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From the couch, Maverick makes a sound. I look up. He’s staring at me. Not at the picture. At me. His expression is so open that my breath catches. I look back down at the frame.

My family.

For most of my life, I knew exactly where I belonged. With Grandma and Grandpa. Then they were gone, and suddenly there was no one waiting for me. No one whose day was tangled up with mine. No one who would notice whether I came home for dinner or stayed out until midnight.

I thought what I missed was being needed.

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe this is what I missed. This. Somewhere to belong. Someone who expects me at breakfast. A little boy who writes my name wrong on Christmas presents. A grumpy man who puts Christmas ornaments near the top of the tree because he knows I’ll look for them there.

I reach for Shiloh and pull him against me. He comes easily. No hesitation anymore. His arms go around my neck. “Thank you,” I whisper.

His cheek presses against mine.

“You like it?”

“I love it.”

“It’s our family.”

“And I love our family,” I say. I say it to Shiloh, but when I look up, Maverick is still watching me. His eyes look a little misty.

Maverick gets up from the couch. He crosses the room and crouches beside us. “I love our family too,” he says in that deep, gravelly way of his.

Shiloh immediately leans into him too, because apparently we’re doing a group hug now.

Maverick’s arm comes around both of us. He kisses the top of Shiloh’s head, then leans down and brushes a quick kiss on my lips.

I came to Big Woods because I didn’t know where else to go. I married Maverick because Shiloh needed someone. I told myself I was good at taking care of people. That this was something I could do. A purpose. A job. A place where I could be useful.

But Shiloh isn’t hugging me because I cut the crust off his sandwiches.

Maverick isn’t holding me because I signed a contract, at least I don’t think he is. For the first time, I let myself admit the thing I’ve been carefully avoiding since I got here.

I don’t just want them to need me. I want them to want me as much as I want them. Legally, they’re my family. I hope someday it goes beyond that.

chapter

eighteen

Noelle

Shiloh has apparently decided his dinosaur hospital needs an emergency room, because he’s now dragging every single one of his stuffed animals into the great room.

“That’s a lot of patients,” Maverick says.

“There’s been an accident.”

“Oh, dear,” I say.

“A big one,” Shiloh says.

“Sounds serious.”

“It is.”

Maverick looks at me. “Should we call someone?”

Shiloh sighs. “Daddy. I’m the doctor.”