The snow picked up as Niyol drove toward the inn. Margery had been out in snowstorms before, but they still scared her. She gazed out the window and focused on the peaceful quiet of the mountainside. The sun would set in about an hour which would make the landscape even more beautiful. It was times like this she wished she had a brush.

Margery eyed the man sitting next to her, his eyes trained on the road. She wouldn’t mind painting Niyol. He was handsome, with strong features, making him a perfect model. She itched to capture his tawny skin and fiery eyes, but she didn’t think it appropriate to whip out the sketchbook she always carried with her. There was sadness in his eyes that was both haunting and beautiful, and she knew whatever pain he harbored was a private one. Capturing it on paper felt too intrusive.

His open admiration of her painting had touched her, and she had shared information about herself and her past she didn’t share with many people. Even Mitchell had never understood her urgent need to paint and sketch the world around her. Of course, Mitchell had never tried to understand. But Niyol did. He more than understood. He was a kindred spirit, an artist who found the same peaceful release from the sorrow and pain of life with a camera as she did when she picked up her paintbrush.

It had surprised her when he had shared his own artistic journey, but she was grateful he trusted her with that tidbit of truth. She had seen the sadness in his eyes when he talked about his photos, and when he had insinuated that they were dark, she hadn’t been able to keep herself from comforting him by telling him that there was light in the world. The shadow that haunted his gaze had lifted for a few moments as he thought on her words, a small smile tugging his lips. Margery would have given anything to know exactly what he had been thinking about at that moment, but she had an idea of what it could be.

“How did you find Jill?” she asked suddenly.

“She found me,” Niyol answered, the same small smile flitting across his lips.

Do not think about his lips, she scolded herself.

Realigning her thoughts, she mentally gloated that she had been right about the one thing—or person, rather—that could lift the sadness from his eyes. Of course it would be Jill, the daughter he’d only recently found. Margery thought of her own daughter, Ainsley, and how Niyol must have felt finding out about Jill. It must have felt like he had gotten a small piece of his wife back.

“How did she find you?” She knew a good portion of the story thanks to Rose, but she wanted to keep that glint of happiness in his eyes and that smile on his face for as long as she could.

“Well,” he began. “It was actually Luke who found me. From what he told me, Rose had sort of tricked Jill into coming here to work for her.”

“What?!” She had not heard that part of the story. For God’s sakes, Rose! Will your meddling never end? she thought, exasperated.

“Yep,” Niyol continued, chuckling a little. “Apparently, Rose knew all along that she and Jill shared a common ancestor. Rose’s grandmother found a journal written by Kate Callahan. It mentioned that Kate had a stepson named Niyol who had married a girl from a tribe in Arizona. When Niyol died, his wife went to live with her kin in Arizona. That was where my line was from, and Jill’s line, obviously. Rose’s grandmother read the journal and traced the line of Kate’s stepson to see if there was anyone living. She found Jill who was living with her adoptive parents.”

“How in the world did she find Jill, but not you?”

“I honestly have no idea,” Niyol answered. “From what I gathered, it was a stroke of luck. The new name my wife took when she married me was a dead giveaway since it was the name of Kate’s stepson’s wife. I think she must have figured I was dead, too, since the Martins had adopted Jill. She didn’t leave her reasons or what she was thinking. She only left a flash drive with the proof of Jill’s ancestry. Rose then hired Jill on but didn’t tell her who she was or how they were related.”

Margery rolled her eyes, not the least bit surprised at her best friend’s shenanigans.

“I think Rose wanted to get a feel for Jill and who she was. I imagine the information on the flash drive wasn’t all that reliable. Just a few theories and hunches. Rose needed to be sure that Jill really was her long-lost relative before telling her anything.”

“All you have to do is look at Jill to know she’s your daughter,” Margery mused. “But I don’t know how Rose could have been sure the two of them were related.”

“Jill looks very much like my grandmother, and she looked very much like Haseya. Rose has a family photo album that dates back quite a ways. Perhaps Rose saw a resemblance there, or perhaps it was just kindred spirits connecting. Either way, it was Luke who proved it once and for all. With the journal and the flash drive, he pulled some favors and tracked down my information.”

