MAT FOUND NEALY in the hollyhocks a short time later. He sat beside her in the same place Lucy had been, except he was crushing part of a plant. He’d taken a quick shower and his damp hair had finger marks where he’d run his hand through it. Drawing up his knees, he propped his forearms on top and gazed over at her. “I’m guessing you’ve had better days.”

Nealy rubbed her eyes. “What’s Lucy doing now?”

“Charlie showed up to take her swimming right after she ran into the house. At first she told him she wouldn’t go, but he said Bertis was making fudge and her feelings would be hurt, so she grabbed Button and they took off.”

“You let her take Button?”

“Lucy protects Button better than the Secret Service protected you.” He straightened one leg, gazed out into the backyard of the house behind them. “And the baby needs time away from us.”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s . . .” He looked uncomfortable. “She’s getting pretty attached.”

Even though she knew what he meant, a chill crept through her. “Babies are supposed to get attached. That’s what being a baby is all about.”

“Nealy . . .”

She rose to her feet. “People are supposed to get attached.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“Nothing. Forget it.”

She walked away from him and hurried into the house. As soon as she got inside, she went upstairs to put away her clothes, anything to keep from thinking, but she heard his tread on the steps.

The bed was still rumpled, the place where they’d made love last night. Things like making beds had always been done for her, and she kept forgetting she needed to do it for herself.

He stopped inside the door. “I can’t keep those kids. That’s what you want, isn’t it? You want me to keep them.”

She grabbed the sheet and pulled it up. “You should have seen Lucy’s face when I told her who I was. She’s built this fantasy around the two of us. I know we both told her it wasn’t realistic, but she refused to believe it. She thought if she clung to her dreams hard enough, she could make them come true.”

“That’s not our problem.”

Her frustration boiled over, and she rounded on him. “What’s so great about that manly, solitary life you’re trying so hard to get back to? Tell me, Mat. What’s so great about a life that doesn’t include them?” And me, she wanted to cry. What’s so great about a life without me?

“You’re not being fair,” he said steadily.

“I don’t care! I saw Lucy’s face, and fair doesn’t do it for me right now.”

“I don’t have to justify my life to you.”

She turned away from him, busied herself with the bed. “No, you don’t.”