CHAPTER TWO

FOR A MOMENT, Robin was too stunned to react. Her heart was pounding so hard that it echoed in her ears like thunder, so loud it seemed to knock her off balance.

Rushing down the stairs, she stood on the porch, cupped her hands over her mouth and screamed frantically. “Jeff!”

Cole Camden was standing on his front porch, too. He released a shrill whistle and stood waiting expectantly. When nothing happened, he called, “Blackie!”

“Jeff!” Robin tried again.

“Blackie!”

Robin called for Jeff once more, but her voice cracked as the panic engulfed her. She paused, placed her hand over her mouth and closed her eyes in an effort to gather her composure, which was crumbling more every minute.

“Blackie!” Cole yelled. He looked furious about his dog’s disappearance.

It took Robin only a moment to put two and two together. “Cole,” she cried, running across the lawn toward him, “I think Jeff and Blackie might have run away together.”

Cole looked at her as though she were deranged, and Robin couldn’t really blame him. “Jeff left me a note. He wants a dog so badly and we can’t get one right away because…well, because we can’t, and I had to tell him, and he was terribly disappointed and he decided to run away.”

Cole’s mouth thinned. “The whole idea is ridiculous. Even if Jeff did run away, Blackie would never go with him.”

“Do you honestly think I’d make something like this up?” she shrieked. “The last time I saw Jeff was around four-thirty, and I’d bet cold cash that’s about the same time Blackie disappeared.”

Cole’s gaze narrowed. “Then where are they?”

“If I knew that, do you think I’d be standing around here arguing with you?”

“Listen, lady, I don’t know your son, but I know my dog and—”

“My name’s not lady,” Robin flared, clenching her hands into tight fists at her sides. He was looking at her as though she were a madwoman on the loose—which she was where her son was concerned. “I’m sorry to have troubled you. When I find Jeff, I’ll see to it that your dog finds his way home.”

Cole’s eyes shot sparks in her direction, but she ignored them. Turning abruptly, she ran back to her own house. Halfway there, she stopped dead, and whirled around to face Cole again. “The fort.”

“What fort?” Cole demanded.

“The one that’s back in the furthest corner of your yard. It’s covered with brush…. Jeff found it earlier today. He wouldn’t know anywhere to go and that would be the perfect hiding place.”

“No one’s been there in years,” Cole said, discounting her suggestion.

“The least we can do is look.”

Cole’s nod was reluctant. He led the way to his backyard, which was much larger than hers. There was a small grove of oak trees at the rear of the property and beyond that a high fence. Apparently the fort was situated between the trees and the fence. A few minutes later, in the most remote corner of the yard, nestled between two trees, Robin spied the small wooden structure, which blended into the terrain. If Robin hadn’t been looking for the hideaway, she’d never have seen it.

It was obvious when they neared the space that someone had taken up residence. Cole lowered himself on to all fours, peered inside, then looked back at Robin with a nod. He breathed in sharply, apparently irritated by this turn of events, and agilely crawled through the narrow entrance.

Not about to be left standing by herself, Robin got down on her knees and followed him in.

Just as she’d suspected, Jeff and Blackie were huddled together in a corner. Jeff was sound asleep and Blackie was curled up at his side, guarding him. When Cole and Robin entered, the Labrador lifted his head and wagged his tail in greeting.

The fort wasn’t much bigger than the tent Jeff had constructed the night before, and Robin was forced to pull her knees close and loop her arms around them. Cole’s larger body seemed to fill every available bit of space.

Jeff must have sensed that his newfound home had been invaded because his eyes fluttered open and he gazed at Robin, then twisted his head to stare at Cole.

“Hi, Mom,” he said sheepishly. “I bet I’m in trouble, aren’t I?”

Robin was so grateful to find him that all she could do was nod. If she’d tried to speak, her voice would have wobbled and heaved with emotion, which would only have embarrassed them both.

“So, Jeff,” Cole said sternly. “You were going to run away from home. I see you brought everything you needed with you.” He pushed the frying pan and atlas into the middle of their cramped quarters. “What I want to know is how you convinced Blackie to join you.”

“He came all on his own. He just sort of followed me,” Jeff murmured, but his eyes avoided Cole’s. “I wouldn’t have taken him on purpose—he’s your dog.”

“I’m glad you didn’t…coerce him.”

