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  He retrieved the ax and swung at the log again, this time making a solid hit and causing the wood to splinter straight down the middle. No sense trying to second-guess the future.

  He needed to go back inside and face Abby. She was probably regretting she’d ever asked him to fix her roof, let alone married him. He certainly wouldn’t blame her.

  Picking up the two halves of the log, he tossed them into the wheelbarrow sitting nearby. Then, taking the hatchet, he buried the point into the stump.

  He knew what he had to do. The mistakes of his past would not be the lot of his future, not if he could help it. Making a bad habit was all too easy. Breaking it later would be next to impossible. He’d just have to keep on top of things as best he could and make sure Abby didn’t get overwhelmed with the kids, the house and whatnot. He didn’t expect everything to be a snap, but he figured with a little common sense and patience he could make everyone happy.

  Turning around, he started toward the house.

  His decision to trust Abby and use a little patience zapped from his brain when he arrived in the kitchen and spotted his wife perched on a shaky ladder. Abby, seeming oblivious to the danger, was reaching into a far corner of the top cupboard. As the ladder started to teeter, a fist of fear knocked the air from Devlin’s lungs.

  Acting on sheer reflex, he rushed forward and swung Abby off the wooden slats.

  The suddenness of his movements caused the ladder to flounder and Abby to gasp, “Devlin?”

  They both jumped as the ladder crashed to the floor.

  Devlin didn’t release her immediately, absorbing the heat and scent of her as he fought to regain mastery over his breathing. It didn’t help, either, that her cushy derriere was cradled just inches above a vital area of his body.

  Glaring at her, he growled. “What in the hell are you doing?” His heart was beating faster than a stampede of wild steers. How was he supposed to acquire patience when she risked her neck on a ladder?

  Abby wiggled out of his arms. “I was rearranging a few things.” Hooking a wayward curl behind her ear, she eyed him with uncertainty. “But if you object . . . ?”

  The rippling tension slowly slid off his shoulders. Raking his fingers through his hair, he shook his head. “I don’t care if you want to put the spoons and forks in the bathroom closet, but let me know when you need to reach something above your head. I don’t want you falling and hurting yourself . . . or the baby.”

  She gazed at him through the feathered arches of her long eyelashes. “Do you want me to carry a box of bandages with me, too?”

  Her wry tone penetrated his thick skull. A sheepish redness eased up his neck. Reaching down, he picked up the ladder. “Did I sound like a card-carrying member of the Idiots-R-Us Club?”

  “I think we’re both a bit tense.”

  “Yeah, that’s one way of putting it.” If only she knew. He’d been tense ever since she’d walked into the house, but it didn’t have a thing to do with that tipsy ladder or her wanting to change a few things. “What did you want to move?”

  She pointed to a large blue bowl on the top shelf. “That might be good for stirring up eggs.”

  He lifted the dish and set it on the counter. “What else?”

  “I’ll take care of the rest.”

  “It might be better—”

  “No, it wouldn’t,” she said, a hint of steel lurking ominously in the back of her eyes. “I need to learn my way around the kitchen and the easiest way for me to do that is to start doing things.”

  She crossed her arms in a pose that said she was standing her ground.

  A glow of heat built in his loins and fanned upward as her gutsy stance drew attention to the nice thrust of her bosom. In contrast to the grim chill outside, the kitchen hummed with a scintillating warmth that didn’t have anything to do with the physical room temperature, but with the sweetly mussed woman in front of him.

  There was nothing overtly sexy about Abby or the casual clothes she wore. Yet, the package she presented—soft, curvy, with blue jeans that hugged the enticing curve of her hips and a soft sweater that cherished the distinctive swell of her breasts made him think of nothing else but sex.

  He was suddenly hot. Too hot for the coat he wore. Too hot for his own skin. He understood the Scandinavian custom of rolling in the snow after sitting in a spa. That’s the only thing that stood a chance against the steam permeating him.

  As he started to pull off his jacket, Abby picked up a small notebook lying on the counter. “If it’s okay with you, I’ll need to go into town and pick up a few groceries.”

  He shrugged his coat back on. “I’ll drive you. Jason can watch the kids.”

  She tucked back the curl that had sprung loose again. “You don’t have to do that. I’m used to shopping on my own and finding my way around strange places.”

  Her statement drew his attention away from his physical urges as he wondered how many times in the past she’d had to deal with strange places and strange people. “I need to have you cosign the bank account. Now is as good a time as any.”

  “I’m keeping my own bank account, remember?”

  Patience, Hamilton. Devlin tamped down his frustration. “But you’ll be paying for the groceries out of our joint account.” When she hesitated, he reminded her, “That’s part of the terms we laid down in the contract.”

  “I suppose you’re right.” She traced a finger around the edge of the notebook, flicking the corners nervously. “Money is always an awkward thing to discuss, isn’t it?”

  He casually reached into his pocket and pulled out the car keys. “Not if we don’t make it one.”

  She didn’t respond to his suggestion. Instead she snapped the notebook shut and put it in her canvas purse. “I’ll be ready to go into town in five minutes. Would that be convenient for you?”

