Rags To Riches: A Desire To Serve. Janice Maynard

against her shoulder now and was patting up a burp.

      Grace let a spoonful of her smoothie slide down a throat that suddenly felt raw and tight. This baby looked nothing like Molly. Her eyes were nowhere near as bright a blue, and instead of Mol’s golden curls, she had feathery, flyaway black hair her mother had obviously tried to tame with a jaunty pink bow. Yet when she waved tiny, dimpled fists and gummed a smile, Grace laughed and returned it.

      Blake caught the sound and followed her line of sight. Hooking an elbow on his knee, he watched the baby’s antics until she let loose with a burp that carried clearly across the grass. After another, quieter encore, her mother slid her down into nursing position.

      When Grace gave a small sigh, Blake studied her profile. He wasn’t surprised by what he saw there, or by the plea in her eyes when she turned to him.

      “I’ve had an incredible time in Provence,” she said slowly. “Every day, every night with you has been a fantasy come true.”

      She threw another look at the baby, and he read her thoughts.

      “I miss Molly, too,” he admitted with a wry grin. “Let’s go home.”