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any help," the girl announced.
    "She's an independent one." Connie turned to study the selection of spooled ribbons.
    "Like her father, I bet." Sara caught sight of the lace goods, laid out by the yard, and the stitched collars and cuffs. A bow caught her eye and she wondered how much it cost.
    "I guess she does get that from Gabe. It's funny, the impact a parent can have on a child." Connie, perhaps in anticipation, picked up a roll of velvet red ribbon. "She's adopted."
    Sara dropped the length of lace. "Adopted?"
    "Yes. Not many people know that." Connie sighed, her gaze settling on Sara's face, on her eyes.
    On eyes the same color as Mary's. Sara flicked her attention back to the lace goods, biting her lip. How foolish she'd been. She should have insisted on leaving after breakfast. Hadn't it been enough for her that no one had noticed the resemblance then?
    "Ann died of cancer, and that was probably the reason she could never conceive, or so the doctor thought. It was hard on both Gabe and Mary. She withdrew and didn't flash that button smile of hers for an entire year. Gabe—well, he just looked half dead inside, but he tried hard to get past his grief, because of the love he has for their daughter."
    Sara glanced up and saw Connie watching her. She felt terribly sad for their loss. "Ann must have been a kind person, to have loved an adopted child so much."
    "She was. Kind and gentle, frail, actually. Like she never quite belonged on this earth." Connie looked away, sorting through the selection of stockings. "How she loved that child."
    Iowe Ann my thanks too. Sara looked up at the sound of Mary's shoes clattering on the polished floor. The girl skipped into sight, all rich crimson velvet and full swishing skirts.
    "I love it." Sara couldn't stop the words; they just rolled right out of her heart. Maybe it was the little girl she thought so special, with her face pink with pleasure, her eyes shining, and her bow-shaped mouth flashing a beaming grin.
    The dress—a princess-style cut with a round neckline and narrow waist—was adorable. The full skirt was trimmed with fine white lace and red ribbon, and when Mary swirled around, a big, fat bow hung at an odd angle in back, from her attempt to tie it herself.
    "You look adorable." Connie dropped to her knees to retie the bow Sara ached to reach for.
    Sara took a step back, remembering who she was. She was not Mary's mother, not the woman who cooked for her and watched over her by day, not the one who comforted her when nightmares interrupted her sleep.
    "But this dress needs something. It's a little plain." Connie sounded puzzled. "What do you think, Sara?"
    "It could maybe use more lace to offset the lace on the hem." Sara knelt beside Connie for a better view of the dress.
    "I want a lace collar, like the one on that dress." Mary skipped to the rack and studied a deep blue sateen with cuffs and collar of cream lace.
    "You know I can't sew a stitch." Connie inspected the delicate lace on the blue dress.
    "I can." Sara's hand flew to her mouth. She had no right sewing for a child no longer hers, no right to steal such a pleasure.
    "Oh, thank you!" Mary's arms wrapped around Sara's waist, all enthusiasm and joy.
    "Sara, that's so nice of you. And you're a seamstress to boot!" Connie's smile told her gratefulness.
    "I see you three are still standing." Gabe strolled down the aisle, his lanky gait unhurried. "Mary, you haven't given Connie an apoplexy yet, have you?"
    "We haven't been shoppin' that long, Pa." She dashed into her father's strong arms. "I like this dress best."
    "It sure looks pretty on you." Gabe brushed back tangled curls from his daughter's brow, a gentle gesture from so powerful a man. A father's love shone in his eyes, and Sara adored him all the more for it. Every time she saw the love he had for Mary, he became a bigger, better man in her eyes.
    "And guess what? Sara's gonna put on a lace collar."
    "She is?" Gabe's dark blue eyes flashed up to meet