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Tresia placed two apple slices on his dessert plate then smiled at him, nodding her head toward the treats. “Try it.”

Ignoring the dessert fork beside his plate, he tried one, despite how warm they were. “It’s delicious! But hot,” he said, laughing.

Avery giggled and happily ate her Apfelku?chle . Devlin watched his daughter, thrilled that she was more like she had been before.

“Finish your milk, sweet pea. It’s time to get ready for bed.

Why don’t you go upstairs and get ready?

Pick out a new book for us to read.” He smiled gently, his gaze roaming over her little face, so much like Hannah’s, his heart skipped a beat.

“Don’t forget to wash your face and brush your teeth. ”

“Okay, Daddy.” Avery slipped from her chair but didn’t leave the room.

Instead, she grabbed Cecily by an arm, then went to Tresia, held out her little arms and hugged her.

A lump formed in his throat as he watched.

How had Tresia managed to do in just about two days what he’d tried to do for months?

“Will you stay for a bit? I’d like to talk to you.” He glanced at the coffeepot residing on the stove. “I wouldn’t mind more coffee when I come back”

“I will stay and make a fresh pot.”

He gave a quick nod, excused himself, and took the stairs to the second floor two at a time.

After he read Avery a story and put her to bed, he went back downstairs.

Stopping in the doorway to the kitchen for a moment, he just watched Tresia.

She sat at the table, fresh cup of coffee to her left, the last of the Apfelku?chle on a plate in the middle of the table.

The dishes had been done and put away, but the kitchen still smelled of coffee, apples, and cinnamon.

She also had a small leatherbound notebook open in front of her, the pencil in her hand moving swiftly over a page.

“I met Arnold at Sullivan’s Emporium today. ”

She jumped, startled, dropped the pencil in the book and quickly closed it, then pushed it away, like she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t. Her face took on a pinkish hue as her gaze rose to his. The corners of her mouth tilted upward. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? Why?”

“Arnold isn’t the nicest person—at least to me. I’m sure he isn’t happy that I quit. He’s probably blaming you.”

He laughed. “No, actually, I got the impression he blamed you.”

“That’s Arnold. He never takes responsibility for anything. He probably never will.” She took a sip of coffee, her gaze meeting his over the rim of the mug. “I’m sure he’s finding out how hard it is to run the Emporium now that I’m not there.”

Her eyes were sparkling with just a hint of what he thought might be mischief. Or maybe it was something else. He didn’t know her well enough to know, but he wanted to.

“Who is he to you?”

“My cousin.”

He walked past her to the stove, grabbed a mug from the cabinet, then poured himself a cup of coffee. “There’s apparently no love lost between the two of you, is there? Why is that?”

She waited until he took his seat before answering. “There’s no love lost between his wife, Willetta, and I either. Maybe because they both know what they did to me wasn’t right.”

His curiosity piqued, he leaned forward in his chair. “What did they do?”

She paused before she spoke, as if choosing the right words.

“Sullivan’s Emporium was supposed to be mine.

I’m not sure how it happened or why, but somehow, Arnold, and probably Willetta, convinced my father to leave it to them instead of me.

When Papa died and his will was read, the store and the apartment above it belonged to Arnold.

” She shook her head, disappointment evident in her eyes.

“I was surprised…and devastated. Not only had I lost my father and the store, but I’d lost my home as well. ”

He could tell how much that hurt her by her expression, the hoarseness of her voice and the fact that her beautiful pansy-colored eyes had lost their sparkle. He sensed the betrayal behind the words—and it was a betrayal of the deepest kind—by both her father and her cousin.

He’d heard from Merrill just how prosperous the Emporium had been when she and Lyle Sullivan ran it, and how, now, Arnold—and Willetta, whom he hadn’t met yet—seemed to be pushing customers away with their poor attitudes. That must hurt her, seeing what the store she loved so deeply was becoming.

“I had such plans for the store,” she said. “I still do.”

“What kind of plans?”

She smiled at him, a smile full of the promise of what could be. “I wanted to make it bigger. Sell more things. Invite the community to participate even more than they do now. Or did.”

“What do you mean?”

“Louise Gardner just outside of town has beehives and regularly brought me honey, which I, in turn, sold at the store. And I paid her for each jar of honey sold, taking a small commission for myself. It was the same with Olivia Cudahy. She knits beautiful hats, mittens, and scarves. I sold them for her and took a small commission for doing so. I wanted to expand that practice, but Arnold—or it could be Willetta—I’m not sure which—didn’t want to continue. ”

She stared at her cup. “Olivia was devastated when I told her I couldn’t sell her knit goods anymore.

