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solemnly down at her for such a long time that Beth began to wonder if she had frightened her. Then, with a gleeful chortle, Emily touched her face.
    Well, more like a pat and rub of the face, Beth quickly amended, because of the uncontrolled motions of Emily’s hands and arms. Nonetheless, the gesture was a sign of the toddler’s acceptance. At the action, something within Beth relaxed, if only a little, its tight grip on her heart.
    She smiled and grasped Emily’s chubby little hand. Turning her face into it, she kissed the child’s palm. It smelled of chocolate. In fact, now that Beth looked more closely, it was also smeared with chocolate.
    “I’m only making a guess here,” she said, glancing up at Millie before turning back to Emily, who was now tugging on her jacket sleeve, “but do I perhaps have some brown streaks on my face?”
    To her surprise, instead of Millie offering a reply, a deep, masculine voice answered instead.
    “Yes, as a matter of fact, your face is now quite charmingly decorated. Consider it Emily’s mark of approval. She doesn’t usually warm to strangers quite as quickly as she seems to have warmed to you.”
    Beth gasped, lost her balance in attempting to rise to her feet, and unceremoniously fell backward onto her bottom. Her cheeks flushed.
    “You could’ve warned me Noah was here.” She sent Millie a chagrined look.
    “And if I’d known he’d come in, I assuredly would’ve, honey.” The older woman hurried forward and offered Beth her hand. “Some men seem to possess a special talent for sneaking about, they do!”
    Noah laughed. “If I’ve offended, I beg pardon. But I wasn’t sneaking about. You two ladies were just so preoccupied with Emily, neither of you heard me come in.”
    By now Beth had regained her feet. She tugged down her jacket, smoothed her skirt, and brushed off whatever dust clung to her heretofore impeccably tailored suit.
    “Well, maybe we were pretty engrossed with Emily. Still”—to hide her discomfiture, she forced a smile—“a little extra warning, a heavier tread or a clearing of the throat, would’ve been most appreciated.”
    Beth looked up then, her gaze careening straight into Noah’s. He stared back, a stunned look on his face. Then, as if it had a mind of its own, his glance moved from her face down her body and back up again.
    Her eyes widened; her throat went dry. But if Noah perhaps seemed a little too blatant in his amazed perusal of her, she was equally surprised at the sight of him. He looked far older than she imagined he would, even considering it had been five years since she had last laid eyes on him.
    Thanks to the regular sparring and boxing workouts he had first done at the YMCA while attending seminary, Noah had always been a fit, strongly built man. Now, however, he was so leanly muscled as to be almost on the thin side. Though a man in his prime, his temples were beginning to show silver among the dark gold strands. His face looked careworn, his eyes—his beautiful, green- and gold-flecked brown eyes—appeared drained of energy.
    Compassion swelled in her. Compassion and a fierce resolve to help him rediscover joy in whatever way she could. Then Beth caught herself. Even with Noah—especially with Noah—she must keep a safe emotional distance. Help him the best she could, yes, and all the while hold high the shield before her heart.
    “Does the chocolate look that bad?” Beth asked, realizing Noah was still staring at her.
    Noah blinked, swallowed hard. “What? What did you say?”
    “I said,” Beth held out her hand to him as she repeated her question, “does the chocolate Emily has smeared on my face look all that bad?”
    Noah’s glance skittered from her to Millie, then back again. “No, not really. As I said before, it’s quite charming.” As if finally gathering his wits about him, Noah smiled, took her proffered hand, and clasped it between both of his. “I’m sorry if I seemed a bit distracted