CHAPTER ONE

“I CAN’T BELIEVE I’m doing this,” Robin Masterson muttered as she crawled into the makeshift tent pitched over the clothesline in the backyard of her new home.

“Come on, Mom,” ten-year-old Jeff urged, shifting to make room for her. “It’s warm as toast in here.”

Down on all fours, a flashlight in one hand, Robin squeezed her way inside. Jeff had constructed the flimsy tent using clothespegs to hold up the blankets and rocks to secure the base. The space was tight, but she managed to manoeuvre her slim body into the sleeping bag.

“Isn’t this great?” Jeff asked. He stuck his head out of the front opening and gazed at the dark sky and the spattering of stars that winked back at them. On second thought Robin decided they were laughing at her, those stars. And with good reason. There probably wasn’t another thirty-year-old woman in the entire state of California who would agree to this craziness.

It was the first night in their new house and Robin was exhausted to the bone. They’d started moving out of the apartment before five that morning and she’d just finished unpacking the last box. The beds were assembled, but Jeff wouldn’t hear of doing anything as mundane as sleeping on a real mattress. After waiting years to camp out in his own backyard, her son wasn’t about to delay the adventure by even one night.

Robin couldn’t let him sleep outside alone, and, since he hadn’t met any neighbours yet, there was only one option left. Surely there would be a Mother of the Year award in this for her.

“You want to hear a joke?” Jeff asked, rolling on to his back and nudging her.

“Sure.” She swallowed a yawn, hoping she could stay awake long enough to laugh at the appropriate time. She needn’t have worried.

For the next half-hour, Robin was entertained with a series of riddles, nonsense rhymes and off-key renditions of Jeff’s favourite songs from summer camp.

“Knock knock,” she said when it appeared her son had run through his repertoire.

“Who’s there?”

“Wanda.”

“Wanda who?”

“Wanda who thinks up these silly jokes?”

Jeff laughed as though she’d come up with the funniest line ever devised. Her son’s enthusiasm couldn’t help but rub off on Robin and some of her weariness eased. Camping was fun—sort of. But it had been years since she’d slept on the ground and, frankly, she couldn’t remember it being quite this hard.

“Do you think we’ll be warm enough?” she teased. Jeff had used every blanket they owned, first to construct the tent and then to pad it. To be on the safe side, two or three more were piled on top of their sleeping bags on the off-chance an Arctic frost descended upon them. It was spring, but a San Francisco spring could be chilly.

“Sure,” he answered, missing the kidding note in her voice. “But if you get cold, you can have one of mine.”

“I’m fine,” she assured him.

“You hungry?”

Now that she thought about it, she was. “Sure. Whatcha got?”

Jeff disappeared into his sleeping bag and returned a moment later with a limp package of licorice, a small plastic bag full of squashed marshmallows and a flattened box of raisins. Robin decided to forgo the snack.

“When are we going to buy me my dog?” Jeff asked, chewing loudly on the raisins.

Robin listened to the sound and said nothing.

“Mom…the dog?” he repeated after a few moments.

Robin had been dreading the question most of the day. She’d managed to forestall Jeff for the past month by telling him they’d discuss getting a dog after they were settled in their house.

“I thought we’d start looking for ads in the paper first thing tomorrow,” Jeff said, still munching.

“I’m not sure when we’ll start the search for the right dog.” She was a coward, Robin freely admitted, but she so hated to disappoint Jeff. He had his heart set on a dog. How like his father he was, in his love for animals.

“I want a big one, you know. None of those fancy little poodles or anything.”

“A collie would be nice, don’t you think?”

“Or a German shepherd,” Jeff added.

“Your father loved dogs,” she whispered, although she’d told Jeff that countless times. Lonny had been gone for so many years, she had trouble remembering what their lives had been like together. They’d been crazy in love with each other and married shortly after their high-school graduation. A year later, Robin became pregnant. Jeff had been barely six months old when Lonny was killed in a freak car accident on his way home from work. In the span of a few short moments, Robin’s comfortable cosy world had been sent into a tailspin, and ten years later it was still whirling.

