Free In a Mother’s Arms by Jillian Hart, Victoria Bylin Page A

each for the girls, she tried not to watch the girls and their father. The girls sat side by side on the bench while Sam knelt on the floor, bandaging Penelope’s hand.
    She gathered up both little packages and by the time she’d circled the end of the front counter, she made sure she had a smile on her face.
    “This should make both of you feel a little bit better.” She presented the bundles to Prudence. “Perhaps you could carry this for your sister?”
    “Yes’m. Thank you so much, Miss Molly.”
    “Yes, thank you.” The intensity of Penelope’s smile had changed.
    Everything had changed. Molly swallowed hard, trying to ignore the rawness in her midsection. She gave a tug on each girl’s sunbonnet brim. “It was a pleasure seeing you two, but I hope the rest of your day is less eventful.”
    “Me, too. I only got one other hand.” Penelope wiggled her good fingers. “I can’t climb into our fort.”
    “Or lasso Sukie if she runs off.”
    “Or climb over the rocks at the creek.”
    “I guess you two will have to stay home with Kathleen for a few days until this heals up right.” Sam winked at them. “You’ll have to be proper. Maybe learn needlework.”
    “My hand, Pa?” Penelope showed him the bandage as a reminder.
    “I know. Sewing is out of the question, but a father can have hope. Maybe you can sit with me in the library.”
    “You could read the plays to us.” Prudence, hopeful, sidled close to her twin, gazing adoringly at her strong, gentle father. “The one with Viola—”
    “—the girl that dresses up like a boy.” Penelope finished, all hope.
    “ Twelfth Night it is.” Sam rose to his six-foot height. Hard not to be impressed by his dependable shoulders and stalwart kindness. “Molly, thank you for all you’ve done for my daughters.”
    He may have been talking about cleaning Penelope’scut and comforting the girl, or perhaps sweeping up the mess in front of the window, but she suspected he was thanking her for more. Much more.
    She felt a pang of hope in her heart. A hope she could not simply give in to. Maybe there was a chance his courting was sincere. Maybe.
    “Helping your girls was my pleasure.” She opened the door. Fresh May sun streamed in like a celebration of life and love. “I hope you feel better, Penelope.”
    “I do. Now.” Although the child walked by and did not reach out, her need was like a small hand grasping the strings of Molly’s heart.
    “I’m real sorry my shoe got caught on the table leg.”
    “I’m real sorry about the cookies.”
    Impossible not to love those darling girls just a little bit more. “I’m glad you both are all right.”
    “I apologize.” Sam hesitated, taking the weight of the door, close enough that she could see the texture of his morning stubble whiskering his lean jaw. “Calamity finds them.”
    “Those two are catastrophes in calico.” And the dearest. She steeled her mother’s need to love those girls, refusing to catch a glimpse of the two through the window, where they waited on the boardwalk for their father.
    “If the money I left with you doesn’t cover all the damage, you will have Mrs. Kraus bill me?”
    “She isn’t going to be happy about it. Just a warning.” Molly forced her thoughts to the incident, a safe topic, one that would not tear her emotions apart. “I’ll do what I can to calm her.”
    “I appreciate it.” Again, it seemed as if he was sayingmore as he tipped his hat. “I would hate for the girls to be banned from the bakery.”
    “I would, too.” They shared a smile, but it felt like more. It felt like a tender recognition, like two lonely souls finding their match. “Goodbye, Sam.”
    “Goodbye, Molly.” When he said her name, his tone deepened, as if with great meaning, with high regard. No longer reserved, no longer frosty, no longer keeping his distance, Sam brushed by her, and she felt the weight of his shadows and the spark of hope.
    You will not fall in love with him,