“All you took was a frying pan and an atlas!” Robin cried, staring at the cast-iron skillet and the atlas with its dog-eared pages.

Cole and Jeff both ignored her outburst.

“I take it you don’t like living around here?” Cole asked.

Jeff stiffened, then vigorously shook his head. “Mom told me when we moved I could have a dog and now I can’t, and worse than that she dragged me into a neighbourhood filled with girls. That would have been all right if I had a dog, but then she broke her promise. A promise is a promise and it’s sacred. A guy would never do that.”

“So you can’t have the dog until later?”

“And all because of a stupid fence.”

Cole nodded. “Fences are important, you know. You know what else? Your mom was worried about you.”

Jeff looked at Robin, who was blinking furiously to keep the tears from dripping down her face. The upheaval and stress of the move had drained her emotionally and she was an unmitigated mess. Normally, she was a calm, controlled person, but this whole thing with Jeff was her undoing. That and the fact she’d hardly slept the night before in the makeshift tent.

“Mom,” Jeff said, studying her anxiously, “are you all right?”

She covered her face with both hands. “I slept with a dog and you ran away and all you took was a frying pan and an atlas.” That made no sense whatsoever. Robin felt as if she’d been run over by a steamroller, and once the tears started they wouldn’t stop. Her shoulders shook jerkily.

“I’m sorry, Mom,” Jeff said softly. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“I know,” she whimpered. “I want you to have a dog, I really do, but we can’t keep one locked up in a house all day and we don’t have a fence and…and you looked at me and I swear it was Lonny all over again.”

“Who’s Lonny?” Cole cocked his head toward Jeff, speaking in a whisper.

“Lonny was my dad. He died when I was real little. I don’t even remember him.”

Cole shared a knowing look with her son. “It might be a good idea if we got your mother inside the house.”

“You think I’m getting hysterical, don’t you?” Robin cried. “I want you both to know I’m in perfect control. A woman can cry every now and again if she wants. Venting your emotions is healthy—all those books say so.”

“Right, Mom.” Jeff gently patted her shoulder, then crawled out of the fort. He waited for Robin, who emerged after him, and offered her a hand. Cole and Blackie followed.

Jeff took Robin’s arm, cupping her elbow as he led her toward the back door of their house, as if he suspected she couldn’t find her way without his guidance.

Once inside, Robin reached for a tissue and loudly blew her nose. Her composure was shaky, but when she turned to Cole, she intended to be as reasonable as a judge. As polite as a preacher.

“Have you got any aspirin?” Cole asked Jeff.

Jeff nodded, and dashed up the stairs to the bathroom, returning in thirty seconds flat with the bottle. Cole filled a glass with water and delivered both to Robin. How he knew she had a fierce headache she could only guess.

“Why don’t you lie down for a couple of minutes? I’m sure you’ll feel better.”

“I feel just fine, thank you,” she snapped, more angry with herself for over-reacting than with him for taking charge.

“Do you have family close by?” Again Cole directed the question to Jeff, which only served to further infuriate Robin. Jeff was ten years old! She, on the other hand, was the adult. If this man had questions they should be directed to her, not her son.

“Not any more,” Jeff answered in an anxious whisper. “Grandma and Grandpa moved to Arizona last year, and my uncle lives in L.A.”

“I don’t need to lie down,” Robin said forcefully. “I’m perfectly fine.”

“Mom,” Jeff countered, his voice troubled, “you don’t look so good.”

“You were talking about frying pans and sleeping with dogs in the same breath,” Cole elaborated, his eyebrows raised.

“I think Mr Camden’s right,” Jeff concurred. “You need rest—lots of rest.”

Her own son had turned traitor on her. Robin couldn’t believe it. Jeff took her hand gently and led her into the family room, which was directly off the kitchen. He patted the quilted pillow on the sofa, wordlessly suggesting she place her head there. When she resisted, he pulled the rug from the chair and draped it around her, securely tucking the ends behind her shoulders, as though she were in imminent danger of freezing to death.

Robin couldn’t believe she was allowing herself to be led around like a…like a puppy. As if reading her thoughts, Blackie wandered over to her side and lowered his bulk on to the carpet beside the sofa.

“That’s a neat fort you’ve got there,” Jeff told Cole once he’d finished tucking in the blanket. Robin watched him hurry back to the kitchen, grab a plate, then load it with macaroni cheese and hand it to Cole, apparently wanting to share his favourite meal with their neighbor.

