Bunk plodded down the porch steps; Ty stepped inside.

  “Men think flowers are a gateway.”

  “Well…”

  “They’re usually right. And you’re lucky I haven’t had a chance to replace my kitchen flowers. You can come back. I’m going to make some tea. Do you want some tea?”

  “I wouldn’t mind. You look good.”

  She glanced at him as they walked to the kitchen.

  “I’m a lot better than I was when you saw me last.”

  “I’m glad to hear it, to see it.” He smiled at the card and the paper flower on the fridge. “Bray’ll be happy you put those up.”

  “Pretty clever, using Bunk as a carrier.” After setting the flowers on the island, she turned to make the tea—and her hands reached for Leona’s pot. “Whose idea?”

  “The first round’s on me. But the others, stuff he made in school? He wanted to send them. I’m trying to talk him down to one a week so you’re not buried in preschool art. I cop to it being a little sneaky.”

  “Grammie said subtle.”

  “I’ll take subtle.” He slid his hands into his pockets. “Bray misses you. That’s a fact, not a ploy. I miss you. I miss the hell out of you, and that’s a fact.”

  Other decisions coming, Thea thought as she set the pot on the counter. “I miss him, and I miss hearing your music, since I’m not outside as much, and have the windows closed.”

  “When you’re ready … Maybe we can’t pick up where we left off, but I’d like to. Or at whatever point works. Or you could come down with Bunk sometime, and I can make myself scarce, so you see Bray.”

  “You’d make yourself scarce?”

  “If that’s what you need, sure. He’s just five. He doesn’t get it.” Then he shrugged. “He’s five. He shouldn’t have to get it.”

  “No, he shouldn’t. Let’s sit down a minute.” Taking the initiative, she sat at the kitchen counter. A casual spot, and friendly enough.

  She kept her hands busy pouring out tea.

  “I didn’t trust you with a vital part of who I am. I had reasons, but that part’s on me. I’m going to tell you why. I didn’t have a need to tell anyone before my parents were killed, and that’s mostly because it made my mother uneasy. I’ll never know exactly why, but it did. After, being here, it just was. I’m Lucy Lannigan’s granddaughter, and that’s that. But when I went to college, I decided I’d just be … ordinary. Nobody knew me there, I’d study and make new friends, and just be.”

  She picked up her own tea, then set it down again. “Then there was a boy, freshman year. I told you, late start for me. I told him, and he said awful things to me. Breaking it off wasn’t enough, but he said awful things. And he told someone else who said awful things, and someone else who wanted me to perform like some sideshow.”

  “I’m sorry. Betrayals are tough.”

  “They are,” she agreed. “So I closed off, and kept to myself until that died down. Anyone else I cared enough to be with, I didn’t tell. I remember what it felt like to have someone I cared about enough to share myself with turn on me, and I never wanted to feel that again.”

  She picked up her tea again. “That’s on me.”

  “Private’s private. I understand that.”

  She nodded. “The other part’s on you. You never gave me a chance to explain, or to tell you, or try to.”

  He kept his eyes level with hers. “And I said awful things.”

  “You did. You said you had a history, and that’s why. I’d like to hear it.”

  “All right.” He shifted as if he’d prepared to do exactly that. “I told you about Bray’s mother.”

  “You did.”

  “It goes back before that. Before finding an underage girl naked in my hotel room bed, and other incidents. You had a boy, I had a girl. We were together through most of high school. She was my first, I was hers.”

  He smiled a little. “I didn’t get a late start there. I loved her, figured it was forever the way you do at sixteen, seventeen. She liked the music. Maybe she thought it was more a hobby, but she liked it. Liked when we had a gig and she could come and watch.”

  “I’m with the band,” Thea murmured.

  “Yeah, like that. She didn’t like it as much when we started getting more gigs, and she couldn’t always come. But we stuck.” He shrugged. “Until we didn’t. She went off to college, I didn’t, but not a lot of drama there.”

  For a moment, he frowned down at his tea, but didn’t drink.

  Seeing her, Thea thought, the girl, his first. Seeing himself.

