Christy-Lynn’s hands shook as she tugged the ribbon free, then lifted the lid of the box.

Iris’s eyes shot even wider as she caught a glimpse of what lay inside—a pair of silver necklaces that when fitted together formed a single shiny heart. But a crease suddenly appeared between her pale brows, her gaze shifting from the box to Christy-Lynn.

“It’s broken.”

“Oh no, baby—look.” Christy-Lynn lifted out both necklaces, placing them side by side in her palm. “They’re part of the same thing—two pieces of the same heart. There’s one for you and one for me. I’ll put yours on if you hold up your hair.”

Iris stared at the necklaces with a kind of wonder, then fumbled to rake her hair out of the way, holding very still as Christy-Lynn snaked the silver chain around her neck and fastened it.

“Good girl. Now I’ll do mine.”

On cue Wade stepped in, taking the remaining necklace from her hand. After several failed attempts, he finally managed to clasp it. Christy-Lynn grinned at Iris, then pointed to the mirror over the dresser.

“See—we match.”

Iris gazed at her reflection with enormous eyes, mesmerized as she stroked the necklace at the base of her throat. After a moment, she turned to Christy-Lynn. “Match.”

“Yes. You have one half, and I have the other. Because from now on, you’re going to be a part of my heart. And I hope that one day I’ll be a part of yours.”

Iris seemed to weigh what this might mean, her little brow puckered. Finally, she cocked her head to one side, regarding Christy-Lynn quizzically. “Are you my mama now? My real mama?”

Christy-Lynn blinked down at her, not sure how to answer, or if she’d even be able to find her voice. “Would you like that?”

Iris nodded, but her tiny face was clouded with questions. “Will you still be my angel if you’re my mama? Nonny says God sent you to take care of me.”

Christy-Lynn couldn’t help thinking of the dreams that had once plagued her almost nightly—dreams that hadn’t returned since she agreed to take Iris—and wondered if Rhetta had been mistaken.

“I think Nonny got it backwards, sweetie. I think I’m the one who needed taking care of, and now here you are, my own little angel—just like a dream.”

There was no warning, no time to brace for impact before Iris launched herself full force into Christy-Lynn, clinging so tightly that it was impossible to say who was hanging on to whom. But suddenly it didn’t matter. Suddenly it felt like the most natural thing in the world, as if this child had somehow always been a part of her life.

Peering over Iris’s blonde head, she found Wade again in the doorway, her heart full as their eyes locked. She’d been living with nevers for far too long, holding happiness at bay with both hands. But now there was Iris. And Wade.

It seemed never had come after all.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

No book is written in a vacuum. There’s always a long list of people to thank, ranging from the professionals whose job it is to get a book on the shelves or onto your Kindle, to the helpful contacts who aid us in research, to the loved ones who feed us, make sure there are clean clothes, and otherwise sustain us throughout the process. And so, I will begin my list, praying as always that I don’t forget anyone.

As with all my writing projects, there is one person without whom a finished book would never come into being. Her name is Nalini Akolekar of Spencerhill Literary Agency, and she is without a doubt the best agent in the biz. Thank you for all of it: for the books, for the journey, for the guidance, for the smarts, and for the support!

To my amazing editors, Jodi Warshaw and Charlotte Herscher, thank you for believing in this book and helping me get the best version of it out onto the page. And what can I say about the rest of the Lake Union Publishing team, except every good thing I’ve ever heard is true. Your ongoing commitment to authors makes it a true pleasure to be a Lake Union author. I couldn’t be more thrilled to be part of this amazing team of writers and professionals!

To my brothers and sisters of the pen scattered all over the country: Barbara Claypole White, Diane Chamberlain, Laura Spinella, Kim Boykin, Karen White, Terry-Lynn Thomas, Normandie Ward Fisher, Heather Webb, Anita Hughes, Bernie Brown, Matt King, Doug Simpson, Lisa Cameron Rosen, Mitch Richmond, Michelle Hicks, Sheryl Cornett, and so many more, who are never too busy to read, critique, encourage, hand hold, council, blurb, and otherwise prop up a writer in need—my deepest love and gratitude. You will never know what your friendship and support mean to me.

To the real Melissa (Missy) Beck, Queenie Peterson, Dar Setters, Carol Boyer, and Doug Simpson, whose names I lovingly borrowed for several of the characters in this book, many thanks for the special place each of you hold in my heart.

To Pat Crawford, mother extraordinaire and world’s greatest cheerleader, thank you for your faith in me, for your wonderful example, and for every word of encouragement you’ve sent my way along this journey. I can’t begin to tell you how often you’ve kept me going when I wasn’t sure I could get it all done. Love you. Love you. Love you gobs!

To Tom Kelly, my newly wedded husband and all-around knight in shining armor, it always has been and always will be . . . you and me against the world. Thank you for asking, for waiting, for saying I do, and for all the stuff before and after. I love you more than words can say. (And I know a lot of words!)