Margery raised an eyebrow. “Those must have been some big favors.”

“Had to be,” Niyol agreed. “It isn’t easy tracking members of the Nation. Anyway, he tracked down my information and gave it to Jill, and she decided she wanted to meet me. Luke called me to let me know they were coming. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I hadn’t even known Haseya was pregnant when she left me, and no one said anything about a child when I finally found out about her death. Perhaps because the Martins had already adopted Jill.”

“You didn’t even know she’d died? But… you were her husband. Didn’t they notify you?”

“The United States government didn’t recognize our marriage. We planned to get a legal marriage, but we never got around to it. I wanted to, but Haseya kept saying it didn’t matter, that no piece of paper would validate our marriage more than our love did. So, unfortunately, when she died, no one was obligated to tell me anything, and since she didn’t name me as the baby’s father…” His voice trailed off as his eyes flashed with pain. It was obvious that recollecting the events of his wife’s passing, especially now that he knew about his daughter, still affected him.

“No one told you,” Margery finished for him.

Niyol nodded.

“But Jill found you?”

“Yes,” Niyol said, clearing his throat. “They came a few days later. I was so nervous, I couldn’t sleep or eat. When she arrived, she was so beautiful. She looked so much like my grandmother it took my breath away, although I saw a lot of her mother in her, too. We talked for a while, and I explained to her what had happened. I had been so sure she would be angry, maybe even hate me, but not Jill. She accepted what I told her and just seemed happy to have met me.

“I’m still shocked it worked out so well. When Rose called me a few weeks ago to ask if I wanted to move here to take care of her horses, I couldn’t resist being near Jill and her new family. I felt like I could finally have a home.”

Margery smiled and then his words sunk in a little. “Wait. What horses? You’re moving here?”

“Rose didn’t tell you about her plan with the horses?”

“No,” Margery sighed. “We haven’t had much chance to talk lately. Just a few words here and there in passing. But I can’t believe she hasn’t told me about buying horses.”

“Maybe she intends to tell you tonight,” Niyol offered.

Margery pursed her lips. “Maybe. Or you could just tell me now. What hairbrained scheme is Rose up to now?”

Niyol laughed, a deep rumbling laugh that vibrated through Margery, warming her blood and making her heart beat a little faster.

“She wants to offer trail rides to her guests,” Niyol explained. “She bought three horses and renovated the old barn. My father and I worked on a ranch when I was younger, so I know my way around horses. I can’t tell you how Rose knew about that, but she called and asked if I would like the job. There was nothing keeping me in Arizona, so I said yes. I want to be near Jill and her children.”

Margery nodded. “That makes sense. I’m glad you found her, and I’m glad Rose offered you a home, although I’m not surprised. Rose has always wanted a big family around her. I haven’t seen her so happy since her mother died. She and Jill are like sisters. They’re inseparable.”

Niyol frowned.

“What? Is that bad?”

“No,” Niyol answered. “It’s just… I’m worried about Jill. She’s used to an active and kind of dangerous lifestyle. I worry she isn’t taking it easy enough during the pregnancy. Rose is great, but she’s never had kids, so she can’t understand the fears Jill might have about the whole thing or help reassure her. Does that make sense?”

“I think so,” Margery answered. “Doesn’t Jill’s adoptive mother talk to her? Can’t she help in that area?”

“I get the sense they don’t have the closest relationship,” Niyol sighed. “From the way Jill tells it, her adoptive parents didn’t spend a lot of time with her during her childhood. Nannies pretty much raised her.”

“Oh. That would make things difficult.”

Niyol nodded. “Jill likes to put a brave face on for the world, but I think she’s struggling with the whole thing.”

“All first-time moms feel nervous and scared. It’s normal,” Margery said, placing a comforting hand on his arm. “She’ll be okay. But… if you want, I can talk to her and let her know I’m here if she has questions. I’m not family, but Rose is my best friend, and we all care about Jill. She’s brightened Rose’s life, and Luke’s, and everyone’s in town. She’s one of us, and I’ll do whatever I can to help her.”

