Had her father lived in Nashville—or even in the same country—he might have gotten a bit more involved in the fight to clear his daughter’s name. But since he was currently working in the publishing industry in London, he’d been able to do little except offer long-distance advice and encouragement. Her mother, now married to a college professor in Oxford, Mississippi, tended to be more of a hand-wringer and worrier than a useful resource.
Natalie was pretty much on her own in this battle—but then, she was accustomed to taking care of herself. She’d done so since her parents had split up in a rather ugly divorce when she was eighteen.
Following the directions she’d been given, she parked in the driveway of Kyle and Molly’s lovely Gatlinburg home. They’d bought the house soon after their marriage just over four years ago. Before that, Molly had lived on a ranch in Texas and Kyle in one of the cabins they now rented out to vacationers.
A brightly colored, plastic, three-wheel riding toy partially blocked the stone walkway. Bypassing it, Natalie stepped onto the long porch that fronted the yellow frame house with pristine white trim and shutters. The inviting porch seemed well utilized. A swing at one end was padded with yellow and green patterned cushions; two rocking chairs with matching cushions sat nearby. Big planters held vibrant autumn chrysanthemums, and a couple more toys peeked from behind one of those pots.
She pressed the doorbell. What sounded like a small dog immediately went into a frenzy of barking inside, and she sighed. She wasn’t particularly fond of hyper, little purse puppies.
The door opened and Kyle greeted her with a slight smile. “Hi, Natalie. Did you have any trouble finding us?”
“Not a bit. Your directions were very good.”
“Come on in. Be quiet, Poppy,” he added with what sounded like weary resignation as he glanced down at the yapping brown-and-white Chihuahua at his feet.
“Sorry,” he said when Natalie walked in. “The stupid dog thinks he’s a Doberman. He doesn’t actually bite, he just wants you to think he will.”
“He? Didn’t you call it Poppy?”
He chuckled wryly. “Olivia named him. She loves the little fleabag.”
Poppy had already turned and ripped into another room, his job as guard dog apparently completed. Kyle gestured in the same direction, inviting Natalie to precede him. “Just follow the dog.”
Smiling, she moved toward an open doorway that led into what she assumed was a family room. The dog was now in the arms of a little girl with bright red curls and a freckled, pixie face. She looked strikingly like her mother, who rose from the couch as Natalie came in.
“Natalie,” Molly said, moving toward her. “We’re so glad you could come tonight.”
“I was delighted to be asked,” Natalie fibbed politely.
Something made her glance behind her. Casey sat quietly in a rocking chair holding an infant and meeting Natalie’s gaze with an openly amused expression that told her he knew she hadn’t expected to see him there. “Hi, Natalie.”
She managed to return the greeting casually enough. “Hello, Casey.”
“Kyle and I haven’t entertained since Micah was born, so we thought we’d turn this into a real dinner party,” Molly explained cheerily. “We invited Jewel and Mack, but Jewel had her Bible study group tonight, and Mack said he was a little tired.”
Natalie was on the verge of replying when something bumped her leg. She looked down to see Molly’s three-year-old daughter tapping with one hand against Natalie’s gray slacks in an obvious bid for attention. “Hi.”
As an only child whose friends were mostly singles, Natalie had been around very few small children. She moistened her lips and said, “Hello, Olivia.”
“This is Poppy,” the child added, holding up the wriggling dog that seemed to be doing its best to lick every inch of Olivia’s cheeks.
“Yes, Poppy and I met already.”
“C’mon, Livvie, let’s get you washed up for dinner,” Kyle said, scooping up both daughter and dog. Natalie noticed his slight limp, but it didn’t seem to impede his progress as he carried the giggling child and yipping dog out of the room.
Molly followed her family toward the door. “Make yourself comfortable, Natalie. I’ll be ready to serve dinner in about five minutes.”
“Let me help you,” Natalie offered quickly.
But Molly shook her head. “Everything’s almost ready. You stay and keep Casey company while he babysits for me.”
Great. Casey and a baby. Both of whom made her unaccountably nervous.
She perched on the edge of an armchair, mentally groping for something to say. “How’s your hand?”
He held his hand up, palm out, to show her a fresh bandage. “Much better. I’m keeping it covered just as a precaution, but I can tell it’s going to heal quickly.”
“That’s good.” That subject exhausted, she nodded toward the baby in the crook of Casey’s arm. “You look pretty comfortable. Do you have a lot of experience with kids?”
Casey glanced down at the sleeping infant and chuckled. “In our family, it’s hard to avoid them. I have fourteen first cousins on my dad’s side—Molly’s side—and several of them have kids. The Walker clan’s pretty tight, always getting together for some occasion or another. It’s not at all unusual for thirty or more of us to be gathered at the ranch that belongs to Molly’s dad, my uncle, Jared.”
Daunted by the mental image of all those relatives in one place, many of them children, she swallowed. “Wow.”
Casey laughed, making the baby start a little, though he didn’t wake up. “Yeah, a lot of people react that way.”
“How many siblings do you have?”
He shook his head. “I’m an only. But I never lacked for playmates with so many cousins. Especially the twins, Andrew and Aaron. There’s just a few months’ difference between our ages and our fathers are identical twins, so we spent a lot of time together, along with our cousin Jason D’Alessandro, who’s a couple years older than I am.”
“Your father’s a twin?”
“Right. And his brother has twin sons of his own. We’re all used to seeing double.”
“I see.” Sounded a bit confusing to her, but then, she didn’t have that much experience with family.
Her mother had a brother, but they hadn’t lived in the same state for decades and didn’t see each other very often, so Natalie hardly knew her cousins on that side. Her father had been one of four brothers. Jewel was the youngest sibling and the only girl. Because her father and Jewel had been the closest of the Lofton siblings, Natalie had seen her aunt Jewel more than the rest of the family. She’d always looked forward to summer vacations in Gatlinburg, back when her family had been intact and at least outwardly happy together.
Though he’d been a few years older than Natalie, Tommy had always been a gracious and patient host, taking his younger cousin hiking in the mountains, teaching her to fish in the numerous area streams and accompanying her to a nearby amusement park. He had even taken her white-water rafting when he was a mature eighteen and she a hero-worshipping fourteen-year-old.
She still missed Tommy with a pang like a knife through her heart whenever she remembered those happy childhood times, before her parents’ divorce and before Tommy had joined the military. That had been one of the hardest things about