Free Perfect Family by Patricia; Potter Page A

reserved, even shy, with strangers. Alex’s easy manner had torn down some of her wariness, and now she felt caught in a glow of belonging.
    â€œI’m … not sure,” she said, almost stuttering. She had tried so hard to stay objective, but she found herself melting under all the acceptance she felt. A family . A family that seemed absolutely perfect.
    â€œYou look just like the pictures of Sarah when she was young,” Marc Clements said. “She pulled them out before you arrived.”
    â€œI was just going to show them to her,” Sarah said. Jessie thought she heard irritation in her voice. Or was it merely impatience?
    If it was there, Marc Clements ignored it. “We’ve been hoping you would stay longer than this weekend. Family is important to us all.” A very pretty blond woman came over to him, and the congressman put his arm around her. “This is Samantha, my wife and best political asset.”
    â€œJessica,” Samantha acknowledged, but her eyes didn’t warm as her husband’s had. Jessie had the sudden, unpleasant impression of being under a microscope, and the viewer was looking for a particularly obnoxious bug. But then Samantha smiled, and Jessie could see why the congressman had said what he had about her being a political asset. She also wondered whether she had been mistaken, whether she’d read something into a moment’s hesitation that didn’t belong there.
    â€œPlease call me Jessie,” she said. “Everyone does.”
    â€œBut Jessica is such a pretty name,” Samantha said.
    â€œOnly my father called me that,” she said in a voice tighter than she intended.
    The silence was deafening. It was the first time, she suddenly realized, that he had been mentioned. He was, however, like a ghost in the room. She hadn’t realized it until this moment.
    â€œDon’t you all monopolize her.” The booming voice belonged to a tall, commanding figure of a man standing next to a tiny woman. He had blue eyes like the congressman, but they were a paler shade, almost gray.
    Marc smiled wryly and turned to him. “Jessie, this is my brother, Cullen, and his wife, Sondra. Those identical images in the corner are his twin sons.”
    â€œShe sure is as pretty as a Clements,” Cullen said. “She looks just like Sarah …”
    Marc had charisma, but this man was like a bounding Labrador retriever. He had an exuberance that made his brother look reticent and reserved.
    He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, making her feel indeed like the long-lost prodigal daughter.
    Jessie felt almost inconsequential between the force of these two men, both of whom seemed determined to make her feel as if she belonged. She tried to reclaim part of herself. “You’re the one who built the Quest,” she said. “It’s wonderful. Thank you for letting me stay there.”
    â€œDelighted, cousin.” He looked at Marc. “I told you she would like it.”
    Marc glanced at Sarah, whose face tightened. Jessie felt a sudden chill as she noted the exchange. She was aware of a tension between the three, almost as if the brothers were claiming some kind of subtle triumph.
    She felt a tug on her arm. “I am going to steal her away,” Sarah said.
    Jessie allowed herself to be led from the room, grateful for a moment’s reprieve from that momentary discomfiture from the many faces, from the expectation she saw in them. Suddenly, she felt overwhelmed, caught in the eye of a storm she didn’t really understand.
    She was aware of eyes following her. Friendly eyes, mostly, she thought, but something else hovered in the air. She felt an edge, a watchfulness.
    Sarah led her down the hall to a large bedroom. The hardwood floor was covered by a colorful woven rug, the walls by western paintings. A fireplace was framed by two large windows that looked out over the mountain she’d seen on the