With her family’s help, she’d gone back to school and obtained her degree. She was now a certified public accountant working for a large San Francisco insurance firm. Over the years she’d dated a number of men, but none she’d ever seriously consider marrying. She wasn’t a high-school kid any longer and her life was far more complicated now than it had been at eighteen. The thought of falling in love again terrified her.

“What kind of dog did Dad have when he was a kid?” Jeff asked.

“I don’t think Rover was any particular breed,” Robin answered, then paused to recall exactly what Lonny’s childhood dog had looked like. “I think he was mostly…Labrador.”

“Was he black?”

“And brown.”

“Did Dad keep any other animals?”

Robin smiled at the warm memory of her late husband. She enjoyed the way Jeff loved hearing stories about his father. No matter how many times he’d heard them. “He collected three more pets the first year we were married. It seemed he was always bringing home a stray cat or lost dog. We couldn’t keep them, of course, because we weren’t allowed pets in the apartment complex. We went to great lengths to hide them for a few days until we could locate their owners or find them a good home. For our first wedding anniversary, he bought me a goldfish. Your father really loved animals.”

Jeff beamed and planted his chin on top of his folded arms.

“We dreamed of buying a farm someday and raising chickens and pigs and maybe a cow or two. Your father even talked of buying a pony for you.” Hard as she might try, she couldn’t quite hide the pain in her voice. Even after all these years, the memory of Lonny’s sudden death still hurt. Looking at her son, so eager for a dog of his own, Robin missed her husband more than ever.

“You and Dad were going to buy a farm?” Jeff cried, his young voice ebullient. “A pony for me? Really? Do you think we’ll ever be able to afford one? Look how long it took to save enough to buy the house.”

Robin smiled. “I think we’ll have to give up on the idea of you and me owning a farm, at least in the near future.”

When they’d first married, Robin and Lonny had talked for hours about their dreams. They’d charted their lives, confident that nothing would ever separate them. Their love had been far too strong. Robin had never told Jeff about buying a farm. Nor had she told him how they’d planned to name it Paradise. Paradise, because that was what the farm would be to them. In retrospect, not telling Jeff was a way of protecting him. He’d lost so much—not only the guidance and love of his father but all the things they could have had as a family. She’d never mentioned the pony before, or the fact that Lonny had always longed for a horse of his own, too….

Jeff yawned loudly and Robin marvelled at his endurance. He’d carted in as many boxes as the movers had, racing up and down the stairs with an energy Robin could only envy. He’d unpacked the upstairs bathroom, as well as his own bedroom and had helped her organise the kitchen.

“I can hardly wait to get my dog,” Jeff said, his voice tapering to a murmur. Within minutes he was sound asleep.

“A dog,” Robin said softly as her eyes closed. She didn’t know how she was going to break the bad news to Jeff. They couldn’t get a dog—at least not right away. She was unwilling to leave a large dog locked indoors all day while she went off to work and Jeff was in school. Tying one up in the backyard was equally unappealing, and she couldn’t afford to build a fence. Not this year, anyway. Then there was the cost of feeding a dog and paying the vet’s bills. With this new home, Robin’s budget was already stretched to the limit.

* * *

ROBIN AWOKE FEELING chilled and warm at the same time. In the gray dawn, she glanced at her watch. Six-thirty. At some point during the night, the old sleeping bag that dated back to her high-school days had come unzipped and the cool morning air had chilled her arms and legs. Yet her back was warm and cozy. Jeff had probably snuggled up to her during the night. She sighed, determined to go back to sleep for another half-hour or so. With that thought in mind, she reached for a blanket to wrap around her shoulders and met with some resistance. She tugged and pulled, but to no avail. It was then that she felt something wet and warm close to her neck. Her eyes shot open. Very slowly, she turned her head until she came eyeball to eyeball with a big black dog.

Robin gasped loudly and struggled into a sitting position, which was difficult with the sleeping bag and several blankets wrapped around her legs, imprisoning her.

“Where did you come from?” she demanded, edging away from the dog. The Labrador had eased himself between her and Jeff and made himself right at home. His head rested on his paws and he looked perfectly content, if a bit disgruntled to have his nap interrupted. He didn’t seem at all interested in vacating the premises.

