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“ A re you sure you don’t want me to walk you in?” Betsy asked, crouching down to Zippy’s level.

Zippy’s dark hair was up in two ponytails and she was wearing a pair of jeans with a basketball sweater that Baron had bought for her.

She looked adorable. But far too small to be walking into school alone. Especially on her first day.

“Betsy, we’ve talked about this,” Zippy said patiently. “You can’t be worrying about me all the time. You’ll give yourself an ulcer. I got this.”

She had this.

This kid didn’t seem to realize she was only seven. Which saddened Betsy as she knew Zippy hadn’t had much of a childhood. But Betsy was determined to change that.

Zippy might have only been with them for two weeks, but she was definitely part of the family. The twins adored her. And so did Ink.

The twins thought she was hilarious.

But Betsy was worried that Zippy was holding back her real thoughts and feelings because she didn’t feel comfortable with them.

Actually . . . she had a point. Betsy was going to worry herself into an ulcer.

“If you got to worry about anyone, I’d worry about Baron. Apparently, he’s got a Chemistry test today.” Zippy shook her head. “He’s gonna set the school on fire.”

What? He did?

The boys were in college now. Thankfully, they were only a few hours’ drive away at Montana State. But she still missed them a lot.

“It’s not a practical test, is it?” Betsy asked urgently.

“Practical?” Zippy asked.

“Like where he gets to touch things . . . things that are potentially dangerous.”

Zippy shrugged her shoulders. “I dunno. Guess so since he was really excited about it. I don’t think he’d be excited about a paper test.”

No, Betsy didn’t think so either.

Dear Lord.

Now she had something else to worry about.

“Baron will be fine,” Ink soothed, placing his hand on the back of her neck. “The school will survive. Don’t stress.”

“Yeah, Betsy. Don’t stress.” Zippy smiled at her. “It will all be fine.”

“Really?” Then she realized she was looking to a seven-year-old for reassurance.

Get yourself together, Betsy!

You’re the adult.

Sometimes she felt like she wasn’t ready to be in charge of a foster child. But she’d raised the boys.

Surely, she had this. And she had Ink to help her.

It was just that she wanted Zippy to be happy. She’d been so closed off when she’d first come to live with them.

Suspicious and watchful.

She’d opened up a lot since then. Bandit and the boys had helped a lot. It was hard to remain aloof with Baron and Royal.

“Why don’t you go home and sit down with your feet up,” Zippy told her. “You look pale. Have some chocolate milk. You like chocolate milk.”

“You like chocolate milk,” Betsy said.

The smile on Zippy’s face was far too innocent. “Oh yeah. Also, you might be out of chocolate milk. I might have drunk it all this morning.”

Of course she had. Betsy bit back a smile. “I’ll make sure there is some when you get home.”

Zippy suddenly looked uncertain before she quickly wiped that look off her face.

Drat.

Betsy wished Zippy would talk to her when she felt unsure.

It will come with time.

“You got this, Zippy?” Ink asked, crouching down.

A rush of love filled Betsy. It was hard to believe that this was her life. With this man.

Who loved her for who she was. And loved her boys. Who took care of them all with an ease and confidence that was inspiring.

A happy sigh left her and both Ink and Zippy glanced at her.

“You okay, Brown eyes?” Ink asked.

“Ah, yep. Just happy.”

“You’re happy that I drank all the chocolate milk and Baron is going to blow up his school?” Zippy shook her head. “Doesn’t take much to make you happy, Betsy.”

No. She guessed it didn’t.

“I got this,” Zippy told Ink. “Not my first day starting a new school, you know. So long as no one calls me Zipporah.”

She hated her full name.

“I’ve told the teacher not to call you that,” Betsy reassured her.

“All right. You’ve got your lunch?” Ink asked.

“Yep.”

“Know where you’re going?”

“Royal mapped the school out for me. I know where everything is.”

“Who is your teacher?” Ink asked.

“Miss Peach. Awesome name.”

“And what are you going to do if anyone gives you any trouble?”

“Punch them in the nose.”

“That’s my girl,” Ink said, fist-bumping her.

Oh, dear Lord.

Please don’t let Zippy have to punch another child in the nose.

“Have a good day, honey,” Betsy told her as Ink stood and helped her up.

They watched Zippy walk into the school. Betsy leaned against Ink, putting her hand in his.

“She’ll be fine, Button,” Ink told her, kissing the side of her head.

“I’m going to get a call from the principal if she punches another child.” Betsy rubbed at her tummy. Maybe she was getting an ulcer. “Perhaps we should have waited until after the Christmas break to enroll her. I mean, there’s only five or six weeks left.” She should really find out exactly how many weeks there were. That was something a foster mom should know.

Ink turned her toward him, cupping her face between his hands. “Zippy will be just fine. She wanted to go to school. She needs a routine and normalcy and so do you. And if there are any problems, I will handle them. Okay?”

She nodded.

