of house and home. Within days she put on enough weight to hide her painfully thin rib cage, though Jack suspected that might also have something to do with the treats Annalise and Isabella were sneaking the dog whenever his back was turned.
The days flashed by, exhausting, exhilarating and filled with warmth and laughter and plain, old-fashioned fun. He’d never seen Isabella so carefree, even though she still refused to speak. Between Annalise and Madam she was mothered to within an inch of her life.
Not that he was left out of the mix. As often as his niece could be found in Annalise’s arms or sprawled across Madam’s back, she spent an equal amount of time curled up in his lap. He hoped their familial connection helped heal her grief the way it helped heal his. Their time together seemed to be making a difference, but he could still sense an undercurrent of sorrow that he had no idea how to reach, let alone assuage. As though sensing his mixed emotions, Madam would rumble over to rest her huge head on his knee and offer licks of reassurance while Annalise watched with her incandescent smile. That smile made him long for something else, something more. Something that would complete their family unit.
But the true breakthrough happened one morning shortly before they were scheduled to leave. The sun had barely broken the plane of the horizon when his bedroom door banged open and the next instant his mattress overflowed with dog, niece, doll and a huge picture book that smacked him square in the jaw as Isabella snuggled down next to him.
“Baby Belle?” he asked sleepily. “What’s wrong?”
She shoved the book into his hands and patted it, blinking up at him with absurdly long lashes. Her dimple flashed. Madam settled her huge head on his spare pillow with a wide yawn and promptly went back to sleep.
“You want me to read to you?” Jack asked. She nodded, leaning her head against his chest. Her halo of curls, still pillow-ruffled, were downy soft and seemed to have a mind of their own. A sudden memory came to him. “This is … this is Family Bed, isn’t it?” he asked gruffly.
She nodded and patted the book again. Before he could gather himself sufficiently to read, he heard Annalise shuffling in the general direction of his niece’s bedroom.
“Isabella? Madam? Hey, where is everyone?”
“She’s in here,” he called. “We’re all in here.”
Annalise appeared in the doorway, her curls as tumbled and ruffled as his niece’s. She pulled up short at the sight of all of them piled in his bed. “Oh,” she said, disconcerted. “There you are. What … what are you doing?”
“It’s Family Bed,” he offered.
She blinked at him in utter bewilderment. “What’s Family Bed?”
And he’d thought he’d been deprived. He wondered why she’d never experienced something so wondrous. What had her childhood been like that she’d never known the pleasure of curling up with her parents and siblings in one big bed? Even he, with his dearth of close family ties had, for one sweet summer, known the joy of Family Bed.
“Every Sunday my mother, stepfather, and Joanne would collect books and newspapers, coffee and juice, and spend the first couple of hours of the day in bed together.” He glanced down at his niece, tucked close to his side. “I gather Joanne continued the tradition.”
A wistful smile teased at the corners of Annalise’s mouth. “It sounds lovely.”
“Why don’t you join us?”
A sweeping flash of vulnerability betrayed her longing to do just that and made Jack think of a child with her nose pressed to the candy store window, always on the outside looking in. Never allowed a taste of heaven. He’d had close and personal experience with that particular emotion, having iced up his nose on that window on more than one occasion. Then her expression vanished as though it had never been, and he could only marvel at her self-control.
“I don’t think it would be appropriate for me to join you.” She edged toward the door. “I’ll just get breakfast started while you and Isabella enjoy reading together.”
“We can fix breakfast later on. Right now it’s time for Family Bed.” He nudged his niece. “Isn’t that right?”
She nodded eagerly and held out her arms to Annalise, who wavered, clearly torn between a desire to share in something she’d never encountered before and longed to experience, and maintaining a professional distance.
“Come on, Stefano. You’re needed here.”
He’d said the exact right thing. Her