Jeff rolled over and opened his eyes. Immediately, he bolted upright. “Mom,” he cried excitedly. “You got me a dog!”

“No—he isn’t ours. I don’t know who he belongs to.”

“Me!” Jeff’s voice was triumphant. “He belongs to me.” His thin arms hugged the animal’s neck. “You really got me a dog! It was supposed to be a surprise, wasn’t it?”

“Jeff,” she said firmly. “I don’t know where this animal came from, but he isn’t ours.”

“He isn’t?” His voice sagged in disappointment. “But who owns him then? And how did he get inside the tent with us?”

“Heavens, I don’t know.” Robin rubbed the sleep from her eyes while she attempted to put her garbled thoughts in some kind of order. “He looks too well fed and groomed to be a stray. He must belong to someone in the neighborhood. Maybe he—”

“Blackie!” As if in reply, she was interrupted by a crisp male voice. “Blackie. Here, boy.”

The Labrador lifted his head, but stayed where he was. Robin didn’t blame him. Jeff was stroking his back with one hand and rubbing his ears with the other, all the while crooning to him softly.

With some effort, Robin managed to divest herself of the sleeping bag. She reached for her tennis shoes and crawled out of the tent. No sooner was she on her feet than she turned to find a lanky man standing not more than a few yards from her, just on the other side of the hedge that separated the two properties. Obviously he was her neighbour. Robin smiled, but the friendly gesture was not returned. In fact, the man looked downright unfriendly.

Her neighbour was also an imposing man, at least six feet tall. Since Robin was only five-three, he towered head and shoulders above her. Instinctively, she stiffened her back, meeting his dark eyes. “Good morning,” she said coolly.

He barely looked in her direction, and when he did, he dismissed her with little more than a nod. After a night on the ground, with her son and a dog for bedmates, Robin realised she wasn’t going to win any beauty pageants, but she resented the way his eyes flickered disinterestedly over her.

Robin usually gave people the benefit of the doubt, but towards this man, she felt an immediate antipathy. His face was completely emotionless, which gave him an intimidating air. He was clearly aware of that and used it to his advantage.

“Good morning,” she said again, clasping her hands tightly. She drew herself to her full height and lifted her chin. “I believe your dog is in the tent with my son.”

Her news appeared to surprise him; his face softened. Robin was struck by the change. When his face relaxed, he was actually a very attractive man. For the most part, Robin barely noticed how good-looking a man was or wasn’t, but this time…she noticed. Perhaps because of the contrast with his forbidding demeanor of only a moment before.

“Blackie knows better than to leave the yard. Here, boy!” He shouted for the Labrador again, this time including a sharp whistle loud enough to pierce Robin’s eardrums. Almost immediately the dog emerged from the tent and reluctantly approached the hedge.

“Is that your dog?” Jeff asked, dashing out right behind Blackie. “He’s great. How long have you had him?”

“I’ll make sure he doesn’t bother you again,” the man said, ignoring Jeff’s question. Robin supposed his words were meant to be an apology. “He’s well trained—he’s never left my yard before. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“Blackie wasn’t any bother,” Jeff hurried to explain, racing forward. “He crawled into the tent with us and made himself at home, which was all right with us, wasn’t it, Mom?”

“Sure,” Robin answered, flipping her shoulder-length auburn hair away from her face. She’d had it tied at the nape when she’d gone to bed, but it had pulled free during the night. Robin could well imagine how it looked now. Most mornings it tended to resemble foam on a newly poured mug of beer.

“We’re friends, aren’t we, Blackie?” Jeff knelt, and without hesitation the dog came to him, eagerly licking his face.

The man’s eyes revealed fleeting surprise, and his dark brows drew together over his high-bridged nose. “Blackie,” he snapped. “Heel.”

The Labrador squeezed between two overgrown laurel bushes and returned to his master, who didn’t look any too pleased at his dog’s affection for Jeff.

“My son has a way with animals,” Robin explained.

“Do you live here?” Jeff asked next. He seemed completely unaware of their new neighbour’s unfriendliness.

“Next door.”