  “The way I figure, looking back, we both believed the other would change their mind, right? But instead, we drifted into our own worlds. Then Code Red hit. Recording contract, ‘Ever Yours’ blasting its way up the charts. I don’t know how ready we were for it, but man, we were in it.

  “And in the middle of that first rush, the touring, Grammy nominations, she did some interviews. My high school sweetheart, complete with photos of us from back then. And how I broke her heart, dumped her when I got a taste of success. How I hated my family.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah, oh. I said shit to her when I was battling my parents about college or music. Shit you’d say to someone you loved, you trusted when you’re seventeen and feel pressured and misunderstood. You know what I mean. Sorry,” he corrected quickly, “you don’t.”

  “I had my moments with and about Grammie as a teenager.”

  “Impossible. She’s perfect.” He sat back. “After, she contacted me, telling me they’d twisted her words, took things out of context, but the fact was, she told them things, private things, things that hurt my family. For money, for a little reflected shine. That was the first, not the last. The last, Bray’s mother. It’s not just me now, Thea. I have to look out for him.”

  “All right.”

  “All right?”

  “I know what it’s like to feel betrayed and sliced open. I know the shields you put up so it won’t happen again. I guess we have to figure out what we want to do about it. Lowering those shields, trusting someone not to do that to you again, it’s a lot.”

  “This is a start. Sitting here, having tea. Maybe you could come down and see Bray. I really screwed up his happy when I locked you out.”

  “I will. I’ve missed him.” Looking at him, she lowered a shield. “I’ve missed you.”

  “Thea.” He reached across the table; she reached back.

  Outside, Bunk barked.

  “That’s the someone’s-coming signal.” Sliding her hand from his, she rose. “I need to go see.”

  Since the signal came from the front of the house, she walked through. And took the time to remind herself she’d be wise to take this slow. Lowering shields, yes, but opening herself again, really opening to him, to her own feelings?

  Best to take it slow.

  When she opened the door, she saw Bunk greeting Nadine, who walked with her youngest on her hip, another in her growing baby belly, and a diaper bag on her shoulder.

  And with fear all over her. A fear so deep, so wide, no shield would have blocked it.

  “Nadine.” Alarmed, Thea rushed down the steps, ran to meet her. “What is it? What happened?”

  “I can’t find Adalaide. I can’t find her.” Tears rolled down cheeks already splotched by them. “I went to Miss Lucy, but she’s not there. Help me. Please help me, Thea.”

  “Come in. Here, let me take him. Come in, sit down. You’ve walked a long way.”

  “I looked everywhere. I called and called for her. It’s been more’n an hour now, and I don’t know how much before … I don’t know. Help me, please.”

  “Of course I’ll help you.” She juggled the baby on her hip as she reached the open front door where Ty stood.

  “I’ll call the sheriff.”

  “No, no, please!” Fresh fear leaped into Nadine’s swimming eyes. “They could take her away from me. What if they take her away? Thea, please.”

  “We won’t call Will just yet. Don’t worry. Sit now, by the fire. Your hands are freezing. Ty, get Nadine some tea, would you? Sit, Nadine. Think of the baby inside you and sit. Sit, and tell me what happened.”

  “She’s mad at me. She’s awful mad at me.” Sobbing now, Nadine covered her face with her hands. “She wants to go to school, with the other kids, and her daddy says no. She’s too young to go off like that, and how I can teach her at home just as well. She won’t be five till next week.

  “She’s just a baby, and I can’t find her. She was so mad at me, and I snapped at her. I was tired because Curtis Lee was fussing half the night, and I still feel poorly some mornings, like I did when I was carrying her and Curtis Lee.”

  “Take that tea from Tyler, and drink some.”

  “Please, I can’t. I just—”

  “Nadine, I need you to calm a little before I can help you, so you drink some tea, and trust I will help you. Ty, can you…”

  “Sure.” He took Curtis Lee. “Hey, big guy.” He fished his keys out of his pocket, handed them over before sitting on the floor with the little boy and Bunk.

  “She was upset,” Thea said.

