Instead, she prepared to do what she always did. Get up, face the day, and try to somehow get through the complicated mess she’d made out of her life. There were people depending on her.

Before she could toss the covers aside, there was a soft knock at the door. Ann Sullivan poked her head in first, then smiled. “Happy birthday, Miss Laura.”

The Templetons’ longtime housekeeper stepped inside the room, carrying a fully loaded breakfast tray accented with a vase of Michaelmas daisies.

“Breakfast in bed!” Scrambling to reorganize her schedule, which had room for a quick cup of coffee at best, Laura sat back. “I feel like a queen.”

“It isn’t every day a woman turns thirty.”

Laura’s attempt at a smile wobbled. “Tell me about it.”

“Now don’t you start that nonsense.”

Brisk and efficient, Ann settled the tray over Laura’s lap. She’d seen thirty herself—and forty, and Lord help her, she’d just run smack into fifty. And because she understood just how those decades affected a woman, she brushed Laura’s sigh aside.

She had been fretting after this girl, as well as her own and Miss Kate besides, for more than twenty years. She knew just how to handle them.

Ann went to rekindle the fire in the hearth not only to chase away the January chill but to add light and cheer. “You’re a beautiful young woman with the best of her life ahead of her.”

“And thirty years of it behind her.”

Ann methodically pushed the right buttons. “And nothing to show for it but two beautiful children, a thriving business, a lovely home, and family and friends who adore you.”

Ouch, Laura thought. “I’m feeling sorry for myself.” She tried the smile again. “Pathetic and typical. Thank you, Annie. This is lovely.”

“Drink some coffee.” As the fire caught, crackling briskly, Ann poured the coffee herself, then patted Laura’s hand. “You know what you need? A day off. A full day just for yourself, to do exactly as you choose.”

It was a fine fantasy, and one that not so many years before she would have been able to indulge. But now, she had the girls to ready for school, a morning in her office at Templeton Monterey, and an afternoon at Pretenses, the shop she and Margo and Kate had started together.

Then it was a quick dash to take the girls to their dance class, time out to go over the bills and to pay them. Then there was homework to oversee, as well as dealing with any and all of the myriad problems her daughters might have encountered during the day.

And she needed to carve out time to check on old Joe, the gardener. She was worried about him but didn’t want him to know it.

“You’re not listening, Miss Laura.”