“Oh, good,” Jeff returned with a wide grin. He placed his right hand on his chest. “I’m Jeff Masterson and this is my mom, Robin. We moved in yesterday.”

“I’m Cole Camden. Welcome to the neighbourhood.”

Although his words were cordial, his tone wasn’t. Nor the look on his face. Robin felt about as welcome as a punk-rock band at a retirees’ picnic.

“I’m getting a dog myself soon,” Jeff went on affably. “That’s why we moved out of the apartment building—I couldn’t have a pet there except my goldfish.”

Cole nodded without comment.

Oh, great, Robin thought. After years of scrimping and saving to buy a house, they were going to be stuck with an ill-tempered next-door neighbour. His house was older than the others on the block. Much bigger, too. Robin guessed that his home, a sprawling three-storey structure, had been built in the early thirties. She knew that at one time this neighbourhood had been filled with large opulent homes like Cole Camden’s. Gradually, over the years, the older homes had been torn down and a series of two-storey houses and trendy ramblers built in their place. Her neighbour’s house was the last vestige of an era long past.

“Have you got any kids?” Jeff could hardly keep the eagerness out of his voice. In the apartment complex there had always been plenty of playmates around, and the ten-year-old was eager to make new friends, especially before he started classes in an unfamiliar school on Monday morning.

Cole’s face hardened and Robin could have sworn the question had angered him. An uncomfortable moment passed before he answered. “No, I don’t have any kids.” His voice held a rough undertone, and for a split second Robin was sure she saw a flash of pain in his eyes.

“Would it be all right if I played with Blackie sometimes? Just until I got my own dog?”

“No.” Cole’s response was sharp, but, when Jeff flinched at the vehemence with which he spoke, Cole appeared to regret his harsh tone. “I don’t mean to be rude, but it would probably be best if you stayed in your own yard.”

“That’s all right,” Jeff said. “You can send Blackie over here to visit any time you want. I like dogs.”

“I can see that.” A hint of a smile lifted the corners of his mouth. Then his cool gaze moved from Jeff to Robin, his face again expressionless, but she sensed that in some way he’d made up his mind about them, categorised them and come to his own conclusions.

If Cole Camden thought he could intimidate her, Robin had news for him. He’d broadcast his message loud and clear. He didn’t want to be bothered by her or her son, and in return he’d stay out of her way. That was fine with her. Terrific, in fact. She didn’t have time for humouring grouches.

Without another word, Cole turned and strode toward his house with Blackie at his heels.

“Goodbye, Mr Camden,” Jeff called, raising his hand.

Robin wasn’t surprised when their neighbour didn’t give them the courtesy of a reply.

In an effort to distract Jeff from Cole Camden’s unfriendliness, she said brightly, “Hey, I’m starving. How about you?”

Jeff didn’t answer right away. “Do you think he’ll let me play with Blackie?”

Robin sighed, thinking about the dilemma that faced her. She didn’t want Cole to hurt Jeff’s feelings, but it wasn’t likely their neighbour would appreciate her son’s affinity with his Labrador. By the same token, a neighbour’s dog, even one that belonged to a grouch, would ease her guilt over not being able to provide Jeff with the dog she’d promised him.

“What do you think, Mom?” Jeff prompted. “He’ll probably let me play with Blackie sometimes, don’t you think?”

“I don’t know, honey,” she whispered. “I just don’t know.”

* * *

LATER THE SAME DAY, after buying groceries to stock their bare kitchen shelves and picking up several other necessities, Robin counted the change at the bottom of her purse to be sure she had enough money for the subway on Monday morning. Luckily she had enough spare change for BART—Bay Area Rapid Transit—for the week, but it was packed lunches for her and Jeff until payday, which was two weeks away.

Her finances would have been in better shape if they could have waited another year to move out of the apartment, but at the rate property values were rising Robin couldn’t possibly have saved to keep pace with inflation. The interest rates were at a two-year low and she’d decided soon after the first of the year that if she was ever going to move out of the apartment this was the time.

“Mom!” Jeff crashed through the back door, breathless. “We’re in trouble.”

