“Actually, she looks enough like you that she could be yours,” Annajane pointed out.

“She is just perfect,” Annajane said, gazing down into Sophie’s familiar blue eyes. She touched a fingertip to the baby’s hand, and Sophie’s fingers instinctively curled around her own. Annajane was enchanted.

She found herself dropping by Pokey’s whenever she knew Sophie was in residence. Annajane had always adored Pete and Pokey’s three boisterous sons, but her attachment to Mason’s daughter was somehow deeper, and mutual.

As soon as Sophie was walking, she would run immediately to Annajane. When she could speak, Annajane’s was one of the first names she said, right after Daddy and Pokey. If she was fussy, as she often was until she was almost two, Annajane was often the only one who could soothe her or rock her to sleep.

And if Mason was uncomfortable with his daughter’s obvious preference for his ex-wife, he never showed it. He might be stiff or distant with Annajane when they were alone together, but he seemed genuinely grateful for her relationship with Sophie, and he made it a point to include Annajane in any family function centered on the child, to his mother’s obvious annoyance.

When Annajane mentioned Sallie’s pointed coolness toward her after Sophie’s third birthday party, Pokey laughed it off. “Mama’s just jealous,” she said. “Sophie won’t even look at her if you’re in the room.”

*   *   *

As she sat beside Mason now, on his ruined wedding day, Annajane wondered, once again, if Celia would attempt to discourage Sophie’s relationship with her. And she had no intention of sharing her reservations about Celia’s parenting skills or maternal temperament.

“Celia is an extremely competent person,” Annajane said guardedly. “I’ll bet she’s never failed at anything. She’ll handle this, too.”

“What do you mean, handle?” Mason asked, frowning.

“Nothing,” Annajane said.

“Pokey hates Celia,” Mason said. “I wish she’d lighten up a little. I think she’d like Celia, if she gave her half a chance.”

“Maybe,” Annajane said, wishing he would change the subject. “You know Pokey. Nothing if not opinionated.”

Mason tapped his fingertips on the steering wheel. “So,” he said, after a long silence. “How’s it feel to be moving away after all these years in Passcoe?”

Annajane exhaled slowly. “Good.” She hesitated, looking out the window. Wildflowers bloomed in roadside ditches, and she caught a glimpse of a bluebird, perched on a power line. “Scary.”

“Change is good,” Mason said, nodding for emphasis. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’ll be missed. You’ve done a damned good job for us. I don’t think Davis is gonna know what to do without you.”

She wished, fleetingly, that Mason had said he didn’t know what he’d do without her. “Davis will figure it out. And Tracey, the new girl, she’s a fast learner.”

“Farnham-Capheart is lucky to be getting you,” Mason said. “I told Joe Farnham that when he called to make sure I didn’t have any problem with his hiring you.”

“He checked with you? Before offering me the job?” Annajane couldn’t believe it. Farnham-Capheart had been Quixie’s advertising agency for years, and Annajane had worked closely with Lacey Parini, the account exec assigned to Quixie. When Lacey decided to become a stay-at-home mom after the birth of her second child, she’d encouraged Annajane to apply for her old job.

Annajane had had lots of job offers over the years, but it wasn’t until Celia Wakefield joined Quixie that she’d ever considered a career change.

“He called me as a professional courtesy,” Mason assured her. “You know how Joe is. I guess we’re probably his biggest account, and he didn’t want to rock the boat.”

She didn’t know what to say, didn’t know why she hated the idea that Joe Farnham thought he had to get Mason’s approval before offering her a job. Suddenly, a thought occurred to her. Maybe Mason had actually asked Farnham to find a job for her. Maybe he thought it would be just too awkward to have his ex-wife working with his new wife.

Or maybe it had all been Celia’s idea. Annajane clenched her teeth, thinking of the indignity of it. Never mind. It didn’t matter how her new job came about. She’d wanted a change; she’d gotten a change.

Mason obviously knew he’d somehow strayed into dangerous territory. He cleared his throat.

“So,” he said, casually. “Have you, and uh, your fiancé set a date?”

“Shane,” Annajane said. “His name is Shane. We’re thinking fall, probably.”

“Not til then, huh?” Mason sounded surprised. “Any reason for waiting?”

“Shane’s a musician, you know,” Annajane said. “He plays Dobro in a bluegrass band, and spring and summer is their busiest time, with all the outdoor music festivals. I want to get settled into my new job before I have to worry about planning a wedding. Not that we’re planning anything elaborate.”

“Gotcha,” Mason said, nodding his head. “Bluegrass? What’s the name of his band, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“I don’t mind at all,” Annajane said proudly. “It’s called Dandelion Wine. They have a CD coming out in September. Shane wrote most of the songs himself.”

“Have to look into that,” Mason said.

Annajane laughed. “Oh please. You always hated bluegrass. And country.”

“No!” Mason exclaimed. “You’ve got me all wrong. I love Alison Krauss.”

“Okay, whatever,” Annajane said, unconvinced. “I’ll send you one when it comes out.”

“Sweet.”

He made the turn onto Main Street, where Annajane rented a loft above the old K&J Drygoods Store. “What’s Ruth think about all this?”

“She’s happy for me,” Annajane said briefly. “Although I’ll be a lot farther away in Atlanta. With Leonard gone, I hate to think about her living alone down there on the coast. I’m trying to talk her into moving. My aunt Nancy’s a widow now, too, and she’d like Mama to come live with her down in Florida. But you know Mama. She’s pretty set in her ways.”

“What’s she think about you getting remarried?”

“She loves Shane,” Annajane said. “They’ve gotten really close. His own mother died when he was twenty, and I think Mama always wanted a son.”

“Good for him,” Mason said. “I’m glad she approves of the new guy, since she never cared for me.”

Annajane sighed. They both knew that was putting it mildly. Ruth Hudgens didn’t like Mason any better than she liked his parents. The night Annajane came home with Mason’s engagement ring on her finger, mother and daughter had the biggest fight of their lives. Annajane had fled the house and moved in briefly with Pokey and Pete. Leonard, always the peace maker, had brokered an uneasy truce between mother and daughter, but the damage had been done.

Ruth adamantly refused to take any part in the planning of Annajane’s wedding, and Annajane had just as adamantly refused to let Leonard pay for any of it.

Mason pulled the car to the curb in front of her second-floor loft. “Okay,” he said, obviously still uneasy at being alone with her. “Here you go.”

“Thanks for the ride,” she said. It was so weird, so awkward, having him drop her off like this. She flashed back to all those nights years ago, when he would park his car down the block from her parents’ house, so they could exchange their urgent, passionate good nights without Ruth’s knowing who she’d been out with. There would be no kisses, no desperate groping, no disheveled clothes to rearrange tonight.

“G’night,” she said, jumping from the car.

11

Mason woke with a start. He sat up in bed and listened intently. For a moment, he thought maybe he’d heard Sophie, oak floorboards creaking gently underfoot as she crept down the hallway to his bedroom, as she used to do before Celia moved in and put a firm but loving stop to that.

And then he remembered, Sophie was in the hospital. It was his wedding night, and he was alone.