Sam sat beside Marjorie, and the six of them talked and joked throughout the meal. When they’d finished, Marjorie sat on the lounge chair and cradled Shelley as though she’d been handling babies all her life. Every now and again she felt Sam’s loving gaze, and they shared a special look that said more than mere words.

“I can’t get over the way Shelley’s taken to you,” Betty commented, joining her. The weather had cleared as the lazy afternoon sun burned off the clouds.

“Marjorie’s a natural with children,” Sam said proudly. “I don’t suppose she told you, but she nearly raised her sister.”

“Sam!” she cried, embarrassed. “I’m not a natural at all.”

A sharp shake of his head discounted that notion. “She’s been around children most of her life,” he added. Studying her, his mouth curved into a faint smile. He had prayed that, given time, she would recognize most of her fears as unfounded. The mothering instinct was as strong in her as it was in any woman, only Marjorie had failed to recognize it.

She held out her hand to him, and he gripped it firmly. In many ways he understood her better than she did herself. Sometime, somewhere, she’d done something very good in her life to deserve this man.

—

Late Saturday afternoon Marjorie had changed her outfit twice, unable to decide what to wear. Sam wanted her to meet his parents. Although she had readily agreed to dinner with his family, she was a nervous wreck. She’d been in and out of clothes faster than a quick-change artist. Worse, she was convinced that his mother was bound to disapprove of her lack of domestic skills, though Sam himself had dismissed that fear.

Five minutes before he was due to arrive, she chose a soft knit dress Jody had suggested when she made a frantic call to Portland. It was more casual than anything she wore to work, and she was doubtful. This meeting was so important, and she longed to make a good impression so as not to embarrass Sam.

She needn’t have worried. His parents stepped onto the front porch when he pulled into the driveway, and they looked as anxious as she felt.

“Don’t be so nervous,” Sam said, reaching over to squeeze her clenched fist. “They’re going to love you.”

“Oh Sam, I hope so.” She forced herself to relax, uncoiling her fingers and flexing them a couple times to restore the blood flow. Normally she was able to disguise any uneasiness, but the prospect of meeting his family had completely unnerved her.

“Mom and Dad have been waiting years to meet you.”

“I only hope I’m not a disappointment.”

“You won’t be, Kitten, I promise.”