“I would appreciate that,” Niyol said, smiling at her.

Margery smiled back, trying to ignore the way her heart skipped a beat when he turned that dazzling smile on her.

You don’t want a man in your life, remember? she reminded herself, but she was pretty sure her heart was ignoring her.  

A few minutes later, Niyol pulled into the parking lot of the inn and led Margery in through the back door. Rose stood next to the stove where she stirred the contents of a large pot and gave them a bright smile as they entered. She dropped the wooden spoon on the counter and rushed over to hug Margery.

“I’ve missed you,” Rose said.

Margery laughed and hugged her back. “I hear you needed help with your recipes,” Margery said, handing Rose her small wooden recipe box.

Rose grinned and took the box from her. The two women dug through the recipe cards and talked about ingredients and measurements while Niyol settled down in a chair with a glass of cider, nodding to Danny in his usual seat, cutting and peeling apples for Rose.

Luke and Jill joined them soon after. Jill sat down next to Niyol while Luke helped Danny with the apples. Niyol studied his daughter.

Jill looked exhausted. He knew she had taken a group of guests into the park earlier today, and although she hadn’t gone on her usual hikes, she had done some light walking around the scenic stops.

Niyol’s mother had been a midwife on the reservation, so he had seen his fair share of pregnant women. He knew enough to know Jill shouldn’t seem this tired. She was definitely overdoing it.

“Are you okay?” he murmured to her.

“Just a little tired,” she answered, giving him a small smile.

“You probably shouldn’t take any more groups out, Jill,” he said, trying to keep the worry out of his voice.

“This was my last group for a while,” Jill reassured him. She didn’t look offended at his interference but happy that he’d showed his concern. “I promise I’ll take it easy.”

Margery came up to the table and handed Jill a glass of cider. Jill took the glass from her gratefully, her fingers brushing Margery’s as she grasped the cup.

“Good gracious!” Margery exclaimed. “Your hands are like icicles.”

“I’m a little cold,” Jill said, sipping the hot cider. “But I’ll be okay.”

Margery narrowed her eyes and then marched around the table and grasped Jill’s chin, gently pulling her face up to the light.

“You are paler than a ghost, child,” Margery scolded. “You go lie down on one of those comfy couches in the living room while I make you something to eat. Your father will build up the fire for you.”

“But I wanted to stay and visit with all of you,” Jill protested.

“Then we’ll all come to you in the living room,” Margery countered, placing her hands on her hips.

She glared at Danny and Luke who both jumped up and agreed. They escorted Jill into the living room, and Niyol followed after giving Margery a grateful look. Margery returned his smile, then bustled around the kitchen putting together a snack for Jill. Rose studied her friend for a moment and then looked toward the living room.

“I’m not taking very good care of her, am I?” Rose asked Margery, her face flashing with guilt.

“Nonsense,” Margery replied. “You’re running an inn and taking care of your guests. Besides, Rose, you haven’t been pregnant before, so you can’t understand how it gets. Jill just needs to listen to her body more. You’re doing a great job with her.”

Rose gave Margery a small smile. “I’ve never been the nurturer you are, Margie.”

“You have your own strengths, Rose,” Margery answered.

Rose laughed and nodded. “Well,” she said, amusement coloring her voice. “Go feed the girl before her father pulls all his hair out with worry. I can’t imagine you would be very happy to see all that gorgeous hair disappear. You’ll miss the chance to run your fingers through it.”

“What are you talking about, Rose?”

Rose shrugged, and Margery narrowed her eyes.

“I know you aren’t meddling in my life, Rose,” Margery said, a slight warning in her voice. “Because you promised you never would.”

“Actually, my dear Margie, I promised I wouldn’t meddle with you and Mitchell. I never said anything about not meddling with you and Niyol.”

“There is no me and Niyol,” Margery snapped, scooping up Jill’s plate and stalking out of the kitchen.

“Not yet,” Rose said, smiling and turning the stove down to a simmer before following Margery into the living room to join the others.