Chapter One
“THERE IS NO WAY I’m moving into your newlywed love shack.”
Pru Reynolds froze, holding in a wince as the object of the current discussion made herself known. Of course Ari had been skulking outside the kitchen. How many times had Pru herself done the same as a child? There never seemed to be another option when the grown-ups were deciding your fate without consulting you. She’d hated it. Hated being at the mercy of a bunch of relative strangers—even well-intentioned ones. But that’s what it was to be part of the foster system. That was the fate that Pru and her sister, Kennedy, were trying to save Ari from.
Pru turned to face the girl, taking in the dark, stormy eyes and the mulish set to her mouth. “Nothing’s been decided, sugar. We aren’t going to make that decision for you.” It was important to get that out there. To make Ari understand that she had a choice here. Foster kids had so few actual choices, and fighting that sense of powerlessness was one of the biggest hurdles to overcome.
“Yeah,” Kennedy added. “We were just reviewing your options, discussing the pros and cons, so we could present them in a nice, organized fashion.”
Ari arched one eyebrow in a move that displayed all of her barely teenaged disdain. Not yet fourteen, she was going to be a pistol, as their mother used to say.
Pru rode out the instant lash of pain at the thought of Joan. It had been just under four months since they’d lost her to a car accident. Just under four months since she and her three sisters had taken charge of the girl Joan had been in the process of adopting. Joan had meant Ari to be one of them—the last and youngest Reynolds sister. But the legalities hadn’t been finished, so Pru and Kennedy, and Kennedy’s fiancé, Xander, had all undergone the necessary certification classes to serve as her foster parents. Not something Pru had expected to be doing at thirty—prospectively taking on a teenaged daughter. But she’d be damned if she’d let the girl go back into the system. Ari was family.
“Come on and sit down. We’ll talk about this,” Pru told her.
Ari crossed her arms, but she came over and plopped down at the big farmhouse table.
“Do you want tea?” Pru asked.
One shoulder lifted in a shrug. “Sure.”
Pru moved to the stove and reminded herself that the attitude was better than the complete, withdrawn silence after Joan’s death.
“So, here’s the deal, kiddo,” Kennedy began. “The great state of Tennessee has officially declared Pru, me, and Xander fit as foster parents. Well, we’ve passed all the classes, anyway.”
Pru pulled mugs from the cabinet and began to fill tea balls with the loose leaf black tea she favored. “The next step is the home study, so we have to let Mae know whether she’ll be doing that on me or on Kennedy and Xander. All of us are more than willing, so it’s your choice.”
Their situation was highly unusual. Officially, they shouldn’t have had Ari at all until all the certifications had been passed and the home study completed. But their mother had been a foster parent for more than twenty-five years and a social worker before that. Mae Bradley, Ari’s case worker, had known Joan all that time, and on Joan’s death, she’d pulled some strings with the powers that be, convincing them that it was in the best interest of the child to stay put with someone familiar. God bless small towns.
“You’re getting married this weekend and going off on your honeymoon to Timbuktu—” Ari said.
“The UK,” Kennedy corrected, smiling a little as Pru set a mug of tea in front of her.
“—and I’m not gonna be moving in when you get back and stepping all over your newlywed toes. I like you and Xander. Why would I do that to you? Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Kincaid. Welcome home! And oh, by the way, here’s your teenager! That’d put an end to the honeymoon right quick.”