  Devlin recognized avoidance when he heard it. Abby hadn’t argued with him, but she hadn’t agreed, either. In other words, she still meant to keep her own bank account. There was nothing more he could say at this point without setting her back up further than it was. So long as she agreed to share the account that would cover all their personal needs, she met the letter of their agreement. That didn’t mean he had to like it.

  That didn’t mean he wouldn’t do everything in his power to change her mind, either.

  As Devlin steered the late-model family-size car onto the paved county road and drove them toward town, Abby wished she could banish her spine-tingling uneasiness.

  They’d been so comfortable with each other when they first met, laughing at the same silly stories Paige had created, enjoying the same uncomplicated movies.

  Now all the simple friendship had fled, as if they were total strangers, facing each other for the first time. They were tiptoeing around each other, careful not to tread on each other’s feelings, but not connecting, either. Beneath the prickly level, awareness simmered, causing this nerve-tensing atmosphere. Would it have existed if they hadn’t gone to bed together on their wedding night?

  Did knowing each other in the biblical sense undermine everything they’d set out to achieve?

  She wasn’t sure what to do about the sizzling atmosphere. Or her undefinable feelings for Devlin.

  Ignore them? Pretend they didn’t exist and hope they would eventually disappear?

  Devlin broke the silence between them. “Riley’s looking for a home for his snakes. They’ll probably end up in the science lab at school.”

  Abby relaxed a little bit. “Perhaps he could keep one.”

  Devlin shot her a quick glance. “Three kids, a baby, a dog and a cat in the house are enough wildlife to contend with, don’t you think?”

  “Will he be terribly disappointed?”

  “For now. By tomorrow, Riley will be trying something else. Take it from me, he hasn’t had a chance to bond with his slithery friends yet.”

  She couldn’t contain the smile. “I believe you.”

  “You should do that more often
.”

  Startled, she met his jade gaze. “Do what?”

  “Smile.”

  She tugged the edges of her coat together and interlocked her gloved fingers. “I guess I’ve been a little stressed.”

  “It’s understandable. We probably both have.”

  She recognized this was his attempt to apologize. Her smile came easier this time. “It’s understandable,” she echoed his words.

  He chuckled, the sound wrapping around her, filling her body with an intoxicating warmth that was instantly habit-forming.

  Abby tried to keep her attention focused on the conversation instead of on watching Devlin’s capable hands easily commandeer the car, anticipating each curve and bend in the road. His blunt-edged fingers were tanned and well-shaped, and in the swelling intimacy of the car, she recalled how they’d stroked her heated skin on their wedding night.

  On some level, every part of her being responded to Devlin, the man. She had to be careful to keep a distance between them or she’d do something as stupid as . . .

  She deliberately turned off that channel of stupidity.

  Devlin’s fist tightened around the steering wheel. “I guess neither one of us could have predicted what happened,” he mused.

  She shook her head. “Marriage and kids do that, don’t they? We never quite know what we’re taking on. What would you have done differently if you could do your first marriage over again?”

  Devlin slowed the car as a tractor and wagon loomed ahead. “That’s a question that haunted me for a long time after Linda left. I don’t think either of us knew what the other one wanted in a marriage. By the end of it, we didn’t care.”

  “What did you want?”

  He frowned at the tractor ahead of him. “I wanted the small-town life where folks stop to talk to one another on the street corner or lend a helping hand when someone needs it. Those things were a part of my life when I was growing up, and I wanted them for my kids.”

  Abby didn’t interrupt the silence that followed.

  He flexed his fingers. “But Linda didn’t like any of it. She hated the slow pace. She claimed Humphrey’s local market didn’t have the right kind of food, even though we usually ate just plain food. I liked being at home nights. She wanted to go to the theater or attend late-night committee meetings. I didn’t mind that the post office closed for lunch or the township clerk only worked during the mornings. Linda thought it was archaic. We were like two shoes that didn’t match. Maybe if I’d have compromised and agreed to move to Madison, we could have made it work.”

  She understood the derision in his expression. “But then you would have been miserable.”

  She couldn’t see Devlin surviving well in a big-city setting. Although he’d looked fantastic in his suit the day they got married, she knew the clothes he wore now were a better fit for the man he was. One only had to look into Devlin’s bold green eyes to realize he was who he was. Real. As real and as honest as the calluses on his hands.

  That’s what had appealed to her.

  She was beginning to understand that was part of his danger, as well. It would be too easy to relax her guard and forget all the past had taught her. He was a man a woman could lean on. If she dared to lean.

  Civilization greeted them as they reached the city limits.

  “Does Humphrey have a preschool for four-year-olds?” she asked.

  He nodded. “I spoke to the head teacher last week. They have an opening. She’s expecting you to call sometime this week and bring in Paige for a visit.”

  His thoughtfulness on behalf of Paige caused a warmth to spread through her. “I appreciate your thinking of Paige and setting that up,” she finally managed to say.

  “That’s what fathers and husbands do. They take care of details for their families.”

  Abby bit her lip. “Not all of them do.”

  He produced a rude sound. “They would if they were raised by my mother.”

  Abby smiled. She could picture Devlin’s mother who always had a kind word for everyone. “I like your parents.”

