“I might be.” She cupped his face in her hand and kissed him. “Seamus, my love, every new parent feels the way you do. Outmatched, overwhelmed, certain that disaster is looming around the next corner. Those boys have suffered a terrible tragedy. There’s no way around that. But you’re their silver lining.”

“We are.”

“You are. I’ll give them everything I have to give, but you… You’ll teach them how to be men, and if they’re even half the man you are, you will have done an amazing job.”

“Awww, Caro, that’s a sweet thing for you to say.”

“It’s the truth. What happened to their mom is a terrible stroke of bad luck, but they got lucky the day you decided we needed to be there for them. They may not know it yet, but someday they will.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“When have you ever known me not to be right?”

“Um, how about the months you spent pushing me away when you knew we were meant to be?”

“Other than that.”

“That’s a pretty big other than.”

“Shut up and kiss your wife.”

“My sassy wife, you mean.” Since there was truly nothing else he’d rather do than kiss his wife, he did as he was told like the good husband he was. And as he did every day, he gave thanks to whatever higher power had brought her and her good sense into his life.

They were in for one hell of a challenging ride with their boys, but Seamus was confident that with her by his side to make sure he didn’t screw it up, they’d do right by Kyle and Jackson.

Lizzie James was up before the sun on Sunday morning. She’d been awake for hours thinking about the idea that had taken root the night before and how they might make it happen. It was such a brilliant idea—a place on the island for seniors and others in need of health care so they could remain close to their loved ones. She and Jared certainly had the resources to make it happen, and it might turn out to be an ideal situation for her brother-in-law Quinn, who’d returned from his service as a medic in Afghanistan badly injured and in need of a new direction.

The more she thought about the idea, the more brilliant it became. She made it until seven o’clock before she brought a mug of coffee into the bedroom with her, hoping to butter up Jared.

She kissed him awake.

“Hey,” he said when his eyes finally opened. “What time is it?”

“Seven.”

“It’s Sunday, right?”

“Uh-huh.”

“What the heck are you doing up so early on the one day we get to sleep in?” He made himself get up and be productive the other days of the week, lest he become a slovenly “retiree.” Sundays were his day “off.”