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poured himself a cup of coffee. This was the first time he'd had a chance to speak to Sharon without interruptions. He knew she was eager to hear about Reba, and he had a few questions of his own. Clearly things had gone drastically wrong between her and Jerry.

"Want some?" he asked, automatically filling a mug for her. He carried both to the table and took the seat across from his mother-in-law.

"You're dating?"

Sharon never had been one to hedge when she wanted to know something.

"We haven't known each other long," he said, wanting to make light of his involvement with Reba.

"It's this woman the children mentioned?"

"Reba," he said. "She owns a travel agency, and stepped in at the last minute and took over coordinating the Christmas program."

"The children certainly seem to like her."

"They do." He didn't add that his own feelings for Reba grew stronger by the day.

"I was the one who used to sing to the children at night," Sharon whispered, a faraway look in her eye. "It was a song I once sang to Pamela, an old German lullaby my mother taught me. When the twins first came to live with Jerry and me I'd sit in their room at night with the lights off." She paused and nibbled on her lower lip. "Singing that familiar song helped me accept that my daughter was forever gone. Having the children with me gave me purpose again. Judd remembers. He was so young, but he remembers."

Seth knew this was difficult for Sharon. He reached across the table and squeezed her hand. "Pamela will always be their mother."

"I know," she said bravely. "I don't begrudge you happiness, Seth."

"I didn't think for a moment that you did."

Her gaze wandered down the hallway toward the bedrooms. "Judd and Jason appear to have adjusted well."

"We've had our moments." He didn't elaborate, but more than once he'd been tempted to reach for the phone and call Sharon. It had taken every bit of restraint he possessed not to plead with her to take over, to admit that he couldn't handle the kids on his own. His lowest point had been just before Mrs. Miracle arrived. Mrs. Miracle, the kids had him doing it now. Mrs. Merkle.

"Mrs. Merkle's a wonder."

Seth couldn't agree with her more. "It's good to see you again, Sharon."

She looked away. "But you're wondering what I'm doing here now. I wasn't scheduled to arrive until next week."

"The thought had crossed my mind," he admitted, thinking of last night's angry phone call.

"Jerry and I - "

The doorbell interrupted her, and she glanced over her shoulder.

"I'm not expecting anyone." It was after nine, and he doubted that the paperboy would be collecting this late.

While he answered the door, Sharon stood and walked over to the refrigerator to take out the milk.

"Sorry," he said on his way to the door. "I forgot you like your coffee with cream."

"No problem." She looked much better today, he mused. Her color was back, and some of the weariness had left her eyes.

He checked the peephole and then, astonished, hurriedly opened the door for his father-in-law. "Jerry," he said, trying to hide his shock, "this is a pleasant surprise."

He heard the crash behind him and whirled around to find the coffee mug shattered across the kitchen floor and Sharon looking at her husband as if viewing a ghost.

Chapter 19

Too many people offer God prayers with claw marks all over them.

- Mrs. Miracle

Sharon couldn't have been more surprised if Elvis himself had showed up at the front door. Certainly the last person she'd expected to see was her own husband. She'd have thought he'd rather pluck chickens than chase after her. Not that he was exactly chasing her.

They stood a room apart, staring at one another, each waiting for the other to speak first. Neither seemed willing to be the first to breach the gap.

"I came to talk to my wife," Jerry announced stiffly to Seth.

"Talk...fine. I'm sure you two would like some privacy."

"That won't be necessary," Sharon said, preferring that her son-in-law stay in the room. If Jerry assumed they could neatly sweep everything under the carpet, he'd made a wasted trip.

"The hell it isn't," Jerry argued. "I didn't come all this way to be left standing on the porch twiddling my thumbs."

To Sharon's way of thinking, that was exactly where he deserved to be. The man had put her through hell. By the time she'd arrived in Seattle she could barely function emotionally. Her husband and her