“Now, we should probably stop loitering outside a school after the bell has rung,” he said with a smile. “Or they might call the cops on us.”

“Good call,” she said.

Ink opened the door to his truck and helped her in before doing up her seatbelt.

But Betsy still couldn’t help worrying as they pulled away onto the street and headed home.

“I can hear you thinking from here, Button,” Ink said as he reached over to squeeze her thigh. “Didn’t you believe me when I said I’d take care of everything?”

“I just . . . what if I’m not a good mother?” she blurted out. “I didn’t have the best role model, after all.”

“Baby, you’re already a great mother. What are you talking about? Look what you’ve done with the twins.”

“Done with the twins? One of them is about to blow up a science lab and the other one is an evil genius who will likely take over the world or build the first colony on Mars and rule it as a dictator. And let’s face it, they basically take care of themselves. In fact, most of the time I feel like they look after me.”

Ink pulled his truck over before turning to take her face in his hands once more. “Breathe, Button. Everything is fine. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

Urgh.

What was wrong with her?

“Sorry,” she whispered.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry about,” he replied firmly. “But I don’t like to see you worrying. Let me do the worrying. I have big shoulders. See? And lots of muscles.” He flexed his biceps and she giggled.

“Hey, why are you laughing? You’re not laughing at Martha and Arthur, are you?”

“I wasn’t. I was laughing at you. But now that I’ve heard what your biceps are called? Yeah, I’m laughing at them, too.”

Martha and Arthur? Those were terrible names.

“So naughty!” He reached over and tickled her until her laughter filled the truck.

“Daddy! Daddy, stop!”

He drew back and she tried to catch her breath, straightening her clothes. She’d dressed carefully for today in case she ended up going into the school with Zippy. She wanted to look nice for her teacher. So she was in a black pencil skirt and a white, billowy blouse. And her blonde hair was slicked back.

Not that she minded Ink messing her up. Sometimes, she needed to be reminded that it was okay to have fun.

Leaning over, he grasped hold of her chin and kissed her lightly. “You are beautiful. Inside and out. Always.”

That knot of anxiety in her tummy started to unravel.

“And you are an amazing mom. The fact that you’re so concerned about failing tells me how amazing you are. You worry about these kids, look after them, love them. And they are lucky to have you. Including Zippy.”

She blinked rapidly. “Do you think she’s going to be okay?”

“I know she will be.” He kissed her nose and started up the truck. “Of course, I also think we’re gonna be well acquainted with the principal’s office.”

Betsy was so deep in thought that it took her a while to notice that they weren’t headed home. She’d tried to tell Ink that they should take two vehicles so that he could go straight from the school to work, but he wouldn’t hear of it.

And now she had to wonder if he’d had a reason why.

“Where are we? Are we going furniture shopping?” The large gray building he parked in front of had tinted windows and no signage.

Strange furniture shop.

All they really needed were some pieces for their second living room and the guest bedrooms.

“No, it’s not a furniture shop.” He undid his belt and turned to her. “You’ve heard about LittleLand from Greer?”

“You mean . . . this is it? The shop for Littles?”

“Yep.”

“You have to be a member to go inside, don’t you?” she asked, feeling a bit nervous.

“I just got my membership last week.”

“So I get to go inside?” She bounced up and down on her seat.

“Yes. There’s a room in the house that needs some things to fill it.”

“My playroom?” she whispered. She didn’t understand, though. They’d moved everything from her playroom in the warehouse to a new playroom in their house. Ink had put a lock on the door so they could keep it private. Betsy wasn’t sure how much time she’d get in the playroom with Zippy in the house now. But that didn’t matter.

When the twins had moved out, she’d felt so lonely. Without a purpose. She didn’t have a proper job. She just did some website work for Ink and a couple of other businesses that their friends owned. But it wasn’t really something that took a lot of time or that she was truly interested in.

That was the problem.

She didn’t know what she wanted to do.

Not that she was using Zippy to fill a hole or anything. Betsy had thought long and hard before asking Ink how he felt about fostering. There were so many kids that needed good foster homes and she wanted to help.

But sometimes, she wished she had more direction . . . that she felt like she was contributing more to society or at least doing something helpful.

“Brown eyes?” Ink murmured. “Are you all right? We don’t have to go in if you don’t want to.”

Her eyes widened. “What? Yes, of course I do. I just . . . I’m not really dressed for a visit to a Little store.”

“I don’t think it matters what you wear,” he told her gently.

Appearances aren’t everything, Betsy.

“I don’t really need anything, though. We just moved all of my stuff over to the new house. I have plenty of things in my room. Toys, clothes, furniture. What more could I need?”

“There’s still room in the those cupboards and the closet. Plus, Daddy says you need more. And what Daddy says goes.” Ink nodded firmly as though that was that.

Betsy rolled her eyes at him.

“Did you just roll your eyes at me, Little girl?”

Uh-oh.