A debate raged in vivid detail across Isabella's face. She shot Jack a questioning glance. At his smile of encouragement, she nodded in agreement.
"Why don't you pick out your favorite dolls and put them on the bed," Annalise suggested, pitching her voice so it remained calm and nonthreatening. "They'll stay here with you. Then we'll pick out a special room for the others."
Isabella hopped off the mattress and made a beeline across the room. She seized a porcelain doll that had seen better days and placed it with great care on the bed. To Jack's amazement, she turned and faced Annalise, waiting for the next instructions.
"That's the only one?" he prompted. He couldn't explain why he was so horrified when she nodded. "If you want another-"
Annalise shook her head in silent warning. "What about the stuffed animals?" she asked. "Are there any who should stay with your doll?"
This time Isabella gathered up three: a threadbare puppy, a cashmere-soft kitten and a ferocious lion. Over the next half hour, Annalise worked her way through each type of toy until the favorites had been whittled down to a select couple dozen.
When she'd finished, Jack found he had to swallow hard before speaking. "They're all the toys she brought from home," he commented in a rough undertone. "She's spent three full months here with hundreds of brand-new toys and all she wants-"
To his horror, he couldn't finish his comment. Fresh grief welled up inside, ripping through him. What was money in comparison to Joanne and Paul? What were all these toys he'd drenched his niece in, compared to the lives of her mother and father? He'd trade every penny of his billions to have his sister and her husband alive and well. But that wasn't possible. And so Isabella clung to the tattered remains of that old life while he clung to Isabella.
Beside him, Annalise gathered his hand in hers and squeezed gently. She waited until he'd regained his self-control before continuing. "Anything you've forgotten about?" she asked Isabella.
There was a momentary hesitation and then she darted to the small bedside table and snatched up a picture frame, hugging it close. It was too much. Jack was at Isabella's side in an instant, lifting her into his arms. He took a seat on her bed and cradling her close. "Don't worry about your pictures," he murmured. "They all stay in here. Every last one of them."
Gently he pried the frame from her grasp so they could both study the photo. Joanne and Paul beamed out at them, a slightly younger version of Isabella tucked protectively between the two. He ran his index finger over his sister's image. Memories crashed over him like waves advancing before a storm front.
"Your mom and I looked alike, didn't we?" he managed to ask his niece. Not that he expected a response. To his surprise, she leaned her slight weight against him and nodded.
His sister's rich, brown hair was a couple shades lighter than his, the highlights more red than the gold that streaked his own hair. But they shared the same facial features-straight, bold noses, full mouths, squared jawlines. Even the direct intensity of Jo's black eyes was identical to what he saw reflected in his mirror each day. These were characteristics they'd inherited from their mother, something that connected the three of them.
"God, I miss her," he said. Isabella curled tighter into his embrace and he could feel her shoulders tremble, feel the dampness of tears soaking into his shirt. He wrapped her up close and planted a kiss in her matted curls. "We'll get through this, Baby Belle. I swear we will. You and I are going to be a family. It won't be the same as it was. But we'll figure it out. Somehow we'll manage."
He didn't know how long they clung to each other. Throughout it all, Annalise remained quiet and motionless, giving them the time they needed to weather the storm. When the last hiccupped sob had long faded, Jack drew Isabella to her feet. His hand swallowed hers as he led her to the bedside table. Carefully, he returned the photo to its place of honor.
He crouched beside her. "They'll always be watching out for you, Isabella. Just like I will. Okay?"
Isabella nodded solemnly. Then Annalise crossed to join them. "Why don't we go find that special room for the rest of your toys?" The gentle suggestion came at the perfect moment, helping to distract them from their sorrow. "Anytime you want one of the toys from that room, you can trade them. That means you pick one of the toys from in here and put it in the special room and take the toy you'd like to play with instead and bring it in here to live with you. Is that all right?"
Isabella sought Jack's reassurance before nodding. Over the next hour, they made a production of choosing the perfect "special room" and transferring toys. When they were done, his niece's room had been transformed from a toy store into a peaceful, uncluttered bedroom. Her favorite toys decorated the shelves lining her room, each assigned a place of honor. He noticed that all the books remained, as well as a small play station that contained puzzles, coloring books and other educational toys.
"Makes quite a difference, doesn't it?" Annalise murmured. "This gives her a safe haven that should help her relax."
"Instead of a place guaranteed to agitate."
He glanced at her, driven to mention what had happened in the playroom. Before he could, she spoke again. "Did the caseworker see Isabella's room with all the toys?"
He grimaced. "Yes."
To his surprise she rested a hand on his arm and gave a reassuring squeeze. "Don't worry. I'm sure it will help once she sees the changes you've made."
It was the second time they'd touched since their embrace in the playroom. Not that she seemed aware of that fact. He wound one of her curls around his finger and tugged. "The changes you're making, don't you mean?"
She stilled and her pulse fluttered at the base of her neck. Standing this close he could see the smooth, rich texture of her skin, the color a gorgeous creamy shade accentuated by her dark hair. The attraction he felt drew him, even as he fought to hold himself at a distance. He shouldn't be experiencing these emotions. They weren't part of the plan. And yet, they were undeniable. What the hell would happen once they eventually married?
If they married, he hastened to correct himself. He had a long path to walk from here to the altar. Considering Annalise's willful nature, it wouldn't be an easy one.
As though underscoring that point, she eased free of his touch and focused her attention where it belonged … on Isabella. "I couldn't have made any changes if you weren't here to reassure your niece and lend support." She shot him a warning look. "Nor will I be able to make any more if we're not in agreement on how our … relationship should progress from here."
He had to give the woman credit. Subtle, yet direct. Too bad she hadn't chosen to enter the business world. She'd have been a natural. "So, what's next on the agenda?" he asked with a calm he didn't come close to experiencing.
"Lunch, I hope." A swift smile flashed. "Dare I suggest something casual, either al fresco or in the kitchen?"
"We'll eat on the patio. Sara's not too keen on having her kitchen invaded," he explained.
The choice proved a rousing success. The serene location had a beneficial effect on Isabella. After they arranged for a place setting for her doll, she ate without protest or tears, and afterward played beneath a nearby tree, rocking her "baby" while humming tuneless reassurances.
"It won't last," Annalise offered. She dipped a hand in a glass bowl containing a selection of olives and popped one in her mouth. "I just want to warn you so you don't get your hopes up."
"And here I was assuming you had waved your magical wand and fixed all our problems."
She cocked an eyebrow. "Sorry. The fairy godmother association hasn't issued me my official wand yet. Until they do, we'll have to handle this the old-fashioned way."