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finding a man in Lonesome Way she wanted to marry and stay married to—and to have a houseful of kids with—seemed to be dwindling like winter kindling.
    Her two best friends, Lissie and Sophie, both had great marriages and adorable children—Lissie an exquisite moppet named Molly and Sophie a little son, Aiden, who was a miniature spitting image of Sophie’s gorgeous husband, Rafe Tanner.
    And in another life, if Mia and Rafe’s brother Travis
had
gotten married as they’d dreamed way back in high school, they might have their own little boy now, too—one who was every bit as handsome as Travis. The thought gave her a sudden deep pang, which she quickly shook off, annoyed with herself.
    After all this time, Travis Tanner should have no power to upset her.
None
.
    Her infatuation with Rafe’s strapping younger brother had ended too many freaking years ago. High school. She’d been an idiot back then, a stupid, naïve teenager who’d believed Travis when he whispered that he loved her, that he would always love her.
    Maybe he’d believed it himself. Right up until the moment when he dumped her like a sack of mealy potatoes.
    She’d obviously been the only one to give her heart away. And Travis hadn’t hesitated to toss it back to her in bloody little pieces.
    She’d been sixteen then. The same age Brittany was now. And she’d been full of silly, romantic dreams, believing she and Travis would be together forever—one of those blissfully happy married couples who adore each other through the decades and are surrounded by scads of children and grandchildren.
    Well, she reminded herself as she listened to Sam apologize yet again, it wasn’t as if her track record with men was any worse than that of the other women in her family.
    “Listen, Sam, you need to hang tight right now.” She kept her tone upbeat, despite the worry gripping her. “I’m sure Britt will come home soon. And if she doesn’t—”
    She broke off suddenly as a red convertible streakedaround the corner two blocks ahead and roared down Larkspur Road.
    “Sam, wait a minute.” She interrupted her sister’s breathless worried chatter. “Hold on. I think…”
    The convertible barreled closer, straight toward her.
    Britt
drove a red convertible. A Mustang. Steve Duncan, her father, had bought it for her on her sixteenth birthday.
    Mia’s gaze was glued to the flashy little car and her breath caught in her throat. “Sam, wait. Listen to me—”
    The car squealed to a halt at the curb not ten feet from Mia’s Jeep. The skinny sixteen-year-old driver with dirty blond hair, wearing sleep pants and a T-shirt beneath a purple hoodie, tumbled out from behind the wheel.
    “Samantha, she’s all right,” Mia gasped. “Brittany’s all right. She’s
here.
”
    Her sister erupted into relieved weeping so loud Mia had to hold the phone away from her ear.
    “She looks fine. Don’t worry. Give me a few minutes with her, honey, and I’ll call you right back.”
    Tossing her cell onto the seat before Sam could answer, Mia sprang out of the Jeep.
    “Aunt M-Mia.” Leaning wearily against the convertible, her niece stared at her through tear-filled, sea blue eyes. “Please don’t try to make me go back. Because I w-won’t.”
    Britt might have her father’s eyes, but the mutinous expression on her face reminded Mia strongly of the way Sam had looked countless times after their mother had grounded her.
    “I
won’t
stay with my dad while Mom goes on her honeymoon. And she can’t make me. I’m not going back to Butte for the rest of the summer. You have to let me stay with you!”

Chapter Three
     

    Twenty minutes later, Mia watched Brittany swallow the last buttery bite of one of Sophie’s famous cinnamon buns.
    “I can’t make any promises,” she said as the girl stared at her with pleading eyes. “Your mom gets to decide where you stay.”
    They were sitting at the table in Mia’s small, comfortable kitchen. Wide windows framed by