“Not yet.”

  “How about I pick you up at six? We can all have dinner together.”

  “Will we be going to Luanne’s or any of your relatives?” Erin needed more details this time. She didn’t want to be surprised.

  “Dinner will be at Chez James’s.”

  “Your place?”

  “My place. I’ll get some kid videos and cook my specialty.”

  “Spaghetti or chili?”

  He looked nonplussed. “Chili.”

  “Maybe I’d better drive. I have a car seat.”

  Sam was looking back into the living room. Digger grabbed a quick kiss and smiled. He said bye to Sam and went out.

  “Well, honey, it’s just us for the day. What would you like to do?”

  Sam said the last thing Erin expected to hear.

  “Go home.”

  Child psychology had been Erin’s major, but she’d never gone any further than her Bachelor’s degree. Sam was only four. Erin wondered if it would be harmful to take her to her home. It might help. Sam had left there one morning and never seen it again. The house was sitting empty. They were waiting to locate one of Sam’s relatives. If no one appeared, the house belonged to Sam.

  Erin called Luanne during Sam’s nap and the two of them agreed it was all right to let her go back there, but to try and make her understand she could not stay.

  “One more thing,” Luanne said before she hung up. “You should take Digger with you.”

  “Why Digger?”

  “She trusts the two of you. She’s most likely to believe you. If you go to the house together, she’ll have the two of you to fall back on when she discovers her parents aren’t there.”

  “Luanne, that’s an awful lot like a second father and mother waiting in the wings.”

  “It is, but under these circumstances I think that’s what Sam needs.”

  Erin knew Digger’s thoughts on a family. He didn’t want one, but he didn’t act like that when she and Sam were with him. Still, she thought asking him to go with them was manipulation on his sister’s part.

  “You’re still looking for a relative.” Erin said. “If you find one, they may not be married and she won’t get surrogate parents.”

  “I’ll leave the decision to you. I think the trust factor is more important. She’s only four. She may not see you two as parents, but you’re the only adults in her life that she trusts.”

  Erin hung up. She didn’t like the idea of setting Sam up or of forcing Digger to be a parent. He’d rebel against it just as he had that first day in her office. He was an adult. He’d see the manipulation.

  But Erin had to do it. She had to do what was best for Sam. And she needed Digger’s help.

  Adobe ranch houses were commonplace in this part of Texas. Digger’s had distinction. The muted red and gold colors complemented the land around it, and the house sprawled. It had a center entrance and wings on opposites sides. Varieties of spiny cacti grew in his yard, some showing their colors and others hiding behind the green and straw-yellow of the season.

  The double doors were black, lacquered smooth and shielded by full-screen doors that allowed the beauty to show through.

  “We’re early,” Erin said the moment he opened the door.

  “Three hours,” Digger checked his watch. “Come on in.”

  Erin didn’t move. Sam was clinging to her.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I need you to come with us.”

  “Where?”

  “Sam’s house.”

  Erin didn’t know what his reaction would be, but she knew there would be one. It was something about children that was a point she touched each time she brought them up.

  “Why?”

  “Sam wants to go there, and Luanne and I thought it might be good for her if she gets to see it.”

  “Luanne said this?”

  Erin nodded.

  Some kind of understanding came into his eyes. She didn’t ask what it was or try to understand it.

  “I’ll get my keys.”

  In seconds they were back in the van and heading for Sam’s address. Erin had been there several times. She’d been very friendly with the Pierces and often attended holiday parties or summer picnics.

  She parked in the driveway. Digger hadn’t said a word since they left his house. He got Sam out of the car seat while Erin opened the front door. The three of them went in together, Digger carrying Sam and her picture, Erin following them.

  Sam squirmed to get down and he set her on the floor. She took off running, calling “Mommy” or “Dad” as she went from room to room.

  Erin and Digger stepped closer to each other. Their hands connected and held as Sam ran around. The house had been closed since her parents’ deaths. It smelled a little musty, but someone must have cleared the trash away for there was no odor of decaying food.

  When Sam rushed upstairs, Digger kept hold of Erin’s hand as they followed her. For the most part, they were staying out of Sam’s way, allowing her to find what she sought in her own time. When she discovered her parents weren’t there, Erin and Digger wanted to be close by. They wanted her to know she wasn’t alone.

  Sam ran through each room, opening doors and looking inside. When she finally returned to the hall she looked at them standing by the stairs.

  “Gone,” she said.

  Erin kneeled and opened her arms. Sam ran into them and clung to her.

  Digger hunched down. “Can I carry you, Sam?” She went into his arms and he turned. The photo frame fell from her hands and bounced down the stairs. The glass broke, and shards sprayed over the stairs like small diamonds.

  “It’s all right,” Digger calmed her before she could begin to cry. “It’s only the frame that’s broken.”

  Carefully, they went down the stairs. Erin picked up the frame and took the picture out. Sam grabbed it immediately, smoothing it out and holding it against her.

  “Take her into the other room,” Erin said. “I’ll clean up the glass.”

