More. More.

Joe was the one to pull back a little and let out a shaky breath. “I think,” he said huskily, “we’d better say good-night.”

“Good-night?”

“Isn’t that the appropriate way to bid someone farewell in the evening?”

Consciousness was returning. She tried to straighten with dignity. “I knew what you meant.”

“Good.” The trace of amusement in his voice didn’t show in the molten blue of his eyes. His hand tightened on her neck, then released her. “How about a movie next week? I’d suggest tomorrow night, except…”

When he hesitated, she finished, “I might have a rebellion on my hands. Next week sounds good.”

He muttered something inarticulate, gave her a quick hard kiss, then got out. She was dazed enough to wait until he came around and opened her door, offering a hand to the little lady so she could hop down from the high seat. He walked her to the door, smiled, his eyes intense, touched her cheek and left her there.

It was the first time since her husband’s death she’d gone out with a man she wished wasn’t leaving.

NICOLE WAS DISCOURAGED, but she wasn’t about to give up. This was her life she was talking about!

Mom didn’t even listen when she tried to tell her about her day at school.

“The bathrooms are gross,” she said. “And the girls are all ignoring me. It’s like I don’t even exist.”

“Are you sure you’re not ignoring them, too?” her mother asked, handing her a cookie and a glass of milk, as if she were five years old, home from a day at kindergarten.

“I’m not walking around grinning like some idiot, saying, ‘Hi, I’m new!’ if that’s what you mean,” Nicole said disagreeably. She bit into the cookie, which was still warm.

“How about the boys?”

She shrugged. “Oh, some of them are coming on to me. Like I’d be interested in any of them. But I guess you wouldn’t understand that, would you?”

Mom’s eyes narrowed and she held up one hand. “Okay, that’s it. Time for a little chat.”

“Little chats” were lectures. Nicole wasn’t going to argue during this one. She shouldn’t have said that; Mom didn’t date very often, even though she was still pretty, and it wasn’t like she was marrying the guy. The dig had just slipped out.

Mom put her hands on her hips. “A. I will not put up with any more snotty remarks. I know you’re unhappy, but you don’t have to make everyone else unhappy, too. B. I will have no sympathy for your unhappiness until you start making some effort to adjust to the move. You’d decided you were going to hate this place before you even saw it. Why not give it a chance?”

Tears came in a rush and Nicole wailed, “Because I was happy before! What was so wrong with that?”

“Absolutely nothing,” her mother said gently. “But you can be happy again. Happiness is inside you, not a place.”

Nicole took a deep breath, sniffed and wiped at her tears. “Jeez, Mom, you ought to write greeting cards.”

Her mother gave her a mock frown. “Okay, it sounds sappy, but it’s true, believe it or not.”

“Are you happy?”

One of the nice things about her mother was that she really thought about questions like that before she gave an answer. It would have been easy to snap, “Of course I’m happy!” whether she was or not. But she frowned a little and finally said, “Yes, I think I am.” She actually sounded surprised. “This move is something I’ve wanted to do for a long time. Our house in Bellevue fit your dad better than it did me. I like small towns, I like Eric, I like this house.” She wrinkled her nose. “I guess I like a challenge. And I’ve certainly bought into one, haven’t I?”

The screen door banged and both Nicole and her mother looked up. Mark kicked the kitchen door shut, dropped his backpack on a chair and headed straight for the fridge.

Mom’s face brightened. “How was your day?”

Nicole knew what he was going to say even before he said it.

“Cool! Can I have this chocolate milk?”

“Sure. Still liking your teacher?”

“Yeah, she’s okay.” He’d found the cookies. “She’s into astronomy. I like stuff like that.”

“Make some friends?” Mom asked casually, as if it was that easy.

He shrugged and shoved a whole cookie into his mouth. Around it, he mumbled, “I hung around with a couple of guys all day. Can I watch TV?”

“Yes, you may watch TV. For half an hour.”

“Gol, I don’t have any homework or anything.” He grabbed three more cookies and his chocolate milk and headed for the living room.

Nicole blew her nose. Her own brother hadn’t even noticed she’d been crying. “How come it’s so easy for him?” she asked.

Her mother kissed the top of her head. It felt good. Comforting. “Maybe because his personality is different. He’s always been cheerful and outgoing, uncomplicated. Maybe because he’s a boy, and boys accept newcomers more readily. Maybe just his age. It’s harder to leave your friends when you’re a teenager.”

“Then…why wouldn’t you let me stay in Bellevue? I could have finished school there.”

Brown eyes serious, her mother faced her. “For lots of reasons. I might have considered it if you’d been a senior, but you have three more years of high school. I don’t think Jayne’s parents were really prepared to finish raising you, and I didn’t want to let them. I’m already in shock at how fast you and Mark are growing up. You’ll be gone before I know it. But I’m not ready yet, and neither are you. You’re still a kid, and you’re mine.”

She hardly ever sounded that firm. Secretly Nicole didn’t mind. She’d wanted to stay in Bellevue, but the idea of becoming part of her friend’s family had been a little scary. She hadn’t wanted to lose her mother or even Mark, brat though he was. She just didn’t want to move.

Now she nodded. But she wasn’t going to pretend she was Mark, either. “I still hate it here.”

“I know.” Her mother gave her an odd twisted smile. “But I hope, after a while, that you won’t. Think about getting a horse. That might be some consolation.”

Nicole had always wanted a horse more than almost anything else in the world. But she wasn’t about to let her mother buy her cooperation. She shrugged sulkily. “I’m not a little kid anymore.”

“Well, then,” Mom sounded as tart as a green apple, “don’t act like one.”

Nicole stomped off to her bedroom.

LEAVING NICOLE sulking in her bedroom and Mark in front of the TV, Teresa went to town. The farmhouse needed remodeling, starting with the basics, and she might as well take advantage of the rest of her day off. She hadn’t forgotten Joe’s sister worked at Browder’s Flooring, but Teresa told herself curiosity wasn’t why she’d chosen to start there.

A woman named Carol offered to help her, then let her browse in peace among the carpet and vinyl samples. Almost immediately she realized she’d better choose kitchen and bathroom countertops before the flooring.

The back of the store was a veritable treasure trove, if you liked redoing houses. Shelf after slanted shelf held tiles in a mouth-watering selection of colors and textures. Blinds in colors equally rich covered mock windows on the wall and were topped by calico and satin and wood valances.

Teresa headed straight for a lacy pleated blind that would be perfect for her old house.

At her murmured “ooh” of pleasure, an amused voice from behind her said, “A woman of taste, I can tell. I put that one in my own living room.” When Teresa turned, the woman held out one hand. “Hi, I’m Rebecca Ballard.”

Joe’s sister-with-a-big-mouth. In her mid to late thirties, she had little in common with him physically except the blue eyes. Her curly brown hair brushed her shoulders, her smile was as warm as a cup of hot chocolate, and she was just a little plump—and undeniably pregnant. Teresa liked her on sight.

“Teresa Burkett,” she introduced herself.