Inexplicably, her thoughts flitted to the new police chief.
Callie nudged her chin toward the open door. “I think our numbers are about to double.”
Holding tightly to the hands of two toddler twin boys, an older woman hesitated on the threshold.
Maggie’s heart skipped a beat. But she pushed forward. “I’m Maggie Arledge.” She ushered them inside. “I don’t think we’ve met.”
Not identical, the twins did share the same big brown eyes. So, so adorable in their pint-size khakis and blue button-down shirts.
“I’m Wilda. We’re new in town and decided to visit GeorgeAnne’s church today.” The sixtysomething woman with kind blue eyes brought the two boys forward. “My grandsons are almost two. Are we in the right place?”
“GeorgeAnne is my aunt.” She reached to take the navy blue backpack from the woman with the salt-and-pepper hair. “And you are most definitely in the right place.”
Letting go of one boy’s pudgy little hand, Wilda eased the backpack off her shoulder. She handed it to her. “You must be Tom Arledge’s daughter.”
Clinging to his grandmother’s side, the darker-haired twin peered uncertainly at Maggie.
She deposited the backpack into an empty cubby. “You know my dad, too?”
“My son is Truelove’s new chief of police. He had to finish a case at the office so we’re meeting him here.”
As she clicked the half door shut, heat bloomed in her cheeks over her out-of-the-ordinary reaction to Wilda’s obviously married son. “Weekend duty is tough.”
The matronly woman shrugged. “We’re a law enforcement family. Weekend duty comes with the territory.”
Her father had been a good police chief. The citizens of Truelove knew he’d taken his duty to protect and serve seriously. Sometimes to his own family’s detriment. He would be missed.
She handed Wilda the check-in paperwork to complete. “Hello, guys.” Carefully tucking her skirt around her legs, she crouched to their height.
Letting go of the other child’s hand, Wilda filled in the blanks on the paper. “Everyone in Truelove has been so friendly. Boys, introduce yourselves to Miss Maggie, please.”
The twin with the short blond curls stuck his baby thumb into his chest. “Me Wostin.”
Wilda’s lips twitched. “This is Austin.”
She turned to the other child, who had straight brown hair. “And what’s your name, sweetheart?” Shy, he hid his face.
Austin flung out his arm. “He Wogan.”
She arched her brow at Wilda.
Their grandmother smiled. “Logan.”
She vaguely recalled hearing the new police chief was from Raleigh, the state capital. But why was his mother, and not his wife, dropping off their sons?
Aunt GeorgeAnne would probably have the scoop.
“Would you mind if I stayed with the boys this morning?” Wilda bit her lip. “With all the changes in their lives, they feel a bit uprooted. We’re protective of them, you see.”
Maggie didn’t understand, but she didn’t mind, either. “We’d love for you to stay.”
Callie drifted over to introduce herself. “You may be put to work. Needing a village takes on new meaning in the toddler classroom.”
The older woman laughed. “Land of lakes, I wouldn’t have it any other way.” She waved the clipboard. “Where do I put this?”
Callie deposited the paperwork in the tray on the counter for the church staff.
“GeorgeAnne has been so helpful.” Wilda steered the twins toward the toys. “She’s even introduced me to two members of the Double Name Club.”
Maggie and Callie exchanged amused glances.
GeorgeAnne Allen. ErmaJean Hicks. IdaLee Moore. Better known as the Truelove Matchmakers, the elderly trifecta were notorious for taking their civic duty and the town slogan—Truelove, Where True Love Awaits—to heart.
Maybe because she’d always been a tomboy, Maggie had never been caught in their crosshairs. Which suited her just fine. Marriage and family would never happen for her.
And she’d done her best to reconcile herself to making the most of the life God had given her. Her second chance.
Spotting a plastic big rig truck, Austin fell to the braided rug. Logan squatted in front of a toy barnyard. Callie removed a large box of cheese crackers from an overhead cabinet.
Maggie’s aunt GeorgeAnne poked her iron-gray cap of hair around the frame of the half door. “Hey!”
The three of them jerked.
Angular and somewhat bony, GeorgeAnne pushed the black-framed glasses higher on the bridge of her nose. “Did my niece tell you about the kid classes she teaches at the rec center, Wilda?”
“What kind of classes?”
Maggie sank to the carpet between the boys. “Good morning to you, too, Aunt G.”
Typical GeorgeAnne. She blew in like a hurricane. No-nonsense and straight to the point.
Seventyish, GeorgeAnne flattened her thin lips into what, for her, constituted a smile. “The class is for little kids who like to jump and run and roll. Does that sound like something your boys like to do?”
Looking up, Austin nodded. “Me do.” Logan kept his eyes glued to the small barn.
“I think your tumbling class sounds perfect.” Wilda settled herself in the gliding rocker. “I love them dearly, but I don’t mind telling you they can wear a body out.”
“That’s what Tumbling Tots does best.” GeorgeAnne smirked. “Teaches a few basic skills. And tuckers them out two mornings a week.”
“Fantastic.” Wilda blew out a breath. “Where do I sign up?”
“We’re starting a new session Monday morning. Class begins at nine.” Sitting crisscross applesauce on the rug, Maggie handed Logan a toy sheep. Austin zoomed a plastic tractor around them. “Dress them in loose-fitting, comfortable play clothes, and they’ll be good to go.” She resisted the impulse to touch their silken baby hair.
Wilda smiled. “Isn’t it just like God to allow our paths to cross? Right when we need it most?”
The morning flew by. She so enjoyed getting to know Austin, Logan and their grandmother. After the service, parents started coming in to collect their children. Wilda and the twins were the last to say goodbye. Emotion clogged Maggie’s throat.
Mustn’t cry. She dug her nails into her palms. Not now. Not ever.
After setting the room to rights, she and Callie left at the same time. Callie, on