  “So mad at me. She wants to go to school, but her daddy—I didn’t stand up for her. And her cousin Marlie showed her this paper flower she made in class, and it set her off. This morning she said how she’d walk to school, and how she was gonna go live at her granny’s, and I was too stupid to teach her, and I snapped at her how she wasn’t walking anywhere, and how she lived here and should be grateful, and should be ashamed saying her mama was stupid. So I wasn’t teaching her anything today, and she could go mope and whine in her room.”

  “Drink some more tea, Nadine.”

  “I heard her banging around in there for a while. And oh, Thea, I was so mad at her for sassing me that way. I got busy with Curtis Lee and my housework, and when he finally went down for a nap, I lay down with him for just a little bit. I was so tired.”

  “It’s all right.”

  “But no. No. When I woke up, the house was so quiet, and I felt a draft because the front door was open. She wasn’t in her room, or in the house. I went out looking for her, but I couldn’t find her. She took her coat, and the little backpack I got her so she’d feel like it was school when we had our lessons.”

  Her hand shook as she set the cup aside. “Please help me. Please find her for me. She’s lost, and maybe she’s hurt. I called and called all the way down to Miss Lucy’s, but she never answered.”

  Nadine rummaged in the diaper bag and pulled out a worn pink stuffed bear. “Her granny made this for her right after she was born. She still sleeps with it every night.”

  “This is fine. This is good.” As she took the bear, Thea blocked out the sound of the baby babbling, the keys rattling.

  “Nadine, you can help me by staying calm, showing you trust me.”

  “I do trust you. I do, I do. But—”

  “Calm, and you just close your eyes and picture Adalaide back home. Safe and warm, your arms around her. You picture that, and that’ll help me make it true.”

  “I’ll try.”

  Thea stroked the pink bear, felt the little girl cuddling it, soothing herself, talking to it, telling it her secrets. Holding it close, Thea opened.

  So angry. Mama sleeping with Curtis Lee because she loved him more.

  So defiant. She would walk to school. She would live with Granny and Paw. She’d make paper flowers and play with friends and have a real teacher.

  She walked, and she walked. Along the road at first, but then turned off, onto a trail.

  “The road seems too long,” Thea murmured. “Mama walks on the trail going down and down, and once we saw a bear, but it didn’t bother us any. Tired, though. Stop and rest, then walk. Tired now. Thirsty. Wants Mama now.

  “Shh,” Thea cautioned when Nadine began to cry again.

  “Tired, and sad and hungry, too. Mama has to come. She got a scratch from the brambles, and Mama has to come fix it, kiss it better.

  “Rest again. Curl up. Cold.”

  Thea rubbed the bear, rubbed her hand, then breathed out.

  “There you are. I know where you are.”

  “Where is she? Oh, Thea, where’s my little girl?”

  “She’s just a couple hundred yards from Katie Roster’s house, sleeping under an oak tree. You sit!” Thea snapped as Nadine started to leap to her feet. “Do you have Katie’s number?”

  “No, I—”

  “I do, in my office. I’m going to call her, and she’ll go get Adalaide, get her inside and warm a lot quicker.”

  When Thea walked away, Nadine hurried after her. And Curtis Lee toddled behind her calling, “Mama, Mama, Mama.”

  Nadine scooped him up as Thea made the call. And Rem walked in the front door.

  As he gave Ty a long, hard look, Ty lifted a hand. “If you want to punch me, save it for later. We’re in the middle of a crisis. A missing kid. Thea found her. She just … found her.”

  “Whose kid? Nadine?” He rushed back. “Adalaide? Sit down, Nadine.”

  “I’ve been sitting. Please, Thea. Did she find my baby? Did Katie find her?”

  “Katie’s girl’s home, and she’s already going out to get her.”

  “Katie is easy a mile from our place. She walked so far. She’s just a little girl. When I think of what could’ve happened … Do they have her yet?”

  Thea held up a finger. “Thank you. I don’t doubt it. Katie has her. Rem’s going to drive Nadine up right now,” she said to Katie as Nadine turned into Rem’s arms to sob. “I’ll tell her. Yes, I will. Thank you, Katie. Bye.

