A cheerful fire blazed in the fireplace. The young ebony-haired boy playing on the bearskin rug before the hearth jumped to his feet and ran to greet them.

“Aunt Heather, you’ve come!” he exclaimed as he threw his small arms around her skirts.

With a laugh, she returned Ryan’s hug. “My, how you’ve grown.”

“Yes,” he boasted in delight, gazing up at her with his father’s green eyes. “I’m quite big now.”

“You are indeed.”

“I have a pony now, Aunt Heather. His name is Snoops, because he always puts his nose where it doesn’t belong.”

Heather ruffled his dark hair. “He sounds much like another mischievous fellow I know.”

While Ryan chattered on about his most cherished possession, her gaze lifted to find Sloan. He had bent to scoop up a young child from the blanket in front of the fire. The toddler had straight, coal-black hair, with skin several shades darker than Sloan’s and features that were decidedly Indian.

She was grinning happily and mouthing disjointed phrases like “Papa home” as she patted her father’s hard face.

When she gave his cheek a faint kiss and said, “Love Papa,” Sloan flashed the most incredibly disarming smile Heather had ever seen on a man.

She felt her heart twist, recognizing the tenderness he had shown her so briefly last night. There was no question that he adored his daughter.

Distracted, Heather allowed Caitlin to collect her coat and bonnet and gloves, but she kept her carpetbag and returned her attention to her godson. “I’ve brought something for you, Ryan.” Digging inside, she gave the boy a wrapped parcel, which he promptly ripped open.

“Ohhhh,” he exclaimed in awe at the painted toy soldiers. “Pa, look what Aunt Heather gave me!”

When Ryan scurried off to show Jake his new prize, Heather moved forward to meet her new stepdaughter.

The black eyes, bright and luminous, turned solemn when she spied her; like most children, the tiny girl was apparently shy in the presence of a stranger.

Sloan held her protectively while Heather stretched out her fingers, palm up. “You must be Janna,” she said softly. “I am very pleased to make your acquaintance.”

Safe in her father’s arms, the child gazed back at her curiously. After a moment’s hesitation, the small fingers curled around Heather’s slender ones.

“My name is Heather,” she said, knowing it would be too much to ask to be called “Mama.” “Can you say that?”

Janna shook her head and buried her face in Sloan’s shoulder.

Not giving up, Heather sank to her knees and fished in her carpetbag for another parcel. “I’ve brought you something, too.”

Sloan set the toddler on the floor but stood over her, watchful and wary. When Heather unwrapped a raven-haired doll with a porcelain face and blue calico skirts, Janna’s dark eyes widened with delight.