  “The feeling is mutual.”

  Abby looked down at her gloved hands. “Did you tell them about the baby?”

  “No.”

  She turned to stare unseeingly at the passing scenery. “I suppose they’ll be rather shocked. After all—”

  His chuckle brought her words to a stop. “My mother will be tickled pink and my father will probably buy me a case of cigars. I didn’t tell them because my mother would have wanted to rush over here and fuss over you. I didn’t think you were ready for that. She’s delighted to see me married and can’t wait to start fussing over you and Paige. Add a baby, and she’ll want to move right in.”

  “That’s sweet of her.”

  He snorted. “Wait until she wants to help you decorate the nursery. Or interrogates you about suitable names for the baby.”

  She wasn’t sure if he was jesting or not. She’d met Devlin’s folks on more than one occasion when they’d come to visit Gayle. When Abby had spoken to them on the phone after Devlin told them they were getting married, his father had decided to build them a china hutch for a wedding present and his mother had promised unlimited babysitting anytime they needed it. They were nice people.

  “There are names your mother doesn’t like?”

  Devlin met her gaze through the rearview mirror. “I hope you aren’t fond of the names Ralph or Ralphina.”

  “I think I can give them a pass.”

  “Good. There was a Ralph Hamilton who robbed the First National Bank thirty years ago, and we don’t want to hang our child with that kind of reputation to live down.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” she said, enjoying the spirit of the conversation. “And what about Ralphina?”

  There was a distinct twinkle in his eye. “Name association, too similar to Ralph. Besides, my mother, who was a former schoolteacher, would point out that there are too many letters for a kid to learn to spell.”

  Abby decided she liked her new mother-in-law just that much more because she thought about children first. “Your mother is a smart lady.”

  “That’s what she keeps telling my dad.”

  “How many years have they been married?”

  “Almost thirty-five.”

  She shook her head in amazement. “They’re very lucky, aren’t they?” she said softly, almost to herself.

  Devlin heard her. “According to my dad, each of us makes our own luck.”

  Is that why he had proposed to her? Abby wondered as Devlin found an empty stall in front of the Humphrey Market and angle-parked the car. By putting everything between them down on paper, was he making his own luck this time?

  Yet his parents had made their marriage work. Anyone who had been around them could see the love between them. All thirty-five years’ worth.

  Even with their agreement, Abby couldn’t help wondering if she and Devlin wouldn’t need more than luck to guarantee their future. They had a lot of odds to overcome.

  Abby knew Devlin tried to make the meeting at the bank easy for her. She shook the hand of Mr. Barrens, the banker, answered the appropriate questions and signed the suitable forms without voicing any objections. When she asked about opening a separate account, he’d made the transaction relatively painless.

  Despite the resistance she sensed from Devlin, she did what she had to do. There was no way Devlin could understand what it was like to be so dependent, and there was no way to explain it.

  When she’d married John, for the first time in her life she’d believed she could count on another individual. She’d trusted him, and in the process, nearly lost everything. It had been a cruel shock to discover after his death, he had wiped out their entire savings account and had placed a second mortgage on their house.

  The creditors were demanding payment and she barely had enough money to keep Paige in shoes. Devlin’s proposal had come just in the nick of time. Yet, the idea of being totally dependent on another man, e
ven one of Devlin’s character, wasn’t wise.

  It would be so easy to forget the mistakes she’d made and lower her guard. Devlin’s home, his sons and the promise of a future were something she’d always wanted. Yearned for from the bottom of her heart. But she had Paige to think about. And now the baby. She couldn’t risk them, or Riley and Jason, either. Children were so vulnerable. If this marriage didn’t work out . . . if Devlin and she let each other down . . .

  She had to be prepared no matter how cushy and secure-looking the view was from the inside of this family situation. Nothing lasted forever. Nothing. Expectations ultimately led to disappointment.

  After they left the bank, Devlin directed her to the local market.

  She had just pulled out her grocery list, as Devlin snagged a cart, when a voice said, “Devlin Hamilton, what is this I hear about you getting married and not even telling your oldest and dearest friends?”

  Devlin winked at Abby before responding to a short, brown-eyed woman coming toward them. “I didn’t tell you because then you’d tell that no-good husband of yours. I couldn’t risk having him try to talk Abby out of marrying me before she was officially Mrs. Hamilton.”

  “I heard that,” a deeper voice said. “Afraid I’d tell her about all your vices?” A tall man, whose head almost touched the fluorescent lights that hung from the ceiling, came around the corner of the aisle.

  “You’re my one and only vice and I’ve been trying to ditch you for years but you keep hanging around.” Devlin’s growl belied the wide grin taking center stage on his face.

  From her husband’s relaxed demeanor, Abby realized immediately that this man and his wife were good and special friends of his.

  “Abby, I want you to meet Rebecca and Cash Castner,” Devlin wrapped his arms around Rebecca’s shoulders and gave them a squeeze. “Becky is a good woman except for her bad taste in men.”

  “You’re just jealous because I reeled in the only good woman in Humphrey.” Cash’s glib retort didn’t contain an ounce of anger. Obviously the two of them had plenty of practice trading barbs.