‘‘I changed my mind.’’ She scanned the yard as she spread the tablecloths.

Cam opened his mouth to protest, but caught Ethan’s warning shake of the head in time. His brother was right, he decided. Arguing wasn’t going to change a thing.

Anna had been on a tear all morning, and when he said as much to Ethan as they moved out of earshot, it was with the irritation of the baffled.

‘‘We’re talking about a practical-minded, organized woman here,’’ Cam added. ‘‘I don’t know what’s gotten into her. It’s just a damn picnic.’’

‘‘I guess women get that way over things like this,’’ was Ethan’s opinion. He remembered the way Grace had refused to let him take a shower in his own bathroom just because Cam and Anna were coming home. Who knew what went on in a female mind?

‘‘She wasn’t this bad over the wedding reception.’’

‘‘I expect she had her mind on other things then.’’

‘‘Yeah.’’ Cam grunted as he picked up one of the round umbrella tables—again—and began to cart it toward the sun-dazzled water. ‘‘Phil’s the smart one. He got the hell out of the house.’’

‘‘He’s always had a knack for it,’’ Ethan agreed.

He didn’t mind moving tables, or setting up chairs, or any of the dozens of chores—small and large—that Anna came up with. It helped keep his mind off weightiermatters.

If he let himself think too much, he started to get a picture of Gloria DeLauter in his head. Because he’d never seen her, the image his brain conjured up was a tall, fleshy woman with tangled straw-colored hair, hard eyes smeared with sooty makeup, a mouth lax from too many trips to the bottle, too many matings with the needle.

The eyes were blue, like his own. The mouth, despite its slick coat of lipstick, shaped like his own. And he knew it wasn’t Seth’s mother’s face he was seeing. It was his own mother’s.

The picture wasn’t dim and fuzzy as it had become over time. It was sharp and clear as yesterday.

It still had the power to ice his blood, to churn a sick animal fear in his stomach that was kin to shame.

It still made him want to strike out with bruised and bloodied fists.

He turned slowly as he heard the squeal of joy. And saw Aubrey racing over the lawn, her eyes bright as sunbeams. And saw Grace, standing by the porch steps, her smile warm and just a little shy.

You’ve got no right, the nasty little voice in his head hissed. No right to touch something so fine and bright .

But, oh, he had a need, one that swamped him like a storm surge and left him floundering. When Aubrey launched herself at him, his arms reached down, swung her up and around as she shrieked in delight.