  “She’s fine,” Thea told Nadine as she hung up. “She told Katie she was hungry because she didn’t pack a lunch for school. They’re going to give her some hot chocolate and some soup. Rem, you’ll drive Nadine up to Katie’s, won’t you?”

  “Sure. We’ll talk later,” he said to Thea, then looked at Ty. “We’ll talk later. I’ve got this one. Whoa! You eat bricks for breakfast?” he asked Curtis Lee.

  Nadine turned from Rem to embrace Thea. “Thank you.” She stepped back and swiped her hands over her face. “Adalaide’s going to school. Her daddy’s just going to have to get used to it.”

  “Let’s go get the future scholar.” Rem put an arm around Nadine and led her out.

  “With Bray it was minutes,” Ty murmured. “I’ve never been so scared. She’s been looking more than an hour. Pregnant, hauling a toddler, scared out of her mind. And you found that little girl. You just … found her.”

  “And she’s fine. A few scratches, one tumble where she banged her knee. But she’s fine.”

  “What you did? Thea—it was amazing. And you look a little pale now, so you should sit down.”

  “It can take a little out of you, depending.” But she did sit, back in the kitchen, and drank the tea that had gone cold to soothe her dry throat. “Between Nadine and Adalaide, a lot of emotion.”

  “You’re rubbing your hand again. It gave you a headache.”

  “Opening like that…”

  “It’s Riggs,” Ty realized.

  “It’ll pass. I just need to settle, and it’ll pass.”

  “You knew this would happen, but you did it anyway.”

  “Of course I did. When you can help, you help.”

  “Just like that.”

  She nodded, closed her eyes as Bunk laid his head on her knee. “It’s what I have and who I am. I wouldn’t change it, not for anyone. Even you.”

  A lick of temper burned in his voice. “Who’s asking you to change it? I said it before, and I’ll say it now. You’re a goddamn miracle.”

  Her hand shook a little when she set the tea down again, and Ty paced.

  “I wanted to call the sheriff, and was trying to figure out how I could do that while you were getting her calmed down. They’d’ve found her, eventually. But meanwhile that woman’s going out of her mind. I’d’ve been going out of mine. And all she had to do was ask for your help, and in minutes, just minutes really, the kid’s safe and drinking hot chocolate.

  “And you? You’re sitting here fighting off that son of a bitch who’ll do everything he can to hurt you.”

  “It’s already passing.” Faster than she’d expected. It felt as if Ty’s anger sucked the pain right out of her.

  “That’s not the point.” He stopped, turned on his heel to stare at her. “It’s not the damn point. You took this on knowing he’d find a way in to hurt you.”

  “What would you have done?”

  “It’s not about me. No, hold on, it is. It’s going to be about me right now.”

  He paced the kitchen again. “Yeah, it’s about me because I saw you do this. I saw you hold on to a handmade pink bear and find a child lost up there somewhere. I saw you reach in and know where she was, and how she felt. And if that isn’t enough of a kick in the balls, I see the price you paid for it, the price you knew you’d pay. So I know who you are now, what you have. I don’t know how you have it, but I know why.”

  He shoved his hands into his pockets. “And I’m done. Finished.” He yanked them out again. “The whole idea of taking this, with you, step-by-step, slow and easy, seeing how that works? That’s bullshit.”

  “Then you need to—”

  “Don’t interrupt a man in the middle of a watershed moment. If the only way I can get you is that step-by-step, slow-and-easy, seeing-how-it-works bullshit, I’ll give it my best shot. Because I’m not letting go. Goddamn it, Thea, I’m not letting go.”

  He took a beat, and with it, the anger seemed to drain out of him.

  “But since this is about me right now, you need to understand the slow and easy’s not what I want. I want you. I want you in my life starting right now. And I’m going to tell you what I, very deliberately, haven’t said to another woman since I was seventeen. I’m in love with you. I’m in love with every part of you.”

  Because she’d stopped rubbing her hand, he sat and took it in his. “You said you loved me. If that’s still on the table—”

  “You don’t clear love off the table like an empty serving dish.”

  “Then give me a chance. Give us a chance, Thea. If it won’t hurt you, dive in. See what I’m thinking, feeling.”