On cue, Fay wriggled in her booster chair, raising her arms and bowing her back, and sent up a loud whine.

"Oh, no, she wants a bottle. It's time... I have one ready... Save the dishes, Maxie, until I can give her a bottle. I try to hold her for it as often as I can... ."

"I'll do the bottle," Tom said. And then he thought, I am going to lose my man card here. This is not what I want.

"Are you sure?" Nora asked.

"Sure. Be happy to," he said.

"All righty. Let me get her cleaned up." And Nora went after the little tyke's face and head and hands with a wet paper towel. She undid the safety belt on the booster chair and handed her to Tom. "Get comfortable. I'll bring you the bottle and the blanket."

Not quite sure what those instructions meant, Tom carried the tot to the living room and chose Maxie's favorite chair, a swivel rocker-recliner, which gave him a view to the kitchen. Nora was right behind him with the gear-bottle and blanket. Fay reached for them with an irritated eh eh eh eh. Then, holding her own bottle and soft blanket, she reclined into the crook of Tom's arm and sucked away.

He looked into the kitchen where there was much going on. Berry was standing on a step stool between Maxie and Nora, mostly splashing while they chattered like they'd known each other since birth. And wonder of wonders, Berry not only talked as much, she was loud. Nothing like on the back steps where she was shy and quiet, but loud and extremely verbal. She addressed both Maxie and her mother, turning her head and looking up at one, then the other.

They rinsed, washed, dried and put away. Although Maxie had a dishwasher, she preferred not to use it unless the cleanup was major. She said the warm water was soothing on her arthritic hands.

He looked down at Fay, who was gazing up at him. The drowsy-eyed contentment momentarily filled him with a deep sense of satisfaction and adoration, as if he'd done something other than volunteer for a job he didn't know he wanted. When she caught him looking at her, she smiled around the bottle's nipple. He smiled back, and then her eyes drifted closed. They opened, closed, opened, closed. Finally, with just a couple of ounces left, she was gonzo. And because he'd been a little insane all evening, he lowered his lips to her head and gave it a kiss.

"I knew that would happen," Nora said.

He was stricken. Had he done something bad?

"That last bottle of the day after a full tummy knocks her out. It's a race to get the bath in before she crashes. Here, I'll take her."

"You're going to take her?" he asked.

"Home, Tom. She needs to go to bed."

"What about her bath?"

"You know what? A kid can live by missing a bath one day but you don't want to skip things like food and cuddling."

"She has spaghetti sauce in her hair and behind her ear."

"Yeah, I might give her a little spit and polish when I change her and put her in her pajamas. Not that a little red sauce will hurt her, but I don't want Adie trying to bathe her and don't want the day care to think I'm negligent. Here," she said, holding out her hands.

"I can carry her to the car," he offered. "Is the other one ready to go?"

"Yes, wearing as much dishwater as went down the drain," Nora said. She crouched and ran a gentle finger around Fay's ear. "There is nothing more precious, is there? Thanks for everything, Tom. The whole afternoon and evening-it was terrific. Someday I hope I'll be able to invite you and your family to my table."

The soft look in her eyes was so tender and sentimental he could feel it reach way down inside of him. To cover the discomfort of such emotion, he stood with Fay in his arms. He handed Nora the bottle and pulled the blanket around the baby to keep her warm.

Nora went to the kitchen to fetch Berry. Maxie was holding her on her lap, helping her into her little hoodie, talking with her about how much fun it was to have her to dinner. Nora put the almost-empty bottle in the beat-up canvas tote that must serve as a diaper bag. "I think I have everything. Berry, did you remember your book?"

Berry nodded.

"Say thank you and let's get going," she said.

The little girl said a quiet thank-you to Maxie and in exchange got a hug. Then Maxie stood and gave Nora a hug. "I had such fun," she said. "Promise to bring them back."

"I would love to," Nora said. "It was so wonderful. Now let's not wear out our welcome." She took Berry's hand and walked out to her car, Tom following.