  They left soon after. Sam’s eyes were dry, but Erin thought Sam understood that her parents were gone forever. That they weren’t hiding somewhere and they wouldn’t be coming back.

  “Are we still invited to dinner?” Erin asked as she went into the room where Sam and Digger sat. She wanted Sam to realize she wasn’t alone.

  Digger got up. Sam continued looking at her picture.

  Digger came to Erin and kissed her, not desperately, but thoroughly. “Of course you’re still invited to dinner. I might even want you for dinner.”

  On Monday morning Digger joined the building crew. Erin’s heart jumped when she saw his truck already parked in the lot on her arrival. She headed around the front of the building where she’d parked since construction began. As she got Sam out of her seat he saw them and waved from across the yard.

  “Digger here,” Sam said, pointing.

  “I see him, too,” Erin told her.

  Sam dropped her hand and the two of them went inside. It wasn’t long before the other children arrived and the daily routine began. Erin was busy most of the morning as today’s program was primed with mishaps, class disruptions and squabbles. Every toy had at least two kids claiming it.

  Erin wanted to run to the windows and make sure Digger was out there. She hadn’t been this giddy since she was sixteen and all dressed up, waiting for her first date to a dance, but the kids kept her away. At ten o’clock, she saw him when she and Sam took coffee outside. He had his shirt off and a fine sheen of dust and sweat coated his skin. Erin had never seen anyone look sexier.

  She remembered their weekend, how that hard, muscled body had held her, how tender those strong hands could be. She imagined making love to him again. He didn’t come for coffee, but kept working. She understood why. Silently they communicated, without words, with only a look. They were like dynamite and matches. If he got near her, they would explode.

  The crew left at five. Erin and her shadow, Sam, left at six. At eight-thirty when she’d put Sam to bed and returned to the living room, Digger was at the door.

  He took her in his arms and pushed her inside, kicking the door closed behind him. “Good morning,” he said.

  “It’s not morning.”

  He kissed her again. “Good afternoon.”

  “It’s not afternoon.”

  Again, he kissed her. “Good night.”

  “If I keep this up, how long will this go on?”

  “As long as I can stand it,” he groaned and deepened the kiss. Erin gave herself up to Digger. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pushed her aroused body into his. Digger’s hands roved down her back and over her hips. Erin trembled as her nerve endings sprang to life.

  Digger lifted his head. He kept his arm around her as they walked to the sofa.

  “Do you want something to drink?”

  He gathered her close to him as they sat down. “I already have a drink.” His look was openly lustful.

  Erin settled against him. She felt at home, happy, peaceful. For a moment, they said nothing.

  “How’s Sam?” he asked.

  “She’s still clinging. I’d hoped taking her back to her home would resolve some of the issues she’s holding inside.”

  “She’s only four, Erin. She’ll come around. Children are remarkably resilient.”

  Erin wanted to ask him a million questions. She knew it would alter him, change his good mood to something unhappy. But she had to bring it up.

  “Digger, what happened to your son?”

  She felt him retreat. He didn’t move; his body was against hers. He was holding her, one arm around her shoulder, the other draped around her waist, yet her question had separated them, drawn a line between them that became a gap. He shifted away from her, moving his arms, linking his hands and sitting forward.

  “Don’t go there.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t want to talk about that.” He stood up and paced the room. He pushed his hands in his pockets. Erin had never seen him like this. She recognized hurt. She knew a lost child was something you never got over.

  “Maybe if you did you could make peace with it.”

  “What do you know?” he snapped.

  Erin sat back as if he’d hit her. She got up and went to him. She raised her arms and dropped them, unsure if he’d let her touch him.

  “Don’t you trust me, Digger?”

  He faced her and she went into his arms. It felt good to be held.

  “This has nothing to do with trust.”

  “It has everything to do with trust.” The words echoed in her mind as if she hadn’t realized what she’d said and it needed to be repeated back to her, reverberated as it gained strength and volume. Erin pushed herself out of his arms. She had assumed they were a couple, that they were developing a relationship. That there was a future for the two of them.

  Together.

  She should have known better. That wasn’t going to happen.

  “What’s wrong?” Digger asked.

  “I’m stepping over the line.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I made an incorrect assumption.” He was about to say something, but she continued. “It isn’t you. You didn’t do anything. I assumed we were on the road to a relationship. I forgot that neither one of us is looking for a relationship. Relationships require trust, commitment, a willingness to share. What we have is as simple as chemistry.”

  “Erin—”

  “It’s all right.” She raised her hands, palms out, interrupting him. “I know some people equate chemistry with love. I’m not one of them. But I was falling, Digger. I was well and truly on my way.”

  She crossed her arms, turned around, presenting him with her back. She was confused. Somehow she’d forgotten, lost herself in his lovemaking, in the magic they created when they joined. With him she’d lost control, forgotten to keep a tight rein on her emotions. She’d forgotten that this was not for her, not her life.