Cole set the plate on the counter. “Thanks anyway, Jeff, but I’ve got to get back to the house. In the future, if you’re thinking about running away—don’t.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Jeff said with a mildly guilty look. “My mom turned into a basket case.”

Cole smiled—at least, it was as close to a smile as Robin had seen. “You’re both going to be all right. She intends to get you that dog, you know. Just hang on, it’ll be sooner than you think.”

Jeff walked to the sliding glass door with Cole. “Mr Camden, can I ask you something important?”

“Sure.” He stood just inside the house.

“Is anyone using the fort?”

“Not that I know of.”

Jeff looked hopeful. “It didn’t look like anyone had been inside for a long time.”

“Six years,” Cole murmured absently.

“That long? How come?” Jeff asked. “It’s a great fort. If it’s all right with you I’d like to go over there sometimes. I promise not to walk in any flower beds or anything, and I won’t leave a mess. I’ll take real good care of everything.”

Cole hesitated only for a moment. He looked at Jeff, and Robin held her breath as his expression softened. Then he shook his head. “Maybe sometime in the future, but not now.”

Jeff’s deep blue eyes brightened; apparently the refusal didn’t trouble him. “That’s great. When I can use the fort, would it be all right if I took Blackie with me? He followed me today, you know. I didn’t have to do anything to get him to tag along.” Jeff paused and lowered his eyes. “Well, hardly anything.”

“I thought as much. As your mom said, you have a way with animals.”

“My dad did, too. If he hadn’t died he would have gotten me a pony and everything.”

There was such pride in Jeff’s voice that Robin bit her bottom lip to keep from crying all over again. Jeff and Lonny were so much alike. What she’d said to her son earlier had been true. More and more, Jeff was starting to take on his father’s looks and personality.

Cole hesitated, gazing down at Jeff. An emotion flashed in his eyes, so transient Robin couldn’t name it. He laid his hand on Jeff’s thin shoulder. “Since your mother explained there’s going to be a delay in getting you a dog, it’d be all right to borrow Blackie every now and then. As long as you stay in your own yard. I don’t want him running in the neighbourhood unless he’s on a leash.”

“Do you really mean it? Gee, thanks, Mr Camden. I’ll do everything you ask.”

Robin had the feeling Jeff would have agreed to just about any terms as long as he could see Blackie. It wasn’t a dog of his own, but it was as close as he was going to get for the next few months.

Once Cole had left, Jeff joined her on the sofa, his hands folded together on his lap. “I’m sorry, Mom,” he muttered, his chin buried in his chest. “I promise I’ll never run away again.”

“I should hope not,” she said. Wrapping her arms around him, she hugged him close, kissing his cheek.

“Gee whiz,” Jeff grumbled, rubbing his face. “I’d never have apologised if I’d known you were going to kiss me.”

* * *

A WEEK PASSED. Jeff liked his new school and, as Robin had predicted, he found his class contained an equal number of boys and girls. With his outgoing personality, he quickly collected a handful of new friends.

On Sunday afternoon, Robin was in the family room reading the newspaper when Jeff ambled in and sat down across the room from her. He took the baseball cap from his head and studied it for several moments.

“Something bothering you?” she asked, lowering the paper to get a better view of her son.

He shrugged. “Did you know Mr Camden used to be married?”

“I heard something along those lines,” Robin said absently. But other than Heather’s remarks the previous week, she hadn’t learned anything else. In fact, she’d spoken to her neighbour only when she went to pick Jeff up every afternoon. The child-care arrangement with Heather was working beautifully, but there had been little opportunity to chat.

As for Cole, Robin hadn’t seen him at all. Since he’d been so kind and helpful in the situation with Jeff, Robin had revised her opinion of him. He liked his privacy and that was fine by her; she had no intention of interrupting his serene existence. The memory of their first meeting still rankled, but she was willing to overlook that shaky beginning.

“Mr Camden had a son who died.”

Robin’s heart constricted. It made sense: the flash of pain she’d seen when Jeff had asked him about children, the word on the street that Cole didn’t like kids, the abandoned fort. “I…How did you find that out?”

“Jimmy Wallach. He lives two streets over and has an older brother who used to play with Bobby Camden. Jimmy told me about him.”

