“Yes. This is The Haven.” Adele Parker pulled up in front of the big stone house set in the foothills of the Canadian Rockies and heaved a sigh of pure happiness. “We’re home.”

“Can we get out now?” In the back seat Francie nudged her brother, Franklyn, awake. “I’m tired of riding in this car.”

“Me, too,” agreed her four-year-old twin, with a yawn. “Tired.”

“It was a long drive from Edmonton.” Adele twisted to smile at the pair, treasuring the way their little faces came alive with interest at their first view of this place she loved. “Let’s get out but zip your jackets first. The mountain winds will be chilly.” Not wanting to arrive home disheveled, she checked her makeup, patted her curls, then thrust her arms into her own coat before exiting the car.

“Hey, where’s the snow?” Francie looked around, obviously disappointed.

“An’ where’s the ski hill you tole us ’bout?” Franklyn frowned. “This is a desert, like in that story you read us.”

“Franklyn, that’s not true,” Adele scolded. “Deserts don’t have all those green spruce trees, do they? Anyway, it’s barely October. It’s not time for winter yet. But don’t worry, snow will come.” She smothered a chuckle at their glum looks, then hunkered down beside Franklyn and pointed north. “The ski slopes at Jasper are about an hour away. In those mountains. Maybe we’ll go there one day, hmm?”

“Okay.” Usually biddable, Franklyn assessed The Haven. “It’s a very big house. And it is, too, made of stone. Francie said it wasn’t,” he confided to Adele.

“I won’t ever lie to you, Franklyn.” A thrill whispered through Adele at the trust in his dark eyes. Trust in her.

“It’s kinda like the castle in Beauty and the Beast.” Francie leaned back so far Adele worried she’d topple backwards. “Is it cold in there, Delly?” Their nickname for Adele brought back fond memories of her own youth at The Haven.

“No. It’s warm and friendly and the best place on earth.” It’s home. “C’mon. I’ll show you.” Grasping each child’s hand, she led them to the side of the house, in through the back door and into her favorite room, the kitchen.

“Adele!” Her aunties—Margaret and Tillie Spenser—sat at the massive kitchen table having tea, just as Adele had expected. Tillie was pouring while Aunt Margaret snuck a wafer from the stack on a plate.

“We didn’t hear you arrive.” Margaret jumped up and hugged her so tightly Adele could barely breathe—and she loved it. “We’re so glad you’ve come home, dear.”

“Thank you. I’m so glad to be here.” She should have come back right after her breakup with Rafe, Adele mused as Tillie’s embrace followed, just as tight, just as welcome.

The elderly women bent to study the twins. “Who have we here?” Tillie asked.

“I’m Francie. An’ this is my brother, Franklyn, an’ that’s Delly—”

“They already know me, sweetie.” Adele helped the children shed their coats. “These are my foster aunties.” She introduced them.

“How come you have—” Francie paused in her usual litany of questions when someone rapped on the door.

“This is a busy place.” Tillie hurried to welcome their guest. “Mac, dear! I didn’t know you were home.”

Adele whirled around, thrilled to see the man who’d been her best friend since the day she’d arrived at The Haven with her three foster sisters more than twelve years ago.

“Mac McDowell!” She hurried forward and wrapped him in a hug. Her heart dropped when her very best friend eased away a little too quickly. That was when she noticed how his coat sleeve hung empty from the elbow down. She gulped and refocused. “It’s good to see you, Mac.”

“Good

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