“Hey, are we gonna get some help in here?” Trevor, the more hotheaded of the twins, yelled.

“Duty calls.” Jarrod was already halfway there. “Hey, kid. How about giving your uncles a hand?”

Josh, hearing the commotion had poked his head out of his room. Upon spying Katie’s half-brothers, he joined in and forgot to cast his mother a disparaging glance before he helped unhook the dryer. Katie mentally crossed her fingers that he’d forgive her.

As the men handled the bigger items, the beds, couches, tables and chairs Katie kept filling boxes from the few cupboards that she hadn’t already cleared out.

“I can’t believe how much junk you’ve got,” Trevor observed on one trip to the truck. “Can’t you get rid of half of it?”

“Didn’t have time for a garage sale.” She carried a kitchen chair to the loading area at the rear of the big truck. “Besides, I don’t like living as spartan as you.”

“Easier that way.”

Nathan laughed. He handed an end table to Jarrod who was standing inside the truck. “Yeah. Trevor thinks that a person can get by with a bedroll, a mess kit, and a television.”

“Don’t need much more,” Trevor said, his hawkish features identical to his brother’s. The difference in the twins was in their temperament. Nathan was steadier and levelheaded while Trevor was the hothead, always ready for a fight.

They finished loading and the house was nearly empty. Jarrod, Nathan and Josh rode over to the new place in the truck while Katie, with Trevor in the passenger seat and Blue in the back, followed in the Jeep.

“This is gonna be weird,” Josh said, once they’d parked and everyone began unloading the furniture. Josh commandeered Stephen’s old room while Katie set up her home office in Christina’s bedroom.

Josh was right; it felt strange to see her bed and bureau in Tiffany’s old room and stranger still to look out the window at the carriage house where Luke Gates lived. As she instructed her brothers on the placement of chairs, tables and lamps in the parlor, she noticed the ashes in the grate, testament to her afternoon of lovemaking with Luke. Their two empty wineglasses stood next to the once-full bottle of Merlot on the hearth.

Images of making love with Luke, of his corded muscles gleaming in the firelight, shot through her mind.

“Looks like someone had themselves a private party,” Trevor observed as he and Nathan carried in a bookcase.

“That it does.” Quickly Katie reached down, picked up the goblets and bottle, and hoped the back of her neck didn’t look as warm as it felt.

Trevor didn’t let up. “I wonder who—”

“Hey, pay attention!” Nathan, who was holding one end of the bookcase, wasn’t in the mood for conjecture.