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women who could keep it all together, managing house and home with ease. Fine. “At least I’m doing my best,” she told her reflection. “That should count for something, shouldn’t it?”
    She turned away from the mirror, not giving herself—or that despicable, nagging inner voice—time to answer the question. Because she was afraid she knew what that answer would be.
    Instead, she resolved to do better, starting now. She wasn’t going to give in to the fatigue anymore. She would beat thisstupid disease, lose the weight, get her energy back, and that was that.
    Hadn’t her mother always said, “You can do anything when you put your mind to it?” So that’s what she would do. Put her mind, heart, and soul into being the best wife and mother possible.
    Her family deserved nothing less.
    Determination straightening her spine, she put a bright smile on her face and went to open the front door and welcome her family home.
    It was early in the morning when Anne heard Faith’s voice drift from the living room into the hallway.
    “Read it again, Daddy.”
    Ah yes, it was Saturday.
    Anne went to peer into the living room. What she saw lifted her lips in a warm smile.
    Jared was sitting back in his recliner, Faith cuddled on his lap, his hands holding their favorite book,
Make Way for Ducklings
. Ever since Captain Kangaroo featured the book on his morning show, Faith loved to hear it read over and over. She never tired of it. Or of having her daddy read to her.
    Even now, she leaned her head back against Jared’s broad chest, one hand reaching up to pat her father’s face as he read.
    Jared’s cheek rested against Faith’s soft hair. Anne leaned against the doorway and couldn’t hold back another smile as she listened to him changing his voice from one character to another.
    Faith followed the story, clearly entranced. Jared was enjoying himself as much as Faith, and he never seemed to tire of this Saturday morning ritual, either. Without fail, right after Anne brushed Faith’s hair—which was a trial, considering that Faith hated having it done and Anne often ran out of patience with trying to brush a fidgeting target—the little girl scooped up the book and padded to the kitchen to find her father. It was as though Faith had decided this was herreward for suffering through the dreaded hair brushing.
    Anne held back a sigh. How well she recalled her own mother brushing her hair. She’d loved the feel of her mother’s hands as she coaxed the tangles free, the way they’d talked and sung songs together. That was their special time together each morning, and Anne had been so sure it would be the same with Faith and her.
    Guess again.
    What Faith loved was the Saturday reading time with Jared. She slipped into the chair beside him at the kitchen table, book held against her chest, peering up at him, waiting for him to finish eating breakfast. Jared knew the moment he put down his fork, the question would come.
    “Now, Daddy?”
    Jared’s smile was what drew Anne to him the first time they met. It was a purely male smile, no doubt about it. But it was more. His smile always held such tenderness and warmth. In that smile, Anne had seen the promise of so much—a man who would cherish her … a man who would stand between her and whatever might come against them … a man committed utterly to God and to loving her as truly as anyone could. A man who would thrive on being a husband and father.
    Jared had fulfilled every promise she’d seen, and then some.
    So every time he turned that smile to their daughter, as he did whenever she asked him to read to her, Anne knew what Faith saw there: unquestioning, unrelenting love.
    Little wonder Faith adored her daddy’s smile as much as Anne did.
    Anne was sure this Saturday morning had been no different, except for one small fact: Faith had corralled her father
before
getting her hair brushed. Apparently, she’d figured to skip the suffering and jump right to the