Hannah rose to her feet, just as eager for his attention as her daughter. "Your baby girl is six months old today."

Jackson turned to her. "I can't believe it." With his free hand, he drew Hannah close and bent to kiss her cheek. "How was your day?"

At first, such simple gestures of affection from him had been enough. She knew that anything else would potentially complicate their situation. But more recently, her feelings on that subject had begun to change. Hannah was spending more and more time wondering if she should suggest to Jackson that they move beyond the platonic relationship they'd settled into.

"Exhausting, but I enjoyed every minute of it."

He touched the dark circles under her eyes. "Well, the weekend is here which means I'm taking over. Sophia and I planned the whole thing last night."

Her lips twitched. "What are these plans?"

"They're a secret." He slid Sophia back into her walker. "Let me change clothes and then you can consider yourself off-duty."

Hannah pulled the clip out of her hair allowing it to fall over her shoulders. She felt Jackson's intent gaze.

"You look like you did in high school," he said softly.

She laughed. "My hair might look the same, but everything else has changed and not for the better."

"What are you talking about?"

"I've got stretch marks, and I can't even begin to get into my old jeans."

He let his eyes drift from her head to her bare feet. "I don't know anything about that. All I know is I'll be dreaming of the way you look all night."

She blushed. "The pizza should be here soon."

"Do me a favor, Hannah, and let me answer the door when the delivery guy shows up."

"Why?"

"Just because."

She threw her hands up in the air. "I'll never understand the male mind."

As he headed to his room, Jackson said over his shoulder, "Trust me, I'm not that complicated. Protective and selfish, maybe, but not complicated."

Hannah ran over and caught him by the arm. "You're the best man I've ever known."

A doubtful expression appeared in his eyes. "I don't want you to say or do things out of some mistaken sense of obligation or grat.i.tude."

She put her arms around his waist and laid her head on his chest. "I would never do that to you, Jackson."

Before he could respond, the doorbell chimed. "I'll take care of that. As we just discussed, you won't be answering the door."

Putting another cheerio in front of Sophia, Jackson watched her repeated attempts to stick her finger into the hole. It sometimes took five or six times, but once it was on her finger, an adorable smile appeared on her face. This activity was probably the only thing that could have taken Jackson's mind off what happened in the living room. As it was, he found his glance slipping in his wife's direction more often than usual. Whether the object of his attention noticed or not, he couldn't tell.

Once the pizza had been eaten and the dishes done, Hannah walked over and put her hand on his shoulder. "I'm going to take a shower and wash my hair."

"Take your time. Sophia and I are going for a walk."

When they returned, Jackson carried Sophia into the pink and gray bedroom and sat her in the crib. "It's time for your bath, pumpkin." He opened the top drawer of the dresser. "Well, let's see what we've got here. I can offer you flowers, polka dots or kittens." He held up three sets of pajamas in front of Sophia. "Take your time. This is a big decision."

Hannah came in behind him. "What are you doing?"

"Selecting our attire for the evening." He turned back to Sophia. "I see you're looking at the kittens. Excellent choice. This is what all the stylish babies are wearing this year." After putting the other two outfits away, he laid the kitten pajamas over the railing of the crib along with a clean diaper and bent down to pick up Sophia. He tweaked a lock of Hannah's wet hair as he walked out the door. "We're heading to the spa now. You're welcome to join us."

Jackson strolled into the hall bathroom and started filling the tub. After testing it several times, he lowered Sophia into the water. He was drying her curly blonde hair when Hannah stuck her head through the door.

"I made chocolate chip cookies. They're on the kitchen table."

Wrapping a soft towel around the wiggling body in his arms, he said, "You're supposed to be relaxing."

"Baking is relaxing." She eyed the numerous wet spots on his t-shirt with amus.e.m.e.nt. "How was the spa?"

Jackson laughed. "I got my money's worth."

Hannah held out her arms. "Give her to me. I'll get her into her pajamas while you go change your shirt."

With a last kiss on Sophia's head, he handed her to Hannah. "I won't be long, pumpkin."

