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their bags. It was all right; everything was going to be all right.
    â€œMam, you’re stunning! The most beautiful mother in all Texas. Did you design that silk dress yourself?”
    Billie nodded shyly as she noticed Maggie’s silk lounging outfit. “Didn’t I give that to you for Christmas? Let’s see . . . how many years ago?”
    Maggie laughed. “I don’t deal in those kinds of numbers anymore. You’re right, though; this is one of yours. I’d bet the rent that everyone in the family will be wearing a Billie Original today.”
    â€œYou look wonderful, Maggie. You look happy.”
    â€œI am, Mam, really happy. Come inside. Coleman—he wants to be called Cole—will be down in a minute. Thad, come along. You must be thirsty.”
    Billie approached the door. Everything was the same. The ethereal grace of Jessica’s rose garden and the feminine sweep of the pink clematis vine softened the heavy, masculine-looking oak doors, made them seem more welcoming. Inside would be the same, Billie suspected; Maggie wouldn’t have changed a thing. Shining oaken floors, massive beams studding the first-floor ceilings, thick dark Oriental carpets, and man-sized leather furniture. It ail bore Seth’s stamp; Jessica’s influence was nowhere apparent on the first floor of the house. Only outside and in the bedrooms could her whimsical and very feminine hand be felt. Billie imagined for a second that she could smell Seth’s cigar smoke. The great house of Sunbridge, Coleman domain. No, nothing had changed, and she doubted it ever would.
    Maggie embraced Thad affectionately. The tall man smiled down at her. Amazing how coming home to a pile of stone and brick could affect a person, he thought, how a true sense of belonging could bring out the best. “Just point me in the right direction,” he said, indicating the piece of luggage, “and I’ll be back before you know it.”
    â€œTop of the stairs, second door to the left,” Maggie said easily. “And if you see Cole up there, tell him it’s time for him to come downstairs. Someone will see to bringing the rest of your things upstairs and parking the car down by the garages.”
    Billie felt her breath explode in a loud sigh. She turned to look at her daughter.
    Maggie flinched. “Mam, you didn’t think I’d put you and Thad in your and Pap’s old bedroom, did you?”
    â€œI . . . I wasn’t sure,” Billie answered hesitantly. It was exactly what she’d thought.
    As though reading her mind, Maggie tilted her head and smiled shyly. “Friends, Mam?”
    Billie wrapped her arms around her daughter. “Always and forever, darling.”
    â€œWe’ve had some rough times, and some things can never be fixed. Someday I want to sit down and talk. Maybe to apologize, maybe to try and explain . . .”
    â€œIt isn’t necessary, Maggie. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy. That’s all any mother really wants for her children. Sometimes we make mistakes along the way, but if the intentions are good, somehow they right themselves in the end.”
    Maggie’s eyes were bright with unshed tears. “I’m being selfish; you’ve had a long trip and must want to freshen up, too. I’ll be out on the patio. I hope that scamp Cole didn’t run off on me. He says he doesn’t like parties.”
    Billie laughed. “I can remember a party or two that his mother managed to wriggle out of.”
    Maggie grimaced after Billie left the room. Where the hell was Cole, anyway? She wanted to show him off, but she was still worried that he’d do something to embarrass her. Billie’s reminder of how often she’d refused to attend family events was grim. She crossed her fingers. The boy would behave; she’d see to it. She decided the kitchen with its array of tempting food was the logical place to look for