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“You know what I mean. Here’s my actual point. No one has ever loved him unconditionally. Not in a way that made him feel cared for and safe. Obviously Harrison loves him, but in that relationship, Toby’s the protector. He’s never been able to hand over his heart and know that it will be cared for and cherished. Every human longs for that, and when it doesn’t happen, people shut down. Harrison’s trauma is an excuse. Toby blames himself for what Lori did, and while that is a subject for discussion, it’s also a convenient reason. He’s hiding because he’s afraid to trust.”

Reggie wasn’t sure how she felt about her sister’s analysis, but she was impressed by the depth of the argument. “Wow. You’ve given this a lot of thought.”

Dena shifted uncomfortably. “Yes, well, that’s true.” Guilt laced her tone. “Okay, you can’t tell anyone I said this. Promise.”

“Sure. I won’t say anything.”

Her sister looked at her. “When Harrison and Toby moved back to Wishing Tree last year, Harrison was put in my class. I had a long meeting with Toby. He told me about Harrison and Lori, and I’ll admit, part of me wondered if it was true. I knew about his past with his father. Frequently when a kid is abused, he grows up to be an abuser.”

Reggie stared at her sister. “You weren’t sure there even had been a Lori. You were concerned he was the one who had locked Harrison in the closet.”

“It was a reasonable concern,” Dena said defensively. “So I spent a little extra time with Harrison, and I scheduled extra sessions with Toby.” She sighed. “I quickly discovered that he was a warm, loving father who would do anything for his kid. Harrison got more outgoing and happier by the day. Now he’s a well-adjusted kid with lots of friends and a great sense of self.”

“He is,” Reggie said. “And you’re an amazing teacher.”

Dena grinned. “On my good days. During one of the sessions, Toby admitted he felt guilty about Lori. Not only for the abuse but because it had been so unnecessary. He wasn’t in love with Lori—he was going to marry her to give Harrison a mother. Not the actions of a man who believes it’s safe to give his heart. That’s why he told you he wasn’t going to get serious with you.”

“You are wise beyond your years, Obi-Wan.”

“I wish that were true. The question for you is, how do you feel? Are you willing to get involved, knowing he might never trust you enough to fall in love, or do you walk away?”

“Are those my only two choices?”

Dena smiled. “You’re kind of the only one who can answer that.”

“I know. I like him, but I’m not in love with him.” How could she be? They weren’t hanging out all that much. Sure, she saw him several days a week at the knitting afternoons and they’d had dinner, but it wasn’t like they were dating.

“Don’t you think the fact that he warned you off is significant? If he wasn’t interested, he wouldn’t have bothered.” Dena leaned toward her. “I think he was talking to himself as much as to you.”

“I need to think about this. You’ve sent me in an unexpected direction.” She held up the album. “We have to get through this.”

“We do.”

They chose a dozen more pictures, including several with their mom seriously pregnant.

“Adorable,” Reggie said, positioning the photograph in the scanner.

Dena flipped to the next page and stared. “Was this my crib?”

Reggie glanced over her shoulder. “It has to be. That’s you as a baby.” She smiled at the stenciled castle painted on the head-and footboard and the draped fabric hanging overhead. “It’s like a princess crib. Mom went with a teddy bear theme with me. Probably because I’m the second kid, and doing the princess thing again was too much work.” She chuckled. “Imagine if we’d had a third sibling. That one would have probably slept in a tent.”

She glanced at Dena, waiting for a quick retort, but her sister was staring at the picture as if she’d never seen it before.

“What?” Reggie demanded.

“I’d forgotten about the princess bed,” she whispered. “But if I have a little girl . . .”

Reggie stared at her. “Are you crying? What’s wrong? Do you know you’re having a girl? Isn’t it too early to know? Did you have to do blood work? Are you all right?”

Dena waved her hands in front of her face in a futile attempt to hold back the tears.

“I’m fine,” she said, her voice thick. “Totally fine. It’s not a health thing. It’s just I didn’t remember what my baby room looked like. I’ve seen the pictures, of course, but when we were in the store, looking at baby furniture, I didn’t recall the similarities.”

Reggie angled toward her. “Hey, what are you talking about? When did you go to look at baby furniture? There’s no store here.”

Dena shrank back, obviously fighting guilt. “Yes, well, um, I was in Seattle a couple of nights ago.”

“What? How? There’s no way you could have taught school and driven over in time to get to a store, and then get home in time to teach. That’s crazy. Do not tell me you drove the pass at night, by yourself.”