“I don’t.”

“Mike, you’ve held yourself in that icy cocoon for too many years,” Garrett said gently. “Jenny’s chipped away at the ice, and there’s warmth under there. While you’re waiting for her to come around, use the warmth for someone other than yourself. Maybe Jenny can teach you how.”

“Jenny!”

“Yeah, Jenny,” Garrett said firmly. “If Jenny hadn’t found you-if she’d ended up destitute-maybe she would have given up her baby rather than see it starve. And if she did, would the hurt of losing her child have disappeared after all this time? I don’t think so, Mike, and neither do you.”

“Garrett, I…”

“Just look at the list,” Garrett said firmly. “Talk to Jenny about it. See what she thinks.”

“It’s none of her business.”

“If you want her to love you, you have to learn to share.” He hesitated. There was real pain on Michael’s face, and Garrett didn’t want to push it, but if the ice was cracking, he wouldn’t be the one to withhold the sledgehammer. “On Saturday night there’s a party at Megan’s to welcome Camille and Jake home from their honeymoon. It promises to be a real shindig. Fireworks, everything. Now her family’s all settled, Megan’s feeling like she’s on top of the world, and she’s showing it every way she can.”

“I’m not coming to any family party. You know I won’t.”

“Megan’ll be disappointed if you’re not there, little brother,” Garrett said, and hauled his lanky frame out of the chair. “And if we’re talking of hurting people, there’s one lady you’ll leave untouched. Hurt Megan and I’ll dust you down before breakfast. Or give it my best shot.” He shrugged and pushed the list across the desk again from where Michael had thrust it back at him. “Do what you can with that by Saturday. And bring Jenny to supper at my place first.”

“Hell, Garrett, I-”

“Treat her like family, Mike,” Garrett said kindly. “Maybe the lady’ll get used to it. Maybe she’ll even like it.”

JENNYWASFEELING part of the family, and she did like it. Every day the feeling grew a little bit stronger.

Lana came around and sorted baby clothes with her. She helped Jenny make up the crib, talked baby talk, and taught her how to change and bathe little Greg.

Shelby turned up with offerings of food. “I know that brother of mine can’t do more than open a can of beans,” she explained, “and you shouldn’t be doing any more than cooking toast in your condition.”

Garrett kept dropping in-“Just to see how my favorite sister-in-law is doing”-making her feel warm all over. And Megan came, too, just to check. One by one, all the Maitlands, curious at first and then warm and friendly, arrived at her front door and embraced her into their fold.

It was all making her feel so guilty she couldn’t bear it. Every night Michael came home and looked at her with those hungry eyes, and she wanted to drop everything and run into his arms and let him hold her forever and forever.

But she mustn’t. Because one day Michael would wake up like Peter had woken up, and he’d be trapped. And like Peter, he’d be too honorable and proud to walk away.

I promise…

How easy it had been to say those words. She held her arms over her pregnancy and hugged her unborn child as she thought things through. She couldn’t keep her promise. Even for Peter, she wouldn’t hand her baby over. But at what cost to herself?

Oh, Peter…

“YOU WANT TO GO to a party?”

Saturday afternoon. Michael finished writing and looked over to where Jen was brushing Socks. Damn, every time he was in the room she was doing something. It was almost a defense.

She looked up, her eyes a question.

“There’s a party at Megan’s tonight,” he told her. “To welcome Camille and Jake home. Supper at Garrett’s first.”

“How about you go without me?” she asked, turning her attention to a nonexistent knot in Socks’s fur. “It’s family.”

“Yeah, it’s family, so everyone expects you.”

“I’m hardly family.”

“If you can’t go because you’re feeling too pregnant, then they’ll expect me to stay home with you.” Hell, they sounded so absurdly formal. It was as if they were strangers.

“Michael…”

“Come with me, Jen,” he said urgently. He hesitated, then passed her the sheet of paper he’d been writing on. “We’re discussing this. Please. I need your support on this one.”

She sat back and read the list, then stared at him. “Names and addresses. I don’t understand.”

“They’re all the triplets born in this state in the same year we were born,” he told her. “Garrett gave it to me this week. He’s trying to find our birth mother. So far, I’ve tried to locate every person who had anything to do with the triplets on this list. I’ve been finding their current names and addresses and whether any of them could possibly be us. I’m whittling the list down.”

She stared at him, then at the list. “You did this?”

