Maggie smiled and kissed his forehead. “I’m sorry, I guess my mind is in Massachusetts. Iris cut up some delicious fruit. I think they’ll love it.”
She put a large bowl of fruit and a few bowls on a tray andheaded for the dining room. As she walked, she let herself take in every familiar detail. The framed prints on the walls. The old wooden floor. The scent of coffee and citrus and something green from the herbs on the window ledge.
This was home now. Whatever happened in Massachusetts, whatever doors finally closed there, she had built another life in this place. Her family was scattered across states and houses and seasons, but somehow they all looped back to Captiva.
She carried the tray into the sitting room and set the bowl in the center of the side table.
“Fresh fruit from the farmer’s market,” she said. “I think you’ll love it.”
As guests thanked her, she let their chatter hum around her. For today, this was enough. Soon she’d stand in Andover’s empty kitchen, close another door, welcome new grandchildren into the world, and help her son and daughter-in-law find their own home. But in this moment, at the heart of the inn she loved, Maggie let herself feel the full weight and warmth of the path that had brought her here.
CHAPTER 2
Beth Walker stood at the kitchen window of the old farmhouse, one hand pressed against the small of her back, the other resting on the swell of her belly. Outside, the March morning hung gray and cold over the orchard, the bare branches of the apple trees reaching toward a sky that couldn't quite decide whether to rain or snow.
Thirty-seven weeks. She was thirty-seven weeks pregnant with twins, and every single one of those weeks had taken up residence somewhere in her body. Her ankles had disappeared sometime around Christmas. Her back ached in places she didn't know could ache. And the babies, her babies, had decided that three in the morning was the perfect time to practice synchronized kickboxing.
“You two are going to be trouble,” she murmured, rubbing a slow circle on her belly. “I can already tell.”
A kick answered her, sharp and definitive, somewhere near her ribs.
“That's what I thought,” she said.
Behind her, the farmhouse kitchen hummed with its usual morning sounds. The old radiator clanked and hissed. Coffeepercolated on the counter, filling the air with a smell that made her both hungry and slightly nauseous. Charlie, their chocolate lab, lay sprawled across the doorway to the living room, his tail thumping lazily against the floor every time she glanced his way.
The back door opened, bringing a rush of cold air and the sound of boots stomping on the mat.
“You're supposed to be sitting down,” Gabriel said as he came in, pulling off his work gloves. He had sawdust on his shirt and concern written across his face, which was more or less his permanent expression these days.
“I'm standing,” Beth said. “Standing is not the same as doing cartwheels.”
“The doctor said to rest.”
“The doctor said to take it easy. I'm looking out a window. It doesn't get much easier than that.”
Gabriel crossed the kitchen and wrapped his arms around her from behind, his chin resting on her shoulder. She felt him exhale, felt the tension in his chest as he looked out at the same gray morning.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Like a submarine that swallowed two smaller submarines.”
He laughed, a soft sound that vibrated against her back. “That's very specific.”
“I've had a lot of time to think about it.”
He kissed her temple. “Dad's got the workshop covered this morning. I thought I'd stay in the house, in case you need anything.”
Beth turned in his arms, which took some maneuvering given the size of her belly. She looked up at his face, at the worry lines that had deepened over the past few months and felt a wave of love so strong it almost hurt.
“Gabriel,” she said gently. “You've been hovering for weeks. You're going to wear a groove in the floor.”
“I'm not hovering. I'm being supportive.”
“You followed me to the bathroom last night.”
“I was getting a glass of water.”
“At three in the morning. And you stood outside the door.”