“I didn’t know,” Robin murmured, saddened by the information. She couldn’t imagine her life without Jeff—the mere thought of losing him was enough to tear her apart.

“Mrs Wallach heard Jimmy talking about Bobby Camden and she said that Mr. Camden got divorced and it was real bad, and then a year or so later Bobby died. She said he’s never been the same since. Like someone else took over his mind and body.”

Robin ached for Cole, and she regretted all the uncharitable thoughts she’d had that first morning.

“I feel sad,” Jeff whispered, frowning. His young face was as intent as she’d ever seen it.

“I do, too,” Robin returned softly.

“Mrs Wallach seemed real surprised when I told her Mr Camden said I could play in Bobby’s fort some day. Ever since his son died, he hasn’t let any kids in the yard or anything. She said he hardly talks to anyone in the neighbourhood anymore.”

Heather Lawrence had said basically the same thing, but not the reason for it. Probably because she didn’t know.

“Are you still going to barbecue hamburgers tonight for dinner?”

Robin nodded, surprised by the abrupt way Jeff had changed the subject. “If you want.” Next to macaroni cheese, grilled burgers were Jeff’s all-time favourite food.

“Would it be all right if I invited Mr Camden over to eat with us?”

Robin hated to refuse her son, but she wasn’t sure a dinner invitation was a good idea. She didn’t know Cole very well, but from what she’d learned he wasn’t one to socialise with the neighbours. In addition, Jeff might blurt out questions about Cole’s dead son that would be terribly painful for him.

“Mom,” Jeff pleaded, “I bet no one ever invites him to dinner and he’s all alone.”

“Sweetheart, I don’t know if that would be the right thing to do.”

“But we owe him, Mom,” Jeff implored. “He let me throw sticks for Blackie twice this week.”

“I don’t think Mr Camden’s home,” Robin said, picking up the newspaper while she weighed the pros and cons of Jeff’s suggestion. Since last Sunday, Robin hadn’t spoken to Cole once, and she wasn’t eager to initiate a conversation. He might read something into it.

“I’ll go check and see if he’s home.” Before she could react, Jeff was out the front door, letting the screen door slam in his wake.

He returned a couple of minutes later breathless and excited. “Mr Camden’s home and he said he appreciated the invitation, but he had other plans for tonight.”

“That’s too bad,” Robin murmured, hoping she sounded sincere.

“I told him we were having strawberry shortcake for dessert and he said that was his favourite.”

Robin hated to admit it, but she was relieved Cole wouldn’t be showing up for dinner. The man made her feel nervous and uncertain. She didn’t know why that should be, only that it was a new and unfamiliar sensation.

“Thanks, Mom.”

Robin jerked her head up from the newspaper. “Thanks for what?” She hadn’t read a word in five minutes. Her thoughts had been dominated by her neighbour.

Jeff rolled his eyes. “For letting me take a piece of strawberry shortcake over to Mr Camden.”

“I said you could do that?”

“Just now.” He walked over to her and playfully tested her forehead with the back of his hand. “You don’t feel hot, but then, with brain fever you never know.”

Robin swatted playfully at her son’s backside.

Laughing, Jeff raced outdoors, where his bicycle was waiting. A half-hour later, he was back in the house. “Mom! Mom!” he cried, racing into the kitchen. “Did you know Mr Camden owns a black Porsche?”

“I can’t say I did.” She was more interested in peeling potatoes for the salad than discussing fancy cars. She didn’t know enough about sports cars to get excited about them.

Jeff jerked open the bottom drawer and rooted through the rag bag until he found what he was looking for. He pulled out a large square that had once been part of his flannel pyjamas, then started back outside. “He has another car too, a big four-wheel drive.”

“Just where are you going, young man?” Robin demanded.

“Mr Camden’s waxing his car and I thought I’d go help him.”

“Did he ask for your help?”

“No,” Jeff said impatiently.

“He may not want you to.”

“Mom!” Jeff rolled his eyes as if to suggest she was overdoing this mothering thing. “Can I go now?”

