He never expected to be a father… Then suddenly he was raising twins! Jared Hornby has his hands full caring for his orphaned niece and nephew—and could sure use some help on the home front. Nurse Ashley Ross's motherly touch is just what they need. Having grown up in the foster care system, she understands the longing for a family. Although she told herself she would never get close to another man, helping Jared with the children forges a bond between them. Can he convince her to stand by him—not only for the summer but for a lifetime? With more than fifty books and millions of copies in print worldwide, Lois Richer continues to write of characters struggling to find God amid their troubled world. Whether from her small prairie town, while crossing oceans or in the midst of the desert, Lois strives to impart hope as well as encourage readers' hunger to know more about the God of whom she writes. The doorbell shattered his dream of Africa. Jared Hornby shook off the blanket of sleep, raced for the front door and yanked it open. He stifled a groan. She stood there—tall, capable and in control; Lady Justice come to dispense her judgment. Her pansy-blue eyes completed a quick survey of him before returning to his face. Jared found no emotion on her elegantly sculpted features. Only the cascade of flaming orange-red hair that rippled past her shoulders in a waterfall of waves suggested that this woman might have a heart. That would make her substantially different from the other children's services people who'd contacted him. He'd put them off as long as he could. Today was D-day. "Jared Hornby? I'm Ashley Ross." She thrust out a hand and shook his in a no-nonsense manner, apparently oblivious to the lightning jolt that shot from her slender hand up his arm. "I'm here because—" "I know why you're here, Ms. Ross." Jared drew his tingling fingers away. Despite the "electrical" connection, he didn't bother to disguise his frustration with her visit. "You do?" She blinked spiky golden lashes. "Of course." He considered telling her to come back, but really, what good would that do? "Come in." "Uh—thanks." She stepped into his sister Jessie's house, her long narrow feet clad in unbusinesslike red sandals. Jared's attention strayed to the glittering turquoise polish that colored her toenails. It—she—was nothing like any of the previous social workers. Ms. Ross shifted her stance, emphasizing her height and her incredibly long legs. She wore jeans, a T-shirt the color of her eyes and a fringed chambray vest. Even for Tucson that was casual dress for a social worker. Jared had expected something else. "Where should I start?" she asked. She set a metallic bag that looked like it could carry most of her worldly possessions on the dust-covered hall table. "I don't know." Jared figured she was new at this. Not one of the other court people who'd shown up to discuss his parenting ability had ever asked his opinion—about anything. "Where do you want to start?" "Wherever you prefer." "The kitchen?" he said. "Okay." Her gaze rested on his shoulder. Jared tracked her stare to a stain on his T-shirt and immediately visualized a scoreboard with one mark deducted for lack of neatness. "Breakfast is over?" Ms. Ross lifted an eyebrow. Her face was completely expressionless. So that tingle of awareness he'd felt hadn't affected her? "Er, no. The twins are still sleeping," he explained. "Well, I'll start in the kitchen." She moved forward. "Wait!" Jared stepped in front of her, suddenly remembering he'd forgotten to clean up last night. Not a good place to assess his parenting abilities. Spaghetti for dinner had seemed such an easy choice. Of course, he'd never before made it with the help of two six-year-olds. Actually he'd never made it at all. "Uh, maybe the living room?" he offered. "Fine." She turned and followed him there. Jared blinked at the wall with the hole in the plaster he hadn't fixed. Then his gaze swerved to the pile of laundry he'd gathered but hadn't had time to wash. First impression—zero. He stopped so abruptly Ms. Ross ran into him. "Sorry. I'm really sorry," he apologized. She looked at him as if he'd lost most of his brain cells. He probably had. Instant fatherhood did that to a guy. "It's just that— I wasn't expecting you this early— I mean, I'm a little behind—" He stopped because her wide blue eyes said she couldn't care less about his silly excuses. "Start wherever you want, Ms. Ross," he said, finally admitting defeat. "It's Ashley and it really doesn't matter to me where we start, it's just that Connie said— Whoa!" She gaped. Jared guessed that was a reaction to the plywood-covered opening where a door was supposed to go. Or maybe the mountain of dirty clothes littering the sofa shocked her. But Jared's attention snagged on something else. "You said Connie?" he repeated carefully. "Yeah, Connie Ladden. Well, she was Ladden way back when we were in foster care. Now she's Connie Abbot." Ms. Ross frowned