“Oh?” Robin glanced up from the salad she was mixing. A completely disgusted look on his face, her son flung himself into a chair and plopped his elbows on the table. Then he let out a forceful sigh.

“What’s wrong, Jeff?”

“I’m afraid we made a bad mistake.”

“How’s that?”

“There’re nothing but girls in this neighbourhood.” He made it sound as though they’d unexpectedly landed in enemy territory. “I rode my bike up and down the street and all I saw were girls.” He wrinkled his nose with aversion.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be meeting lots of boys in school Monday.”

“You aren’t taking this seriously!” Jeff cried. “I don’t even think you fully understand what this means. There are seven houses on this block. Six of them have kids and only one has a boy, and that’s me. I’m surrounded by women!”

“How’d you find all this out?”

“I asked, of course.” He sighed again. “What are you going to do about it, Mom?”

“Me?” Robin asked, somewhat taken aback. “Are you suggesting we move back to the apartment?”

Jeff considered this for only a moment. “I’d think we should if it weren’t for two things. We can’t have a dog there. And I found a fort.”

“A fort?”

“Yes,” he said solemnly. “It’s hidden way back in Mr Camden’s yard and covered by a bunch of brush. It’s real neat there. I don’t think he knows about it, because the word on the street is he doesn’t like kids. Someone must have built it and I’m going to find out who. If there’s a club going, I want in. I’ve got the right—I live closer to Mr Camden than anyone else does.”

“Agreed.” Robin munched on a slice of green pepper and handed one to Jeff. “So you think it would be all right if we stayed?”

“I guess so,” Jeff conceded, “at least until I find out more about the fort.”

Robin was about to say something else when the doorbell chimed.

Jeff’s blue eyes met hers. “I bet it’s one of those pesky girls,” he said in disgust.

“Do you want me to get rid of her?”

Jeff nodded emphatically. “Please.”

Robin was smiling when she answered the front door. Jeff was right about one thing—it was a girl, and one who, she guessed, was a couple of years younger than her son. She hadn’t come alone, though. Standing with the youngster was an adult.

“Hi,” the woman said cheerfully, flashing Robin a warm smile. “I know you’ve barely had a chance to get settled in, but I wanted to introduce myself. I’m Heather Lawrence and this is my daughter, Kelly. We live next door, and we’d like to welcome you to the neighbourhood.”

Robin introduced herself as she opened the door and invited them in. Heather was cute and perky. Her hair was cut in a short bob that bounced when she spoke. Robin knew right away she was going to like her neighbour. Heather’s warm reception was a pleasant change from the way Cole Camden had welcomed her.

“Would you like some coffee?” Robin asked.

“If you’re sure I’m not interrupting anything.”

“I’m sure.” Robin led the way into the kitchen where Jeff sat waiting. He cast her a look that suggested she should be shot for treason, then muttered something about forgetting that mothers were really girls in disguise and headed out the front door.

Robin reached for two matching ceramic mugs and poured a cup of coffee for her new friend. She offered Kelly a glass of juice, then slid into the chair across the table from the girl and her mother. “I’m sorry about Jeff.” She felt obliged to apologise. “He’s at the age where he thinks girls are a plague to society.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Heather said, smiling. “Kelly isn’t keen on boys herself.”

“They’re creeps. I’d rather ride my bicycle than visit with a boy, anyway,” the girl announced. “But Mom wanted me to come over here with her so she didn’t look like a busybody. Right, Mom?”

Heather blushed and cast her daughter a murderous glance.

Robin laughed. “I thought it would take several weeks to get to know my neighbours and I’ve met two in one day.”

“Someone else has already been over?”

“Cole Camden introduced himself this morning,” she explained, keeping her eyes averted to hide the resentment she felt toward her unfriendly neighbour. Even now, hours later, she couldn’t help thinking about the way he’d reacted to her and Jeff.

“Cole Camden introduced himself?” Heather repeated, sounding shocked. She frowned, staring into space as though digesting the fact.

“To be honest, I think he would have preferred to avoid me until the next Ice Age, but his dog wanted to make friends with Jeff.”

Heather’s mouth opened and closed twice. “Blackie did?”

