“Some bedrooms up here are smaller,” he said. “But much of the construction follows the roof line, so they have more character. The one Christie chose is down at the end.”

They walked slowly. Erin stopped and stuck her head into each room as they passed it. “There aren’t any bathrooms,” she said, then glanced at him over her shoulder. “I’m sorry but I don’t do the chamber pot thing.”

“No problem. The bathrooms are between bedrooms. See that door on the right?”

She leaned in the room further, then nodded. “So every two rooms share.”

“That’s right. With you and Christie on opposite sides of the hall, you’ll each have your own.”

Kiki came out of the room at the very end. She paused when she saw Erin. “I’ve changed the linens and there are plenty of fresh towels in the bathroom.” She reached into the pocket of her jogging suit pants and pulled out a small plastic box. “I gave Christie a night-light in her bedroom and bath; yours is just in the bath. If you want an extra let me know. I’m going to put one here by your door then another at the end of the hall. It gets dark here at night.” She paused to draw a breath.

“Thank you,” Erin said. “You’re being very generous. We’ll be fine.”

“Well if you need anything, just let me know.”

Kiki was still offering to be of assistance as Parker moved past her. He walked to the room Christie had chosen and paused in the doorway.

The room was oddly shaped, an L with a bulbous end. Windows allowed light in on two walls. There were built-in seats with puffy cushions and small bookcases. A bed had been pushed up against the wall nearest the door. To the left was the closet and the entrance to the tiled bathroom. Around to the right was the reason Christie had chosen the room in the first place.

Parker supposed this had once been the schoolroom and the adjoining area had been for play. He set both suitcases down and walked toward the octagonally shaped alcove.

Small paned windows ran from floor to ceiling. In between them, built-in shelves and cubbyholes filled the walls. There was an old-fashioned rocking horse and a playhouse big enough for Christie to live in.

When he and Robin had bought this house, they’d talked about the babies they wanted and how much fun those children would have in this room. After she was gone, Parker had almost gutted the floor and started over. But he’d never had the time. Now he was glad. He wanted Christie to enjoy staying with him. He was only going to have her for a small part of her life so he had to make every minute count.

She was staring out the windows at the ocean.

“At night the stars come out,” he said. “They are bright and clear but there are too many to count.”

She spun toward him, a small ragged teddy bear clutched in her arms. Big eyes got bigger. “Daddy, this is the bestest room in the whole world. I’ll love it forever.”

She rushed toward him. Parker barely had time to brace himself before she plowed into his legs and held on firmly. An uncomfortable and unfamiliar tightness wrapped around his chest.

“I’m glad you’re here, too,” he said, his voice a little thick. “I want you to be happy here.”

“I will be.” She looked up and smiled. “And I’ll be very good.”

He touched the tip of her nose. “I’m sure you will be.”

“Parker, this is amazing,” Erin said.

Christie released him and raced to her mother. She grabbed her hand and tugged her around the bed toward the play area. “Mommy, look at this. You can see the ocean and at night Daddy says there’s stars. There’s a rocking horse and a playhouse and a place for all my toys.” Her whole body vibrated with joy.

Erin looked around, then raised her gaze to him. “I’m stunned. I knew the house was fabulous, but I wasn’t expecting anything like this.”

“These were all here when we bought the place,” he said, motioning to the wooden playhouse. “Most of the upstairs furniture is original.”

“But it’s in such good shape.” She moved closer to the rocking horse and touched its flowing mane.

Parker suspected the toy had been carved by hand. The craftsmanship alone made it functional art. The paint used to highlight the eyes and saddle had muted with time, but it wasn’t flaking.

“The house had been unoccupied but well cared for when we bought it. It must have been standing empty for nearly twenty years. Everything had been covered up or stored. Every sheet we pulled off exposed a new treasure. It was like Christmas.”

She tilted her head the same way Christie had the previous day. Her reddish brown hair brushed against her shoulder. “We?” she asked, obviously confused.

“I-” The sharp pain was familiar. He welcomed the connection to the past. “My late wife and I.”

“Oh. Of course. I should have realized.” She started back toward the door. “It’s very lovely here. You’ve been quite generous with your home. Christie and I appreciate it.”