“Yeah.” He colored. “Like I said, Garrett asked me to.”

“But you said you wanted nothing to do with finding your birth mother. Why now?” She grabbed a chair leg and hauled herself up from where she’d been kneeling on the floor. Michael made an involuntary move to help her, then pulled back. He knew by now what her reaction would be.

“Why?” she asked him again, her eyes not moving from his face. She knew this was important.

And it was.

“I’ve been watching you, Jen,” he said softly. “I’ve been seeing your pain at what’s happening. Even before your baby’s born, you’re being torn apart by what’s best for him. And maybe I’m seeing…” His voice died away as he looked at her.

“That what was best for you might have torn your own mother apart,” Jen said gently. “Oh, Michael.”

“Yeah, well, I haven’t found anyone yet,” he said gruffly. “But maybe I’m giving her the benefit of the doubt by trying.”

She looked at the list. “But…”

“Yeah, but! There’s maybes all over the place,” he told her. “Come to Garrett’s with me, and we’ll talk about it.”

How could she refuse an invitation like that?

THEY STOPPED downtown first.

“If you’re coming to the party with me, you deserve to wear something decent,” Michael told her.

“Then stop at the camping store,” Jenny said, half serious. “A tent’s all I’ll fit into. Three-man, at least.”

“No camping store. Lana told me where to go.” He closed his ears to her protests, pulled to a halt in front of an upscale maternity store and then proceeded to take charge, just as he had with the baby clothes. While Jenny muttered protestations about interfering males, he delved through one rack after another and finally found what he wanted.

“This,” he said firmly, and she stared.

It was gorgeous-a soft, gold silk maternity dress with a scooped neckline and no sleeves. It was gathered under the breast with white and gold ribbon, then fell away to just below the knee in yards and yards of gorgeous, silken folds.

It would look fabulous on a nonpregnant woman. On Jenny’s bulk, she wasn’t so sure. But the sales assistant and Michael propelled her into the fitting room and refused to let her out until she’d tried it on. To her surprise, the dress swirled around her in soft folds like a wondrous golden cloud. She looked maternal and serene and very, very lovely.

“You’ll be able to wear it after the baby’s come,” the saleslady assured her, staring into the mirror at Jenny’s reflection. “Oh, it’s just beautiful, and it’ll be perfect even after you get your waistline back.”

“I’m never getting my waistline back-I left it in England,” Jenny said darkly. “Michael, this is ridiculous. What a waste.”

“It’s not a waste, Jenny,” he told her, turning her by her shoulders to face the mirror again. “Look at yourself and tell me just how ridiculous you are.”

“Michael…”

“Just look.”

So she did, and what she saw made her stare. Sure, this was a maternity dress, but it was made for someone young and beautiful. It seemed to light her up from inside. It made her hair gloss around her face and deepened the blush on her cheeks. It made her feel…

It made her feel nineteen again. Young, beautiful, desirable. All the things that Peter had knocked out of her with his disparaging comments and his suggestions that she was inferior to the women who moved in his social circles.

Her lips twitched involuntarily into the beginnings of delight, and Michael saw and smiled his satisfaction.

“You like it. That makes the pair of us. We’ll buy it.”

“Michael, it’s way too expensive.” But her protest was feeble.

“All the better to waste my money on. Come on, Cinderella. Let’s head for the ball before your pumpkin escapes from under there!”

“It’s a funny thing.” The saleslady laughed as she took Michael’s money. “Nearly every time I sell a maternity dress this close to term, the woman comes back later-and thinner-and says the baby arrived almost right away. It’s like a lucky charm. I wonder if it’ll happen this time?”

“It had better not,” Jenny said, startled, and she glared at her bulge. “You hear that, pumpkin? You stay right there.”

“Come on, then, Cinderella,” Michael said, and grabbed her hand. “Let’s go. Midnight’s coming up fast.”

IT WASN’T quite a ball, but it might as well have been for the enjoyment she had. Supper at Garrett’s was fun. The whole family made her feel welcome, and although Jenny felt more and more like she was being drawn in out of her depth, there was no way she could not enjoy herself. They were so happy-Lana and her Dylan, big, kindly Garrett and possessive Shelby, who’d checked Jenny out from every angle and decided she’d share this precious brother of hers.

The mood was lighthearted, but there was also the hint of suspense-a suspense that ended when Garrett said over coffee, “Okay, Michael. What have you got for us?”