“I want her to be comfortable.” Brianna centered the vase of tulips on the dresser, changed her mind, and took it to the flute-edged table by the window. “She’s coming all this way to meet us. I want her to feel at home.”

“As far as I can see, you’ve cleaned the place from top to bottom twice, brought in enough flowers for five weddings, and baked so many cakes and tarts it would take an army to eat them all.” As she spoke, Maggie walked over, twitching the lace curtain aside and staring out over the hills. “You’re setting yourself up for a disappointment, Brie.”

“And you’re determined to get no pleasure out of her coming.”

“Her letter accepting your invitation wasn’t filled with excitement and pleasure, was it now?”

Brianna stopped fluffing bed pillows she’d already fluffed and studied her sister’s rigid back. “She’s the odd one out, Maggie. We’ve always had each other, and will still when she’s gone again. Added to that she lost her mother not a month ago. I wouldn’t have expected some flowery response. I’m happy enough she’s decided to come at all.”

“She told Rogan’s man she didn’t want anything to do with us.”

“Ah, and you’ve never in your life said something you reconsidered later.”

That brought a smile tugging at Maggie’s lips. “Not that I can recall, at the moment.” When she turned back, the smile remained. “How much time do we have before we pick her up at the airport?”

“A bit. I need to nurse Kayla first, and I want to change.” She blew out a breath at Maggie’s expression. “I’m not going to meet the sister I’ve not yet set eyes on in my apron and dusty pants.”

“Well, I’m not changing.” Maggie shrugged her shoulders inside the oversized cotton shirt she’d tucked into old jeans.

“Suit yourself,” Brianna said lightly as she started out of the room. “But you might want to comb that rat’s nest on your head.”

Though Maggie curled her lip, she took a glance at herself in the mirror above the dresser. An apt description, she thought with some amusement as she noted her bright red curls were snarled and tousled.

“I’ve been working,” she called out, quickening her pace to catch up with Brianna at the bottom of the steps. “My pipes don’t care if my hair’s tidy or not. It’s not like I have to see people day and night like you do.”

“And it’s grateful those people are that you don’t. Fix yourself a bit of a sandwich or something, Margaret Mary,” she added as she breezed into the kitchen. “You’re looking peaked.”

“I am not.” Grumbling but hungry, Maggie headed for the bread drawer. “I’m looking pregnant.”

Brianna froze in midstride. “What? Oh, Maggie.”

“And it’s your fault if I am,” Maggie muttered, brows knitted as she sliced through the fresh brown bread.

Laughing, Brianna swung over to give her sister a hard hug. “Well, now, that’s an intriguing statement, and one I’m sure medical authorities worldwide would be interested in.”