The Rancher's Christmas Princess

He was looking in her eyes now. His mouth was grim, but his gaze was warmer than before. “I would never do that.”

She did reach out then. She laid her hand on his arm. Beneath the sleeve of his coat, she felt the strength of him, that steadiness she’d admired from the first. “Good. I didn’t think you would.”

He looked down at her hand. She withdrew it. He said, “It was wrong what she did. I don’t think I’ll ever get over that. But that’s not something the child has to know about. From what you’re describing, she was a good mother. A loving mother.”

“Oh, yes. She was.”

“I’ll, uh, focus on that.”

“I’m grateful that you will.” She wished she could make him truly understand the good, generous heart of her lost friend. But she didn’t really understand herself why Anne hadn’t done the right thing concerning her child’s father. She put her hands between her knees, rubbed them together—and gave it one more shot. “Anne was...so independent. She never wanted to be tied down. She had her work that she loved. I don’t think she ever planned to marry. And when she got pregnant with Ben... I don’t know. She was happy to be having a baby. She told me so more than once, when we would speak on the phone. And then after Ben was born, I could hear the joy in her voice every time she mentioned her baby. But she still had no desire to have a husband, to make the traditional sort of family.”