Tom put Fay in the car seat while Nora belted Berry in. Fay didn't even whimper; she was unconscious. He couldn't figure out the safety straps however. Finally Nora came around and with a chuckle, hooked up the baby easily. Then she put her arms around his waist for a quick hug. "Thanks again," she said.

"Give me a ride to the gate," he said. "I'll open it for you."

"I can manage... ."

"Let me," he said. "I don't want you to leave the kids in a running car to let yourself out and close up. I want to walk back-it's a beautiful night."

She looked up at the black sky and took a deep breath. "When I got here, I thought I'd been thrown into hell without a rope. Look at that sky, smell the fall air. I had no way of knowing this was the luckiest break of my life. I'm sure you know how lucky you are."

"Let's go," he said, getting in the passenger side and folding up his long legs to fit. "Nice little car, Nora," he said.

"Isn't it? I'm still quite cautious of Jed, but I think it's going to be okay. I think he's a good guy. And if so, I couldn't ask for more."

I could ask for so much more, Tom thought. One woman instead of two, for starters. One woman with all the right traits, he thought.

They were at the gate in seconds and he jumped out. "Drive carefully," he said before closing the door. He was grateful he'd made the suggestion of letting her out-he needed a little time alone to think before Maxie started asking questions about how much he'd enjoyed the evening, so his walk back to the house was slow. Then he sat on the back steps for a minute, the same steps he'd shared with Berry earlier.

Tom liked a lot about Darla. He liked that she was pretty and smart and very sophisticated. He didn't mind that she made him look like a boring old farmer-he could use a little class. She had a stable and loving upbringing. She apparently had no weird, dark skeletons like an ex in jail for dealing drugs. She didn't have children yet, so no baggage. Well, there was baggage...including about a billion-dollar wardrobe, but that wasn't his problem. A wardrobe that would go to waste in a small town. So what if he'd rather vacation by camping or fishing while she was headed to the beach in the Caribbean? Lots of couples celebrated their differences rather than chafed at them and only expanded their experiences. Except he wasn't crazy about wrestling two big suitcases for every day of travel, either.

He sighed deeply.

But the things he liked about Nora were her natural, unaffected beauty, her grit and determination, her kindness, her gratitude, her humor. He even liked her kids. He hadn't wanted to take on someone else's kids, but he liked them. A lot.

Chapter Eleven

Maxie sat in the living room, feet propped up in her recliner, TV on. She knew what Tom was doing-either sitting on the porch or pacing outside, wondering what the hell he was going to do. Even though he'd been gone for the past several years, she knew the boy inside and out. He was a plotter. A planner. And sometimes he got a little over the moon in his plans.

Tom didn't seem to really lament his absence of a mom and dad. That sort of thing didn't stand out that much in a place like Virgin River where extended families abounded. In a place with large family businesses like farms, vineyards, ranches and orchards, it was fairly common for the grandparents, aunts and uncles to be included in the day-to-day equation, all often present at the same dinner table. And it was also typical for small-town boys to lust after a bigger, more exciting world.

"When I grow up, I'm going to see every country in the world," Tom used to say when he was young. "I'm not going to spend my whole life on one small piece of land. I want to see things, do exciting things." Thus college and the Marine Corps, Maxie assumed. Escape to a larger world. Excitement-in spades.

She never tried to convince him of the virtues of the land. But after trying a few different majors in college, Tom had finally gotten his degree in agriculture. After the Marines, he came back to the orchard. She hadn't asked him to, but she had said that if he had no interest in the apple business, she'd sell it in a few years-she wasn't going to keep picking apples into her eighties, but she'd be more than thrilled to live in her house, on her land.

Maxie knew that deep down Tom found comfort in the beauty of simplicity, nature, wholesome living. She also knew the fastest way to scare him off the orchard was to try to sell it to him. Better he should carry lots of expensive luggage up the stairs to the guest room and give a baby a bottle. That would do more to shape him.

He'd come around. She hoped.

The screen door slammed and he walked into the living room. She patted herself on the back for her restraint. She so wanted to ask him wasn't it nice to have a dinner guest who ate and appreciated the food? Instead she said, "Pie?"

"No, thanks. I'm going to bed."