“Is there something strange about that?”

“Frankly, yes. To say Cole keeps to himself is an understatement. I don’t think he’s said more than a handful of words to me in the entire two years since Kelly and I moved here. I don’t know why he continues to live in the neighbourhood.” She paused to respond to her daughter, who was asking permission to go back home. “Thank Robin for the juice, honey. Anyway,” she went on, turning back to Robin when her daughter skipped out of the door, “he’s all alone in that huge house and it’s ridiculous, really. Can you imagine what his heating bills must be? Although, personally, I don’t think money is much of a problem for him. But then, that’s something I wouldn’t know.”

It didn’t surprise Robin to learn Cole lived alone. She’d barely met the man, but guessed that life held little joy for him. It was as though love, warmth and friendship had all been found lacking and had therefore been systematically dismissed.

“Apparently, he was married once. At least that’s what I’ve heard, but he was divorced long before I moved here.”

Robin had dealt with unfriendly men before, but something about Cole struck her hard and deep, and she wasn’t sure what it was or why he would evoke such a strong feeling within her.

“He and his dog are inseparable,” Heather added.

Robin nodded, barely listening. He’d intimidated her at first, but when she’d pulled herself together and faced him squarely he’d loosened up a bit and, later, even seemed amused. But then Jeff had asked him about children, and Robin had witnessed the flash of pain in his eyes.

As if by magic, her son’s face appeared around the door. When he saw that Kelly was gone, he walked into the room, hands buried in his back pockets.

“Do you have a dog?” he asked Heather.

“Unfortunately, no. Kelly’s allergic to animal fur.”

Jeff nodded as though to say that was exactly the kind of thing he expected from a girl. “We’re getting a German shepherd soon, aren’t we, Mom?”

“Soon,” Robin responded, feeling wretched. After Heather left, she was going to tell Jeff the truth. She fully intended to let him have his dog, but he’d have to wait a while. For a good part of the day, she’d been practicing what to say. She’d even come up with a compromise idea. They could get a cat. Cats didn’t seem to mind being left on their own, and they didn’t need the same kind of exercise. Although she wasn’t crazy about keeping a litter box in the house, Robin was willing to put up with that inconvenience until she could afford to have a fence built. She planned to be positive and direct with Jeff. He’d understand. At least she hoped he would.

Heather stayed only a few minutes more, and the visit was a fruitful one. Robin learned that Heather was divorced, worked mornings in an office, and provided after-school day care in an effort to spend more time with Kelly. This information was good news to Robin and the two women agreed that Jeff would go to the Lawrence house before and after school, instead of the community centre several blocks away. The arrangement suited them both; even Jeff shrugged his agreement.

Robin would have liked to ask her new friend more about Cole, but his name didn’t come up again, and she didn’t want to seem too curious about him.

After Heather left, Robin braced herself for the talk with Jeff about getting a dog. Unfortunately, it didn’t go well. It seemed that after waiting nearly ten years, a few more months was completely unacceptable.

“You promised!” he shouted. “You said I could have a dog when we moved into the house!”

“You can, sweetheart, but not right away.”

Unusual for Jeff, tears gathered in his eyes, and he struggled to hold them back. Soon Robin felt moisture filling her own eyes. She hated disappointing Jeff more than anything. His heart was set on getting a dog right away, and he considered the offer of a cat a poor substitute.

He left the house soon afterward. In an effort to soothe his hurt feelings, Robin cooked her son’s favorite meal—macaroni cheese with sliced sausages and lots of ketchup.

She didn’t see him on the pavement or the street when she went to check half an hour later. She stood on the porch, wondering where he’d gone. His bike was parked inside the garage, and he’d already aired his views about playing with any of the girls in the neighbourhood.

It would be just like him to storm into his room in a fit of indignation and promptly fall asleep. Robin hurried upstairs to his bedroom, which was across the hall from her own.

His bed was made and his clothes hung neatly in the cupboard. Robin decided that in another day or two, everything would be back to normal.

It wasn’t until she turned to leave that she saw the note on his desk. Picking it up, Robin read the first line. Immediately, she felt a swirling sense of panic.