  “Erin, I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize.” She turned back to him. “I’m a hypocrite, too.” She thought of the accident. He’d lost a child. She had lost the ability to bear one.

  Digger moved toward her. Erin moved out of reach.

  “Leave.”

  He didn’t move. He look shocked as if she’d touched him with a stun gun.

  “Erin,” he said, moving to take her in his arms.

  “There are a million things you don’t know about me. Just as there must be a million I don’t know about you. Things we will never know.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Don’t say anything. Just go.”

  He didn’t move.

  “Go!” she shouted.

  He stared at her for a moment, then turned and left.

  She waited. She knew the sound of his footsteps, knew how long it would take him to cross the porch, the walkway, reach the door and climb into the cab of his truck. She knew the second it would start up and how long it would take to back into the street. She waited that precise amount of time before she sank down onto the sofa and stared dry-eyed into the dying light of the summer sun.

  The music was loud. The place was smoky. Digger sat at the bar, a glass of bourbon in his hand. He read the napkin, Eddie’s Bar. He was in Austin. He didn’t remember how he’d gotten there. He’d left Erin’s and drove. He didn’t know where to go. He couldn’t go home. Erin had been there, and he could remember her sitting in his living room, eating at his table, holding the photo of his Lego city, laughing at something he’d said and hugging Sam. He could remember kissing her at the door and in just about every spot in which the two of them stopped.

  So he drove and drove.

  He thought of her and what she’d said and what she hadn’t said. He needed to get on with his life, not just pretend he was getting on. He needed to bury Josh and find new experiences in the world, new risks to take. His family condoned it. They all wanted him to be happy. He was the only obstacle.

  There were things he hadn’t told Erin. He was falling, too. Not just falling. It was too late. He was already in love with her. He’d fallen fast and hard. He wanted to know everything about her, from the moment she was born to the second he could hold her in his arms again.

  But he’d blown it. She didn’t want to see him again. She thought he hadn’t trusted her enough to tell her about Josh. It wasn’t trust. It was fear. He couldn’t handle the telling. He’d bottled that little section of his life, corked it and stored it away, refusing to look at it, to even acknowledge that it still had the ability to render him helpless. He couldn’t share that.

  He just couldn’t.

  Digger raised the shot glass. It was full. Had he drank any of it? He didn’t feel as if he had. There was no buzz in his head. Yet there was a check in front of him with several dollar bills lying on top of it.

  “What’s her name?”

  Digger looked up. The bartender stood in front of him. She looked as if she’d battled the twenties to get to thirty. She had short dark hair and a tattoo of a rose on her left forearm.

  “Whose name?” he asked.

  “The woman who sent you here.” She leaned on the bar. She had large breasts, but her shirt was buttoned high enough that none of her cleavage showed.

  “How many of these have I had?” He indicated the full shot glass.

  “One, and you haven’t touched it. You’ve held it in your hand, looked through it, but you haven’t seen it.” She took it out of his hand and set it down. “She’s got her hooks into you bad. Most men who come in here looking to drown their brains, drink till we have to pour them in a cab and send them home. They drown for a few days or a few weeks and they go on. That won’t happen to you.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Madame Sasha, seer, prophet, crystal ball reader.” She smiled. She had a beautiful smile. “Theresa,” she answered seriously. “Take it from me, I’ve seen them all. Leave the glass. Go find her.”

  If only it were that easy, Digger thought.

  Chapter Eleven

  The first room was nearly done. Two sides of it were enclosed and one side opened into the existing building. The last wall would meet the wall of the second room. The circular structure would complement the other side of the house, making it balanced even if Digger did call it a puzzle house.

  Digger hadn’t been back since the night he’d left Erin’s house. Erin had looked for him the next morning, but he hadn’t come. She didn’t know if he’d reverted to his nocturnal visits, she had to stay with Sam at night.

  It was better this way, she told herself. She knew she should never have allowed herself to get close to anyone. Doing so always ended in disaster and this time had been no different.

  Erin placed the coffee cups on the tray. By now she knew which of the men took their coffee black, with sugar and with cream. Three of them liked the French vanilla flavor and two others preferred non-dairy powder to cream.

  With Sam holding on to her photograph and to Erin, they left the building. In the past week Sam had allowed Erin to move small distances away from her. But Erin leaving the building without Sam would cause the child to go into hysterics.

  The men saw them coming and immediately gathered to meet them. Erin passed out the cups.

  “Good morning, Sam.” Jackson took one of the French vanilla cups and smiled. Sam took a step closer to Erin. Each morning Jackson tried to coax Sam into talking to him. So far he hadn’t gotten her to say a word. “Can I see your picture?”

  Sam answered by holding the picture closer.

  Out of the corner of her eye Erin saw Digger. His eyes caught hers and held. Her fingers lost their ability to grasp the tray and it trembled. For an eternity nothing moved and no sound penetrated her ears. Then he turned away. Erin felt as if someone had cut her heart out.

  Sam must have seen Digger, too. For the first time since her parents died, she moved voluntarily from Erin’s side—headed across the construction yard.