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little redhead, Darlene, offered to baby-sit sometime.”
    Questions once again swirled through Emma’s mind. She didn’t recognize these people, but they would know her. And what about her baby? Could she be a goodmother to a child she didn’t remember? “Has she ever sat for us?”
    Grant’s silence lingered a fraction too long for comfort, and Emma raised an eyebrow. “Grant, did I say something wrong?”
    â€œNo,” he finally said, his voice clipped. “We haven’t gotten out much since Carly was born.”
    â€œI guess that’s pretty normal,” Emma said, although at the moment she had no idea what constituted normal.
    Finally Grant slowed in front of a blue Victorian house with white-lattice trim. “That has to be our house. I can’t believe it. I used to dream about a house like this when I was little.”
    Grant smiled hopefully and veered the car into the driveway. A neatly weeded flower bed bordered the front of the house. She could easily imagine it with tulips and petunias in the spring. Three ferns hung from the front stoop, and clipped monkey grass formed a border along the sidewalk to the wraparound porch. Blue jays fluttered down and nibbled at birdseed from a tall stone bird feeder in the center of the yard.
    â€œIt’s beautiful. I can’t wait to see the inside.”
    â€œIt’s not all fixed up yet,” Grant said, sounding apologetic again.
    â€œI’m sure it’s fine, Grant.”
    â€œWe still have some of the furniture we had when we were first married.” Grant shrugged. “We planned to buy a new bedroom suite, but, well…”
    Bedroom furniture? Emma paused, gripping the door handle, her pulse accelerating.
    Grant rambled on as if he recognized the awkward moment and wanted to smooth it over. Instead, he made it worse. “I mean there’s plenty of room, but the furniture’s not new.”
    â€œIt’s okay, Grant.” Emma took pity on him. Sensing his anxiety, she relaxed, realizing there would be lots of uncomfortable moments ahead of them. She should have asked about the sleeping arrangements before she agreed to move home with him. Surely he didn’t expect her to sleep with him.
    â€œWe’ll redo it sometime,” Grant said. “Maybe I’ll start a couple of projects right away.”
    Emma pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “I don’t need everything perfect, Grant.” Just my memory back would do.
    And a separate bedroom for now.
    Grant’s silent gaze almost unnerved her.
    â€œWhat is it?” she whispered.
    â€œYou told me that the day we moved in, too.” A smile crinkled his face, and the cleft in his chin became more pronounced as his mouth widened. He had beautiful teeth, white and straight.
    She returned his smile, searching deep inside for courage. “Well, let me go take a look.” Her strained muscles protested, and she winced as she tried to open the car door. The smallest movement hurt her sore ribs, and getting out with her injured leg seemed impossible. The reminders of her accident made her touch her face in a self-conscious gesture. She felt like a battered old woman; she must look horrible.
    Grant’s smile disappeared, and an emotion akin to guilt darkened his eyes. “Wait, Emma. Take it easy and I’ll help you.”
    Emma swallowed. Grant jerked his gaze away from her and opened the door, then stood silently by the car for a moment, his posture rigid as if bracing himself for her return home. Was he glad to have her here? Or did he feel as awkward as she did?
    He rounded the car, opened her car door and in one fluid but gentle motion swept her up into his strong arms. “Are you okay?” he asked quietly.
    â€œYes,” Emma said softly. Her heart fluttered as she awkwardly wrapped her arm around Grant’s neck. His breath brushed her cheek. His hard chest pressed against her breast.