“If you’re sure. But my services are available to you whenever you would like. Just say the word.” He leaned close to whisper in her ear. “It’s the dresses. Too many women wear jeans. I’m a sucker for a woman in a soft kind of floaty dress, like you wear all the time. I can’t resist.”

His words made her start to melt inside. At the same time she felt a swift stab of pain. She’d never been a dress person before. Jeans and sweats had allowed her to move the way she liked. Or shorts. Before the accident she’d been more concerned with being active than being feminine.

“I’m glad you approve,” she said shyly. “Probably reminds you of your mother.”

As soon as the words fell out of her mouth, she wanted to call them back. Catherine Scott was the sort of woman who wore dresses rather than slacks. It had been just one of dozens of differences between the women.

Del frowned. “How’d you know?”

“Good guess. A lot of moms are like that.”

She shrugged hoping he would accept her answer. She didn’t want to get into a conversation about his mother. Catherine had been a devoted homemaker and a brilliant cook. A couple more places where Josie hadn’t been able to measure up.

Del touched her arm. Just a light brush of his fingers, but against her bare skin it was highly erotic. She felt herself swaying toward him.

“I’ll admit that my mom wears dresses, but despite that, you don’t make me think of her at all. Just so we’re clear on that.”

“Okay.” She shifted awkwardly, not sure if she should say anything else.

Male appreciation flashed in his eyes. Male appreciation and something she wanted to think was sexual interest. She was both thrilled and cautious. He couldn’t be interested in her in that way, could he? Yes, they got along and conversation was easy between them, but being naked was something completely different. Besides, he was still supposed to be pining for, well, her.

“I’ve got to get back to work,” he said. “Kitchen cabinets are calling to me. You have my pager number if you need to get in touch with me, right?”

She nodded.

He left and some of the light seemed to go out of the room. Josie returned to the sofa and slumped onto a lumpy cushion. She was playing a dangerous game. If Del was really starting to like her as Rose, he wasn’t going to be happy to find out she’d been lying to him. Which meant she should probably tell him the truth as soon as possible. But she didn’t want to. But she had to.

She sighed. All right. She’d do it the next time she saw him. No matter what, she would explain who she was and why she’d returned. He would understand…eventually. She would explain everything until things were all right between them again. And then they would decide what they each wanted from the other. Which meant that between now and then she had to figure that out for herself.

By five-thirty that afternoon, everyone was gone. Josie stood alone in the nearly empty house and listened to the silence. The sharp smell of paint blended with the homey scent of cut wood. She felt a little lost and lonely, but it was still better than being in a hotel-or worse, a hospital.

After the crew had left, she’d brought in her suitcases. She had four small ones, because they were more manageable for her than one large one. She’d already carried the first one up the stairs and would tackle the rest over the course of the evening. The remaining three were positioned neatly by the foot of the stairs.

Using her cane to assist her movements, she walked into the parlor that she was going to make into a living room and library. The chair rail had been removed from the two walls that would support the built-in bookshelves. White patches to repair cracks and nail holes contrasted with the light-green paint favored by the previous owner. Notations on the wall showed where the frame for the shelves would go. Del had explained they were being custom built at the company’s main workshop and would be installed in pieces. Her kitchen cabinets would come in the same way.

From the foyer Josie made her way into the main family room. Several battered floor lamps stood around the perimeter of the room, each plugged into a socket. Del had volunteered their services after noticing she really didn’t have any furniture of her own save the newly delivered and set-up bedroom set. He’d been worried as he left and had voiced his concern about her being here all by herself.

Josie sank onto the sheet-covered sofa. She wasn’t sure how she felt about his concern. While she appreciated the attention, she’d always been completely self-sufficient. That had been one of the problems in their marriage. He’d wanted her to need him, and she hadn’t wanted to need anyone.

The last year had taught her differently. She’d been forced to depend on everyone from medical personnel to her family, just to survive. There had been weeks when she hadn’t been able to do a single thing for herself except breathe. In some ways the experience had broken her spirit, but in others it had made her stronger. Either way, she’d changed. She wasn’t the woman Del had known three years ago. She didn’t look the same, move the same or think the same.

Sometimes Josie felt as if she’d completely lost herself. At other times she knew she’d been given a precious gift.