“Ah…I suppose,” she agreed, but her heart was in her throat. She moved into the living-room and watched as Jeff strolled across the lawn to the driveway where Cole was busy rubbing liquid wax on the gleaming surface of his Porsche. Without a word, Jeff started polishing the dried wax with his rag. Cole straightened and stopped smearing on the wax, obviously surprised to see Jeff. Robin bit her lower lip, not knowing how her neighbour would react to Jeff’s willingness to help. Apparently he said something, because Jeff nodded, then walked over and sat cross-legged on the lawn. They didn’t seem to be carrying on a conversation and Robin couldn’t help wondering what Cole had said to her son.

Robin returned to the kitchen, grateful that Cole’s rejection had apparently been gentle. At least he hadn’t sent Jeff away. She peeled another potato, then walked back into the living-room and glanced out the window again. This time she discovered Jeff standing next to Cole, who was, it seemed, demonstrating the right way to polish a car. He made wide circular motions with his arms, then stepped aside to let Jeff tackle the Porsche again. Cole nodded and smiled, then patted him on the head before walking around to the other side of the car.

Once the salad was ready, Robin decided to venture outside.

Jeff paused and waved enthusiastically when he caught sight of her on the porch. “Isn’t she a beaut?” he yelled.

It looked like an ordinary car to Robin, but she nodded enthusiastically. “Wonderful,” she answered. “Afternoon, Cole.”

“Robin.” He returned her greeting absently.

He wore a sleeveless grey sweatshirt and she was surprised by how muscular and tanned his arms were. From her conversation with Heather Lawrence, Robin had learned Cole was a prominent attorney. And he’d seemed to fit the lawyer image to a T. Not any more. The lawyer was gone and the man was there, bold as could be. Her awareness of him as an attractive virile male was shockingly intense.

The problem, she decided, lay in the fact that she hadn’t expected Cole to look so…fit. The sight of all that lean muscle came as a pleasant surprise. Cole’s aggressive unfriendly expression had been softened as he bantered teasingly with Jeff.

Blackie ambled to her side and Robin leaned over to scratch the dog’s ears while she continued to study his master. Cole’s hair was dark and grew away from his brow, but a single lock flopped stubbornly over his forehead and he had to toss it back from his face every once in a while. It was funny how she’d never noticed that about him until now.

Jeff must have said something humorous because Cole threw back his head and chuckled loudly. It was the first time she’d ever heard him laugh. She suspected he didn’t often give in to the impulse. A smile crowded Robin’s face as Jeff started laughing, too.

In that moment the oddest thing happened. Robin felt something catch in her heart. The tug was almost physical, and she experienced a completely unfamiliar feeling of vulnerability….

“Do you need me to roll out the barbecue for you?” Jeff shouted when he noticed she was still on the porch. He’d turned his baseball cap around so that the bill faced backward. While he spoke, his arm continued to work feverishly, buffing the passenger door with his rag.

“Not…yet.”

“Good, ’cause Mr. Camden needs me to finish up this side for him. We’re on a tight schedule here, and I don’t really have time. Cole’s got a dinner date at five-thirty.”

“I see.” Standing on the porch, dressed in her old faded jeans, with a mustard-spotted terry-cloth hand towel tucked in the waistband, Robin felt as appealing as Ma Kettle. “Any time you’re finished is fine.”

So Cole Camden’s got a date, Robin mused. Of course he’s got a date, she told herself. Why should she care? And if watching Jeff and Cole together was going to affect her like this, it would be best to go back into the house now.

Over dinner, all Jeff could talk about was Cole Camden. Every other sentence was Cole this and Cole that, until Robin was ready to slam her fist on the table and demand Jeff never mention their neighbour’s name again.

“And the best part is, he paid me for helping him wax his car for him,” Jeff continued, then stuffed the hamburger into his mouth, chewing a mile a minute in his enthusiasm.

“That was more than generous of him.”

Jeff nodded enthusiastically. “Be sure and save some shortcake for him. He said not to bring it over ’cause he didn’t know exactly when he’d get home. He’ll stop by,” he said.

“I will.” Robin sincerely doubted her neighbour would. Jeff seemed to be under the impression Cole would show up at any time; Robin knew better. If Cole had a dinner date, he wasn’t going to rush back just to taste her home-made dessert, though she did have to admit she made an excellent shortcake.

As she suspected, Cole didn’t come by. Jeff grumbled about it the next morning. He was convinced Cole would have if Robin hadn’t insisted Jeff go to bed at his regular time.