So were the customers who came into the store to buy Louise’s honey.

I suggested they could sell their wares on their own, but they liked doing business with me.

I was fair and honest.” She seemed to have run out of words but when she looked up at him, the brightness was back in her eyes.

“Someday, I might get it back.” She gestured toward the notebook and pulled it a bit closer.

“That’s what this is for.” She opened the book to the page she’d been working on.

Even from his position across the table, he could see the swirls and curves of her neat penmanship, even a drawing at the very bottom of the page, though he couldn’t see what it was.

“Every idea for goods and displaying them goes in here.”

“And if you don’t get it back?”

Pure determination lit her expression. “I’ll get another store and make it my own.”

“Is there another place in town that you could buy or rent?”

“No, not right now, but things change every day. There may not be a place for me today, but there might be tomorrow so who knows?” She shrugged, a casual lifting of her shoulders, which moved the lace neckline of her blouse against her throat, but even that movement showed her determination and willingness to go after what she wanted.

“I may have to go somewhere else. Santa Fe. Or San Francisco. Or maybe even Chicago.”

She meant it. He could tell, which brought two things to mind.

The first was that she was ready to unsettle her life to chase a dream, unlike him who’d left everything he’d known to run away from a nightmare.

The second thing surprised him the most. Even though she’d only been in his life for two days, he couldn’t imagine her not being there.

“So if that is your plan, why did you take this job with me?”

A blush rose to her cheeks. She opened her mouth then closed it and dropped her gaze to her notebook.

For a moment, he didn’t think she would answer him at all, but then she looked at him.

“Two reasons, actually,” she said softly as her eyes darted to the ceiling and the bedroom where Avery slept.

“Taking care of your daughter, and by extension you, pays a lot more than working for Arnold.”

At least she was honest. “What was the other reason?”

Her tone changed and her eyes brightened. “Avery. She’s a sweet girl and she…needs me. I think I need her, too.”

He couldn’t agree more. Avery was starting to come out of her shell, talking more in the past forty-eight hours than she had in a long while, and for that, he was grateful.

“I should go.” She went to the sink, rinsed out her coffee cup and put it aside to dry, then came back to the table. She pushed the leatherbound notebook into her drawstring bag.

Funny thing, now that she was ready to leave, he didn’t want her to go. He enjoyed her company. Or maybe it was just her presence. She had a very calming, soothing effect on both him and Avery. He rose from his chair as well. “I’ll walk you home”

“No. You stay. I’m just across the way, Devlin. I’ll be fine. Besides, you can’t leave Avery alone even if it’s only for a few minutes.”

He did walk her out to the back porch and leaned against the railing. A full moon cast its light over everything, though some things remained in shadow. “I’ll watch you from here. Good night then, Tresia.”

“Good night, Marshal.” She smiled as she touched his hand then skipped down the steps, where she turned to address him. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He watched her walk to the end of the fenced backyard and pass through a gate he hadn’t even known was there, her stride sure and, if he weren’t mistaken, happy.

She disappeared for a moment behind the high bushes bordering his neighbor’s yard then reappeared before climbing the steps to Mrs. McMurty’s Boarding House.

She turned once more and waved, then disappeared through the door.

Devlin waited for her to close the door of the boarding house then went inside, got a fresh cup of coffee, and settled himself at the desk in the small study across from the parlor.

He pulled several sheets of paper and a fancy fountain pen—the last thing Hannah had given him—from the drawer and started to write a long overdue letter to his sister.

She, at least, needed to know where he and Avery were, but as he began writing, his thoughts, more than once, drifted to the woman who was taking care of his child and some of the things the people in town had told him about her.

Tresia Morgan was everything they said…and more. He did like her—had liked her from the moment they’d met. There was hope in her smile and possibility in her attitude, and as incredible as it may feel, he wondered if there weren’t forces he couldn’t possibly explain at work here.

He wasn’t a man given to flights of fancy, but maybe, just maybe, Hannah was smiling down at him from her place in heaven, approving of their move to Serenity and the hiring of Tresia Morgan.

He wouldn’t be surprised. For as kind and gentle and sweet as Hannah had been, she also had backbone and determination, which she had passed along to their daughter.

Would she approve of Tresia taking care of Avery?

Yes, she would have. Before he went back to his letter, he had one last thought that in another time and place, he was certain Hannah and Tresia would have been friends.