He knew he’d upset her, but he wasn’t sure why. “Erin, please don’t think you have to watch what you say. It’s been over five years since Robin died. You’re not going to accidentally touch a nerve.”

“I’m glad,” she said and paused by her daughter.

Christie had opened the smaller of the two suitcases and was pulling out her clothing. Small T-shirts and sweaters, jeans, socks and a couple of dresses were piled on the bed.

“This is Millie,” Christie said removing a soft doll with an oversize head and brown yarn pigtails. She sat the doll on the bed, propping her up on the pile of clothing. “She’s my favoritest, next to my teddy. I’ve got books, too.” She slapped them down next to the doll.

Parker perched on the edge of the mattress. “There’s a library here.”

“I know.” Christie gave him a wide smile. “It’s in the same room with the picture of the pretty lady.”

“No, there’s another one. On the next floor down. When we bought the house, we got the library, too. These are old books. I never went through them but I wouldn’t be surprised if there are some for children.”

“Really?” Christie stood up. “Let’s go look.”

He laughed. “The books aren’t going anywhere. Why don’t you finish unpacking?”

“You think I should?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Okay.” She dropped to her knees and continued flinging things out of her suitcase. A nightgown sailed across the bed and settled next to him. He stared at the small bit of cotton. It was pink with a picture of a kitten on the front. He touched the ruffle on the edge of the sleeve.

Her clothing was so small, but then so was she. Four years old. He tried to imagine how tiny she must have been when she was born, but the thought terrified him. He shuddered. She was fragile enough now.

She tossed up more toys. Other dolls were introduced. The rules of a board game explained. He noticed Erin had left, but he couldn’t say when. He appreciated all she was doing for him. Not many women would have given him the chance to get to know his child. Watching Christie laugh and talk he decided it didn’t matter what this cost him financially. It would be worth it.

“Where’s the dresser?” Christie asked when the suitcase was empty.

“Over there,” he said, pointing behind the door.

“Okay, I’ll put these away and you can hang my dresses.” She thrust three at him.

He took them and walked to the closet. There were several empty hangers. He took one and slid it into the first dress. His hands were large, his fingers awkward, yet he relished the simple task. Christie continued to chatter away, talking to him and to her dolls, including everyone in the conversation.

When he was done, he moved back to the bed and touched the top of her head. “I’m going to check on your mom.”

“Okay. I’m going to read.” She waved one of her books at him, then climbed on the bed. Most of her clothing was still scattered in a pile. Toys were everywhere. In less than ten minutes, the room had gone from perfect order to chaos. He couldn’t have been happier.

He crossed the hall and knocked on the open door. This room was larger and faced the ocean. Christie’s only view of the sea was from the play area. A large four-poster bed stood in the center of the room. The mattress was new, but everything else was original furniture. The sensual lines and rounded corners were in keeping with the time period.

A large vanity stood against the far wall. The fabric of the rich burgundy brocade-covered stool matched the bedspread and curtains. The walls were white, the starkness broken by small cameo portraits hanging from ribbons, and a window seat under a picture window.

Erin came in from the bathroom and saw him. “It’s lovely,” she said. “I adore the view.”

“If you’re lucky, we’ll have a storm while you’re here. They can be pretty impressive this close to the ocean.”

She glanced out the window. “I would like to see that.”

“Do you have all that you need?” he asked.

“Yes. You and Kiki have thought of everything.”

He leaned against the doorjamb and folded his arms over his chest. “I had nothing to do with it. I think Kiki was a general in her previous life. She’s always prepared and always has a plan. Sometimes it makes me nervous.”

She smiled at him. Sunlight poured through the windows illuminating her. The rays turned her hair to the color of flame and outlined her feminine shape. She wore a hip-length red sweater over stone-washed jeans. He caught a hint of curves at her hips and her breasts. A flicker of awareness sparked to life inside of him. By force of habit, he quickly snuffed it out. He hadn’t allowed himself to be interested in a woman since Robin had died.

“Is Christie unpacked?” she asked.

“Everything is out of her suitcase, which isn’t exactly the same thing.”

“I can imagine. She is only four, so she doesn’t have too much of an attention span. I’ll go over in a minute and put the rest of her clothes away.”