“I wanna see!” Christina wriggled unsteadily on J.D.’s shoulders until he helped her down to the floor. She scurried ahead of them through the open door of the house and clambered up the stairs. The airy kitchen smelled of dried herbs and wildflowers that were bunched and hung from the exposed beams overhead. Artwork, schedules and old report cards decorated the refrigerator while a rack of copper pans was suspended over a center cooking island.

“I’ll bet the boys are gonna love her wanting to get in on the action.” Tiffany opened the refrigerator and hauled out a pitcher of iced tea.

“If they’re like my brothers,” Katie said, “they’ll lock the door and tell her that because she’s a girl she’s not allowed inside. It’s a plot by all older brothers to mess up their younger sisters’ self-esteem.”

“Didn’t seem to take in your case,” J.D. observed as Tiffany poured them each a glass.

“Careful, Santini, you’re outnumbered here,” Tiffany warned him as she sliced a lemon and dropped wedges into the drinks. She handed Katie her glass and waved her into a chair at the table. Leaning thoughtfully against the counter she asked, “So, are you ready for the wedding this weekend?”

“Can’t wait.” Katie took a long sip of tea. “How about you?” She pressed the cool glass to her forehead as Tiffany settled into a chair.

“I’ll be okay, I guess. I’m thrilled for Bliss and Mason, but . . .” She let her voice trail off as she took a swallow of cold tea.

“Don’t tell me,” Katie guessed. “You’re still having trouble dealing with dear old Dad.”

Small lines of concern appeared between Tiffany’s eyebrows. “Let’s just call him John.”

“Okay, so the fact that John Cawthorne is going to be there is bothering you.”

“Not only that he’s there, but that he’s giving the bride away.” Tiffany sighed and, resting her chin on her open palm, stared through the window. “It . . . it brings it all out in the open again.”

Katie knew what her half-sister was talking about. The situation had been painful for everyone involved. John Cawthorne had sired one daughter out of wedlock and hadn’t bothered to marry the girl—Tiffany’s mother. According to Tiffany, there was no love lost between Rose Nesbitt and John Cawthorne. But he hadn’t finished fathering daughters. He’d married a woman named Margaret from San Francisco and she’d borne him a second daughter—the legitimate one—Bliss.

Not one to ever be satisfied, John had started living a dual life—part of the year in Seattle with Margaret and Bliss, the other down here in Bittersweet where he met and fell in love with Brynnie Anderson, who, in between several husbands, carried on an affair with Cawthorne. As luck would have it, Brynnie, who already had three sons, got pregnant with John’s third daughter. However, Katie had always assumed her father was Hal Kinkaid, her mother’s third husband, whose name she was given. No doubt about it, the family situation was one tangled mess of relationships and emotions. “So, what’re you going to do when you and J.D. get married?” Katie asked.