“I’ll make shortcake again soon,” Robin promised, hurrying to pack their lunches. “When I do, you can take a piece over to him.”

“All right,” Jeff muttered.

That evening, when Robin returned home from work, she found Jeff playing with Blackie in Cole’s backyard.

“Jeff,” she cried, alarmed that Cole might discover her son on his property. He’d made it clear Jeff wasn’t to go into his yard. “What are you doing at Mr. Camden’s? And why aren’t you at Heather’s?” She walked over to the hedge and placed her hands on her hips, frustrated with her ten-year-old.

“Blackie’s chain got all tangled up,” Jeff explained, looking sheepish. “He needed my help. I told Heather it would be OK with you and…” His voice trailed off.

“He’s untangled now,” Robin pointed out.

“I know, but since I was here it seemed like a good time for the two of us to—”

“Play,” Robin completed for him.

“Yeah,” her son said, nodding eagerly. Jeff was well aware he’d done wrong, but had difficulty admitting it.

“Mr Camden doesn’t want you in his yard, and we both know it.” Standing next to the thick laurel hedge, Robin watched with dismay as Cole opened his back door and stepped outside. Blackie barked in greeting, and his tail swung with enough force to knock Jeff off balance.

When Cole noticed Jeff in his yard, he frowned and cast an accusing glare in Robin’s direction.

“Jeff said Blackie’s chain was tangled,” she rushed to explain.

“How’d you get over here?” Cole asked her son, and although he didn’t raise his voice it was clear he was displeased. “The gate’s locked and the hedge is too high to leap over.”

Jeff stared down at the lawn. “I came through the gap in the hedge—the same one Blackie uses. I crawled through it.”

“Was his chain really tangled?”

“No, sir,” Jeff said in a voice so low that Robin had to strain to hear him. “At least not much. He could have straightened it out himself…. I just thought, you know, that maybe he’d like the company.”

“I see.”

“He was all alone and so was I.” Jeff lifted his eyes defiantly to his mother’s, as if to suggest the fault was entirely hers. “I go to Mrs. Lawrence’s after school, but it’s all girls there, and I’d rather be shot than play with dolls.”

“Don’t you remember what I said about your coming into my yard?” Cole asked him.

Jeff nod was sluggish. “Yes. You said maybe I could sometime, but not now. I thought…I hoped that since you let me help you wax your car you wouldn’t mind so much.”

“I mind,” Cole said flatly.

“He won’t do it again,” Robin promised, “will you, Jeff?”

“No,” he murmured. “I’m sorry, Mr Camden.”

For an entire week Jeff kept his word. The following Monday, however, when Robin returned from the BART station, Heather explained that Jeff had mysteriously disappeared about a half hour earlier. She assumed he’d gone home; he’d said something about expecting a call.

Unfortunately, Robin knew exactly where to look for him, and it wasn’t at home. Even more unfortunate was the fact that Cole’s car pulled into the driveway just as she was opening her door. Throwing aside her briefcase and bag, she rushed through the house, jerked open the sliding glass door at the back and raced across her yard.

Her son was nowhere to be seen, but she immediately realised he’d been with Blackie. The dog wasn’t in evidence, and she could see Jeff’s favorite baseball cap on the lawn.

“Jeff,” she called, afraid to raise her voice. She sounded as though she was suffering from a bad case of laryngitis.

Neither boy nor dog appeared.

She tried again, taking the risk of shouting for Jeff in a normal tone, praying it wouldn’t attract Cole’s attention. No response. Since Jeff and Blackie didn’t seem to be within earshot, she guessed they were in the fort. There was no help for it; she’d have to go after him herself. Her only hope was that she could hurry over to the fort, get Jeff and return to her own yard, all without being detected by Cole.

Finding the hole in the laurel proved difficult enough. The space was little more than a narrow gap between two thick plants, and for a distressing moment, Robin doubted she was slim enough to squeeze through. Finally, she lowered herself to the ground, hunched her shoulders and managed to push her way between the shrubs. Her head had just emerged when she noticed a pair of polished men’s shoes on the other side. Slowly, reluctantly, she glanced up to find Cole towering above her, eyes narrowed with suspicion.

“Oh, hi,” she said, striving to sound as though it was perfectly normal for her to be crawling into his yard on her hands and knees. “I suppose you’re wondering exactly what I’m doing here….”

“The question did cross my mind.”