“I’d hoped having her own furniture would help, but it hasn’t seemed to make any difference.” He continued to the twin bed in the dim room, where Hannah was curled up in a ball beneath the blanket.

“Does she ever take the sweater off?” Christi drew up beside him, her voice a whisper of warmth against his jaw.

His pulse lost its rhythm, and he curled his fingers into a tight ball. “Only in the shower—and at church. Even then, she wants it within sight. I doubt I’ll ever convince her to let me take it to the laundry room again.”

“Handwash it with Woolite in the sink instead. Use cold water and lay it flat to dry. She can stay close throughout that process.”

“Duly noted.”

Hannah let out another pathetic, gut-twisting whimper, and he leaned down to stroke her hand. “I hate to wake her up, but I don’t know how else to stop the bad dreams.”

“May I try?”

“Have at it.” He stepped back and motioned toward the bed.

“If you have anything to do, why don’t you take care of it? I’ll stay for a little while.” With that, she slipped off her flats and sat carefully on the mattress. After stretching out beside his daughter, she tucked herself behind the girl and smoothed her hair back.

Within half a minute, Hannah wiggled closer to her, and Christi slipped an arm around her. After a couple more minutes, his daughter’s breathing evened out and she stopped thrashing.

Huh.

Christi was almost as much of a stranger to his daughter as he was. Why would her presence soothe Hannah?

Could it be that a woman’s touch reminded her of her mom?

No matter. Whatever worked.

Leaving them alone, Jack wandered into the kitchen, pausing at the window. In the distance, clouds were moving in, and the last bands of gold on the horizon were tarnishing as day transitioned to night.

Just as his golden image of Christi had tarnished eleven years ago during the course of one brief, overheard conversation.

But tomorrow the sun would rise again. After the dark night, a new—and different—day would dawn.

Was it possible a new Christi had also emerged after the dark periods she’d mentioned?

And if that was the case, was it fair to hold on to old grievances? Should he give her a chance to prove she’d really changed?

To do that, though, he’d have to see more of her. But his new responsibilities with Hannah and ongoing work commitments—not to mention Christi’s jobs—didn’t leave much opportunity for socializing.

Unless . . .

He froze as a crazy idea began to percolate in his mind. An idea that could solve a host of problems in one fell swoop.

It did carry risk, however—to everyone involved. If he’d misjudged, there could end up being hurt all around.