As she looked around the bare room, the phone on the floor by the sofa caught her attention. She glanced at her watch, then picked up the instrument and set it on her lap.

Close to six on a Friday night. Most people would have already left for home. Most, but not all. She dialed a familiar number. The phone on the other end rang only once before being answered by a strong, no-nonsense voice.

“Fitzgerald.”

“Hi, A.J., it’s your better half.”

There was a moment of silence followed by a chuckle. “Josie, I keep telling you. I’m the better half. You’re the tagalong.”

She smiled as she leaned back against the sofa and closed her eyes. Just hearing her twin brother’s voice was enough to make her feel safe. The familiar teasing made her miss him.

“It’s Friday night,” she said. “Why aren’t you out on the town with a bimbo on each arm?”

“Because I don’t date bimbos.”

“You don’t date at all. You’re worse than me. At least I used to be married, which is more than you can say. Tell me you’re seeing someone.”

“I have a beautiful, brown-eyed blonde in my life,” he said easily.

“A.J., your dog doesn’t count.”

“She’ll be crushed to know her aunt Josie is dismissing her so cruelly. But enough about me. What’s going on in your life?”

“I’m not ready to change the subject.” She opened her eyes and stared at the empty fireplace in front of her. “I’m serious, A.J. You work too hard, you don’t have a social life. When do you take time for yourself?”

There was a moment of silence. Josie could picture her twin leaning back in his big leather chair and turning until he could see out across downtown Seattle. A.J. was a successful financial planner who handled sums of money she couldn’t even imagine. He’d risen quickly through the ranks of his company and now had a corner office and a client list that would make any competitor drool. With the tall, blond Fitzgerald good looks and an intelligent, gentlemanly manner, he was pestered by women on a regular basis. But he rarely accepted their invitations.

“I’m in my career mode,” A.J. said calmly. “When I’m where I want to be, I’ll worry about a personal life.”

“All the good ones will be taken.”

“That’s a possibility I’ll deal with at the time. Now tell me about you. Dallas said you’d left L.A. Where are you?”

She hesitated before answering. He wasn’t going to like what she had to say. “Beachside Bay.”

There was a long pause from his end of the phone. “Digging up ghosts?”

“Something like that. I’m dealing with my past. It wasn’t as behind me as I’d thought.”

“Are you taking care of yourself physically? Your last surgery wasn’t all that long ago.”

“Tell me about it.” Josie rubbed her left thigh. The ache there was her constant companion. “I’m doing okay.”

“What does ‘okay’ mean? Are you doing your exercises and getting to physical therapy? Are you getting plenty of rest?”

“I’ve been…adjusting. Right now I need to heal my spirit before I worry about my body.”

“That sounds like a line if you ask me,” he grumbled. “What do you think Katie would have to say about it?”

Katie, their oldest sister, was a physical therapist. She would have plenty to say, none of it nice. She would order Josie back into physical therapy and probably threaten to fly out and take care of it herself.

“Katie’s busy with our new niece. Serena is only eight weeks old.”

“I suspect she’d make time for you, kid.”

“I know, but it’s not necessary.”

She clutched the phone tightly and felt his worry, even from nearly a thousand miles away. Knowing that he cared made her feel warm inside. From the moment he’d found out about her accident, A.J. had been at her side. He’d stayed with her through the first few surgeries, then had visited her regularly over the past year. All her siblings had. Even David, who had a sick wife and four daughters.

“You have to take care of yourself, Josie,” A.J. said gruffly.

“I know. And I am. I’ll get back on track with the physical therapy. I promise.”

“Good. I talked to Mom. She says everything is fine in Lone Star Canyon. They’re expecting a good year on the ranch.”

Josie pressed her lips together in annoyance. “I’m glad to hear it.”

A.J. continued talking about the goings on at the Fitzgerald ranch, but she wasn’t listening. She was caught up in the fact that he called their stepmother “Mom.”

Josie sighed. Her father had married Suzanne seventeen years ago, and while the other children had accepted her easily, she and Josie had never gotten along. Josie wasn’t sure why. Maybe because she’d never forgiven Suzanne for being alive when her real mother had died so unexpectedly.