and in no universe was I having kids without a husband.”She met my gaze.“Then I met Darren and everything sort of…fell into place.He was the one I was supposed to be with.Now some people will tell you that’s bullshit.That there isn’tthe one,and spending your life looking for that person might mean missing someone just as good.”She shrugged.“I can see their logic.But I dated a few frogs before finding my prince.”She snickered.“And no offense to my beloved husband…” She grinned.“He looks more like a frog than a prince—and he’d be the first one to tell you that.But he’s a good man.Works hard, provides, loves me and the kids fiercely, respectful of his in-laws, cares for his parents…all the things I was looking for in a man.”She sighed.

“He sounds like a good person.”Where is she going with this?Is she trying to tell me Jeremy’s a good guy?Or is she trying to warn me off?Or maybe she thinks I’m not good enough for him?

“He’s a great person.He’s more of an introvert than either Jeremy or me.A bit of opposites attract.I can be fierce.He can be quietly strong.”

Fierce.Hadn’t I just been thinking of Jeremy in that term.

“I…uh…” I swallowed.“Why are you telling me this?”I grasped a cloth napkin and twisted it in my hands.

Marcie held my gaze for a moment before shrugging.She turned away, opened a drawer, and pulled out a long knife with a black handle and a big fork.“Because my brother can be overbearing.”She laughed even as she sliced off a piece of chicken and put it on a plate I hadn’t noticed.“Well, overbearing might be an understatement.He works in public relations because he can be circumspect when needed and a pit bull taking care of his clients when that’s called for.He’ll fight for the little guy—or gal—and call out the bullies.He always wants to be on the side of righteousness.Which, ironically, means that sometimes he has to do the wrong thing.”