Jingle Bell Babies

She ventured farther into the room, aware that Jesse had put her suitcase down and moved aside to allow her to explore.

A queen-size antique four-poster bed, covered by a double wedding-ring quilt, dominated the room. Hand-hooked wool rugs had been strategically placed in front of the matching nightstands and the window. All places where bare feet might linger.

A sepia-toned photo of a man and woman held a prominent place on the wall above the headboard. Instead of staring somberly at the camera, typical for photographs taken during that era, the young couple was smiling at each other.

“My ancestors, Will and Emmeline Logan.” Jesse stood beside her and Lori’s heart did that crazy skip-hop thing again. “Will and Zeb Garrison founded High Plains in 1858, and Will married Emmeline a few years after that.”

Lori forced herself to concentrate on the photo instead of the appealing, masculine scent of the man standing beside her.

More than a hundred years separated the two men, and yet the family resemblance was uncanny. Will Logan had the same bone structure—angular jaw and deep-set eyes—but his smile held a hint of mischief. “Was it your great-grandfather who started the Circle L?”

Jesse nodded. “He built the house for Emmeline. The ranch has been run by one of their descendants ever since.”

Lori felt a stab of envy. What would it feel like to be part of such a strong family line? To share a legacy that had bonded its members together for more than a hundred years?

Her own family had splintered and fallen apart the summer after Lori had graduated from high school.

“It’s beautiful,” she murmured. “You must feel very blessed.”

“Not everyone would agree with your opinion.” Jesse pivoted sharply on his heel. “I’ll show you the rest of the house and then I have to get to work. Clay is probably already in the barn waiting for me.”

Lori found herself staring at his retreating back.

Not everyone would agree…

Agree with what? That his home was beautiful—or that he’d been blessed?

The headache that had anchored its claws in the back of Jesse’s skull during the night finally worked its way around to his temples.

He hadn’t expected Lori Martin’s innocent questions to bring back an avalanche of memories…and regrets.

Marie had never described the house as beautiful. The first time she visited she labeled it “quaint,” and Jesse, who’d taken it as a compliment, remembered thanking her. But several months after the wedding, she’d complained the rooms were too small and she felt cramped without adequate storage space. Without discussing it with him first, she’d talked to her father. Philip not only had an architect draw up a new blueprint, but then generously offered to pay the expenses so they could build something more suited to their style.

What Marie didn’t understand was that the ranch was Jesse’s style.

And he thought it had been hers.

Memories lapped against the walls Jesse had shored up around his heart.

The truth was, both of them had assumed a lot about each other.

They’d met at a rodeo, when Marie had come to town on what she described as a “girls’ getaway” weekend. She sat down next to Jesse on the makeshift bleachers, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she told him that her friends had dared her to kiss a cowboy.

Unable to resist her charming smile, Jesse planted his favorite Stetson on Marie’s head and kissed her on the cheek instead, surprised at his own boldness.

They had dinner that evening. And the next.

Marie extended her weekend stay to an entire week. When she finally left, she took Jesse’s heart with her. After more than ten years of pouring his heart and soul into making the ranch a success, he’d been ready for someone to share it with.

Jesse had always been the levelheaded one when it came to life and relationships, but in spite of Maya’s reservations, he proposed to Marie on Valentine’s Day and they married less than six months later.

Unfortunately, it hadn’t taken long for Jesse to realize that Marie had a romanticized, Hollywood view about life on a ranch. Emergencies ignited like brush fires, and as the owner of the Circle L, it was Jesse’s responsibility to put them out. Night or day. Marie started to resent the hours he spent apart from her. She resisted Maya’s attempts to befriend her, and refused to become part of the tight-knit community, but still complained that she was bored.

Bitterness scoured the lining of Jesse’s stomach. He’d opened his heart and taken a risk. And in the end he’d lost.

He didn’t blame Marie, he blamed himself. He’d written a fairy tale of his own—one in which he and his wife would work side by side during the day and sit together on the porch swing in the evening, waiting for the first star to appear in the sky. They’d laugh together. Raise a family together. The way his parents had.

But the reality? More arguments than laughter. And too many nights when Jesse had sat on the porch swing alone while Marie sat inside watching television or talking on the phone.

He didn’t feel blessed.

“Mr. Logan? Jesse?” Lori Martin stood beside him, concern reflected in the depths of her amber eyes. “Is something wrong?”

Jesse’s lips twisted.

Maybe she was worried that she’d agreed to work for someone who was losing his mind. Not that Jesse blamed her. A few times over the past few months, he’d wondered about that himself.

He frowned as his gaze dropped to the constellation of pale cinnamon freckles dotting the bridge of Lori’s nose.

Funny, he hadn’t noticed them until now.

With a jolt, Jesse realized he hadn’t noticed how young she was, either. Probably in her mid-twenties. Her smile seemed to appear without warning or reason, and the lively sparkle in her eyes was evidence of a life that hadn’t been touched by disappointment.

Lucky her.

Lori’s response to his bluff the night before, when he offered and she accepted the nanny position, had left him stunned. It wasn’t until Jesse watched her car glide up the driveway that he let himself believe she’d really accepted the position. And even then, he half expected to see her do a U-turn and hightail it back to town.

He’d stopped asking God for help a long time ago, but if Jesse didn’t know better, he’d be tempted to think He was still looking out for him anyway.

Lori felt her face grow warm and she shifted uncomfortably under Jesse’s intense perusal. Had her mascara smeared? Did she have a smudge of grape jelly on her nose?

An unhappy squawk on the other side of the door saved her from having to ask.

She and Jesse instinctively turned toward the sound.

“Brooke.” They said the name at exactly the same moment.

Lori grinned at the expression on Jesse’s face and she shrugged. “She’s always the first one awake and ready to eat in the morning.”

A shadow darkened Jesse’s eyes. “I keep forgetting that you…know them.”

Know them. Love them. Had even held them in her arms before Jesse….

Lori decided those thoughts were best kept to herself as she stepped into the nursery to say good morning to the girls.

She blinked, giving her eyes a moment to adjust to the shock.

Someone had painted the room…pink. But not a delicate, seashell-pink. A bright, vibrant, sensory-overload shade of Post-it Note pink.