After they left the bathroom, he surveyed the disorder with a grin. How had bathing one child made such a mess? Picking up the wet towels, he headed to the laundry room. Once in the large room off the kitchen, Jackson disposed of the towels, stripped off his shirt and hung it on a clothing rack to dry. Then he let Freya into the garage and made sure she had water. On his way back to his room, he ran into Hannah in the hallway. Her eyes widened as they fell on his muscled torso and arms. Jackson laughed at her expression.

"Now you know how it feels," he said softly.

"I have no idea what you mean by that."

"Yes, you do."

She tried not to smile and failed. "I'll admit to pleasant surprise."

"Well, no one can say I didn't try." He walked past her and grabbed another shirt out of his closet. When he turned around, Hannah was right behind him. He knew by the look in her eyes that she'd seen the scars running down one side of his back.

"Where's Sophia?" he asked briskly as he pulled the shirt over his head.

"She's in her crib. I, um, should get back to her. She's getting sleepy. Do you mind if I go ahead and feed her?"

"I was going to suggest that. Then I can give her a bottle if she wakes up during the night."

After she left, Jackson sank down on the bed and absently rubbed his leg. It hadn't taken long for Hannah's admiration to turn to pity. At least she hadn't looked horrified like the girls in his physical therapy cla.s.ses in college. When they'd practiced manual therapy on each other, Jackson actually felt sorry for them. It was painfully obvious they hadn't wanted to touch him.

He was still sitting in the same position when Hannah returned. Dropping down beside him, she handed him a cookie. "Your daughter is asleep."

"Thank you." He took a bite and glanced at the clock on the nightstand. "It's only ten. What time will she wake up?"

"About five; six if you're lucky."

"That's not too bad." He finished the cookie.

"Do you want another one?"

Jackson swallowed quickly. He didn't want anything to eat; he wanted to fall asleep with Hannah in his arms. "Not really," he whispered huskily.

"I didn't realize you had scars on your back, too."

He shifted away from her and stood up. "I'm sorry you had to see them. I know they're not pleasant to look at."

"Why are you apologizing? When I saw them all I could think of is how much you've suffered."

He heard sympathy in her voice, but not the pa.s.sion he longed to share with her. "It was a long time ago. If you don't mind, I'd rather not talk about it."

"I've upset you. I'm sorry."

Jackson forced himself to turn around and smile. "Nothing of the sort. I'm going to go read for a while. Do you want to join me?"

"If you don't mind."

Reaching out, he tucked the silky strands of hair behind her ear. "I love to read the Bible with you, Hannah. I wasn't sure if you needed some time to yourself. As wonderful as Sophia is, she's a full-time job."

"There are certainly times when I want to be alone, but this isn't one of them. I've learned so much about G.o.d and the Bible from being around you, Jackson. It's the only thing that keeps me going sometimes."

He smiled gently. "That's how it's supposed to be. When we get away from G.o.d is when we lose our way."

The following afternoon Jackson laid a sleepy Sophia down in her crib and inserted a cd into the player. As a soft lullaby filled the air, he closed the blinds and made for the door. After shutting it behind him, he walked into the kitchen. He was pouring a gla.s.s of tea when Hannah hopped onto the counter beside him.

"Where have you been hiding?" he asked.

"I was checking my emails."

"That reminds me; I need to do that."

She pulled him over in front of her and walked her fingers up his arm. "I want to start taking cla.s.ses next term."

Jackson smiled at this familiar tactic. It never failed to get his attention, but not for the reason she supposed. "I think that's a great idea, but I'd prefer you take night or weekend cla.s.ses so we don't have to put Sophia in daycare."

"I've been looking into online cla.s.ses."

"That's even better."

"You don't mind?"

"Why would I mind? You can be a mother and a college graduate."

Hannah played with the watch that hardly ever left his wrist. "I never thought you would be this way."

"What way?"

She bit her lip and looked away. "You love Sophia as if she were truly your own."

Jackson's eyebrows rose. "What else did you expect me to do?"

"Nothing. It's just that if ever Mitch.e.l.l changed his mind, he would have certain rights as her biological father. I'm worried what that would do to you."

He walked over to the sink. Without turning around, he asked, "Have you heard from him?"

"Of course not." Hannah slid off the counter and wrapped her arms around him. When he didn't respond, she got between him and the counter. "Jackson, don't look like that. Nothing is going to change what we have."

He smiled faintly. "You reminded me of things I try not to think about. I need to take care of Freya."

