a dirty puddle and a handful of leaves.
Maybe this wouldn’t seem such an insurmountable challenge if she wasn’t completely running on empty. She felt as wrung out as the washcloth Zoe was using and she wanted nothing more than to climb into that comfortable guest bed down the hall and collapse for a week.
But she could do this. She was strong, far stronger than Mr. Thomas Know-it-all Canfield believed her to be.
“Ow!” Zoe exclaimed again loudly and Sophie had to force herself to relax again.
“Almost done. Time to rinse.”
“I don’t like shampoo in my eyes,” the little girl informed her matter-of-factly.
“I’ll keep that in mind, honey.”
She hoped Tom was having just as challenging a time with Zach in another of the estate’s zillion bathrooms down the hall. After helping the nurse—Maura, she said her name was—settle his father for the evening, Tom had joined her to help with the children.
She found so much domesticity—the two of them working together at something so mundane and homey as putting the children to bed—unsettling. With any other man she probably wouldn’t have thought twice about it, but this was Thomas. Thomas, who had kissed her and held her and treated her with such aching tenderness. Playing house with him like this was bound to unnerve her.
She jerked her attention away from that precarious road and back to Zoe. “There you go. That should do it.”
“May I play for a while?”
It was past her bedtime but Sophie didn’t have the heart to say no, not when Zoe had spent the day solemn and confused. For the first time all day she seemed like a little girl again instead of a silent, sad little waif.
“For a few moments.” She rose on bones that creaked and complained with exhaustion, then made her way to the padded vanity bench across the bathroom. It didn’t take long for the steam in the bathroom in combination with the comfortable seat to relax her stiff muscles. After a few moments she even felt her eyelids droop.
She jerked them open. She couldn’t sleep! If Thomas came in and caught her dozing while Zoe splashed around amid so many possible water hazards, he would have all the proof he needed to show she was unfit to care for the children.
Not that he seemed to need any proof. He had made up his mind and changing it was going to be as tough as riding the Infierno Canyon rapids in Chile. She had to do her best to show him she could handle this, though. She couldn’t abandon the children when they needed her.
Not the way she had abandoned Shelly.
The thought slithered into her mind and Sophie opened her eyes, all temptation to sleep forgotten as she bleakly watched the tendrils of steam curl through the room.
There it was. The truth she’d been hiding from all day. Not only was she compelled to stay and care for the children because she loved them and they needed her but because on some level she supposed she was trying to atone for the pain she had caused Shelly these last ten years.
She hadn’t been there for her sister, but at least she would try for her sister’s children.
Shelly never understood why Sophie had begun to freeze her out. She had never said anything, but Sophie had seen the hurt in her eyes during the few visits she’d made over the years, had heard the unasked questions in her voice every time they talked on the phone.
She should have tried to explain, damn it. About Peter and William and Thomas and that terrible night. In her frenzied rush to escape, though, she had decided it was best to stay quiet, to allow Shelly her illusions. Her sister had been happy with her new life here at Seal Point—deliriously happy, with her husband and her brand-new baby and this elegant home by the sea. How could she destroy that joyful light in Shelly’s eyes by telling her about the den of vipers she had married into?
Now it was too late to explain anything to her sister. Grief and regret washed over her in cruel, unrelenting waves.
“Can we go to Point Lobos tomorrow and watch the otters?”
Sophie wiped at her eyes and found that her industrious niece had climbed out of the tub on her own and was wrapped in a towel, drying her hair. Chagrined at her own inattention, she hurried to help.
“That sounds fun.” She cleared the remaining emotions from her voice. “We can talk about it with Ali and Zach and see what they want to do tomorrow.”
“Talk about what?” Ali, her own hair wet from her shower, joined them in the bathroom wearing a pink cotton nightgown and matching robe.
“I want to go see the otters tomorrow.”
“We just did that with Uncle Tommy two days ago.”
“I want to go again.” A stubborn light flickered in the little girl’s eyes.
“I told her we would talk about it in the morning,” Sophie said to head off the argument she sensed could easily brew.
Ali shrugged and went to work helping Zoe into her pajamas. The gesture made Sophie want to cry all over again. In just a few days without their parents, Ali had taken over mothering the twins. She was still a little girl, whose childhood had been snatched away from her abruptly and hideously.
While Sophie took over the task, she vowed a solemn oath to herself that she would do everything she could to restore that childhood.
“When will I go back to school, Aunt Sophie?”
Oh dear. She had so much to learn about being a parent. She hadn’t given a single thought to them missing school. “Do you want to go back tomorrow?”
Ali’s dimple flashed. “Tomorrow’s Saturday.”
She supposed she’d lost track after six connecting flights and a dozen time zones. “How about Monday, then?”
“Okay.”
“Me, too,” Zoe insisted. “Zach and me go to kindergarten. Miss Lewis is my teacher. She’s pretty.”
The three talked quietly about school and the girls’ classes while Sophie brushed the tangles from Zoe’s curly blond hair.
“You’re all set now,” she finally said. “Cleaner than a baby kitten.”
“Will you read to us like Mommy does?” Zoe asked.
Sophie swallowed another damn lump in her throat. “Sure, honey.”
“Mommy usually reads to us in her bed since it’s bigger.”
“Okay. Why don’t you two find a book and I’ll round up Zach and we can meet you there?”
She found Thomas and Zach in a bathroom down the hall. Tom’s golf shirt was soaked and water covered the terra-cotta tile floor, she saw with amusement, but her nephew sported slicked-back hair and snazzy dinosaur pajamas.
“Whoa. Was there a tidal wave in here?”
Zach giggled. “I was showing Uncle Tommy how to dog paddle and some water splashed on the floor.”
“And on your uncle, by the looks of it.”
Tom made a wry face, which sent Zach giggling again. She had to admit, the sound was terribly sweet. “Aunt Sophie, did you know Uncle Tommy used to take a bath in this very tub when he was five? And he used to sleep in my room, too.”
The idea of Thomas as a five-year-old boy was just too difficult to fathom, especially with that soaked cotton showing every ripple of powerful, very grown-up muscles in his chest.
She sneaked a look at him under her lashes and couldn’t help a quick intake of breath when she met his gaze, his blue eyes glittering with some expression she couldn’t immediately identify.
“No, I didn’t know that. Aren’t you lucky that he lets you use it now?” Her voice came out breathless as she