Hannah sat at the kitchen table, her laptop in front of her. A familiar feeling of guilt stole over her. What was she doing? And what would Jackson do if he ever found out? With a fast beating heart, she checked her inbox. There it was another email from Mitch.e.l.l. This was the fourth one this week. She shouldn't have read any of them. And she shouldn't have responded.

In the email she received yesterday, Mitch.e.l.l confided that things hadn't worked out with the other woman in large part because he still loved Hannah. She didn't believe him, but it felt good to hear it. She responded by telling him about Jackson. Wondering what his reaction would be, she opened his newest message.

So you married Jackson Steadman. Wasn't he the guy with the burned face? He seemed nice enough in high school. I'm glad for you, Hannah. I know how important marriage is to you. I'm sure you're happy, and you deserve to be. I'm thinking about leaving Atlanta. There's nothing left for me here. There's a position opening up in a few months in New York. I'll probably take it. I never should have let you go. I should have married you and helped raise our daughter. Now it's too late.

Hannah was sobbing by the time she got to the end. She almost hated Mitch.e.l.l for doing this to her - for making her wish for something she couldn't have. This is what she got for trying to punish him. She'd hoped that in hearing about her life with someone else, he would experience some of the pain his rejection had inflicted on her.

Mitch.e.l.l didn't admit he was wrong very often. His doing so now was bittersweet. She wanted him to regret losing her. Such knowledge was a salve to her pride and helped reconcile her to what she'd lost. What she didn't want was for his confession to pierce the protective sh.e.l.l she'd erected around her heart.

She also didn't want to regret her life with Jackson. It was a good life. She couldn't have asked for a better father for Sophia or a kinder husband for herself. Jackson loved her with a selfless devotion she'd done nothing to deserve. That she could even stoop to the level of going behind his back and communicating with Mitch.e.l.l was wrong and filled her with shame.

This had to stop. She would tell Mitch.e.l.l not to contact her again. She couldn't afford to indulge in something so destructive to her peace of mind and to her marriage. Tears streamed down her face as she typed her reply.

Yes, Mitch.e.l.l, it is too late. We can't go back. If I were you, I'd take that job in New York. Please don't write to me anymore. There's nothing left to say.

Hannah closed the laptop and wiped her face on her shirt. Why did the thought of never hearing from Mitch.e.l.l again make her miserable? What was wrong with her? Her eyes moved restlessly over the sunny kitchen. This is where she wanted to be this is where she belonged. So why did she feel like a bird in a cage?

The sound of childish chatter woke Jackson from a deep sleep. Sophia was awake, and it was Thanksgiving Day. Sliding his feet to the floor, he rubbed his eyes and yawned. As he pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, he sighed heavily. In the last few months, his relationship with Hannah had stalled. Every attempt on his part to get closer had been gently, but definitively refused. Not liking the uncomfortable look in her eyes whenever he got close, he'd all but stopped touching her.

In a way, he wished she'd never softened toward him at all. She'd given him a glimpse of heaven and then slammed the door in his face. He'd thought she was finally breaking free of Mitch.e.l.l. He'd even entertained the crazy idea that she might be starting to fall in love with him. It had all come to nothing. Hannah would never love him. Only a fool would continue to hope for something that had so little chance of actually happening.

The pensive smile on his lips disappeared when he entered Sophia's room. Her delight in his appearance drove away his sadness like a cooling rain brings relief on a hot summer day. After changing her diaper, he carried her into the kitchen and sat her in the highchair.

"What are you in the mood for this morning, pumpkin?" He surveyed the neat row of gla.s.s jars. "You had bananas with your cereal yesterday. Let's go with peaches today." Handing her a sippy cup of juice, he poured the dry cereal into a bowl and added water. Opening up one of the jars, he scooped out some peaches and stirred them into the cereal.

"You know, juice is for drinking, not pouring out on your tray. Oh, I almost forgot. Where's your bib? Mommy won't like us decorating that pretty shirt with orange spots."

"You're right; she won't," Hannah said into his ear. She bent down to kiss Sophia. "Would you like omelets or waffles?"

"Either one is fine with me." Jackson wiped Sophia's mouth and handed her a few cheerios. "Let's try to leave by eight. I'd like to be at Mom's by eleven if possible."