"I didn't realize you knew Fran Thayer," he said as they passed the charcoal pit.

"Is that her last name? She didn't tell me."

"What's going on?"

She explained.

"It wouldn't hurt you to go see her granddaughter," he said when she was done.

"It would be unconscionable. I'm not a hypocrite."

For a moment she thought he would argue with her, but he didn't. Instead, he gestured toward one of the tents. "It seems to me we were over there when you got bumped. Let me ask around."

He returned a few minutes later, and even before he spoke, she knew the news wasn't good. "Maybe somebody will turn it in to the police later," he said to console her.

She forced a smile they both knew was false. "Maybe."

He brushed his knuckles gently down the side of her jaw. "Let's go on back to the cottage. I think we've all had enough for today."

She nodded, and the three of them set off.

As they moved away, Russ Scudder stepped out from behind the lemonade concession. He waited until they had disappeared then pulled Rachel's wallet from inside the empty popcorn box he'd been carrying around and removed the money.

Forty-three dollars. Too bad there wasn't more. He stared at the wrinkled bills, tossed the wallet into the nearest trash can, then wandered toward the table the Humane Society had set up.

Earlier, Carl Painter had been asking people for donations, but Russ ignored the container decorated with a picture of a sad-eyed dog. Instead, he slipped the forty-three dollars into the plastic cylinder that sat next to it, the one marked Emily's Fund.

16

That night, Rachel read Edward Stellaluna for the hundredth time. The beautifully illustrated story dealt with a baby bat separated from his mother and raised by birds with sleeping and eating habits different from his own. When she was done with the book, Edward took Horse's ear out of his mouth and looked up at her, his too-old eyes worried. " Stellaluna's mommy got in a accident, and then they didn't see each other for a long time."

"But they found each other at the end."

"I guess."

She knew her answer hadn't satisfied him. He had no father, no house, no extended family. He was just beginning to realize she was his only stability.

After she'd tucked him in, she went out to the kitchen and saw Gabe standing by the back door. He turned when he heard her, and she watched as his hand slid into his pocket. He withdrew several bills and gave them to her.

She counted out fifty dollars. "What's this?"

"A bonus. You've done a lot of work that isn't in your job description. It's only fair."

He was making up for the money that had been stolen from her purse and trying to save her pride at the same time. She looked down at the crisp bills and blinked. "Thanks," she managed.

"I'm going outside for a while. I'll be back soon."

He didn't invite her to go with him, and she didn't ask. Moments like this reminded her of how much there was that separated them.

Later, as she was just starting to get ready for bed, she heard him return. She finished undressing, then slipped into his old work shirt. After she'd washed her face and brushed her teeth, she went out to the kitchen where she found him crouched by a cardboard box sitting near the stove.

She walked over to investigate and saw that the box held a heating pad and a green plastic strawberry container lined with tissue. Inside lay a bedraggled baby sparrow.

On Tuesday, with the drive-in opening only three days away, Rachel was beginning to think they'd never be ready on time. She was excited about showing off the Pride of Carolina to the community. Having fireworks on opening night had been her idea, and she was making Gabe put up a row of colorful plastic flags near the entrance.

Unfortunately, Gabe didn't share her enthusiasm, and his lack of interest grew more apparent every day. At the same time, her affection for the old place grew. Looking at the fresh paint, sparkling new appliances, and weed-free lot gave her a feeling of accomplishment.

At three that afternoon, the snack-shop phone rang. She dropped the cloth she'd been using to wipe down the new popcorn machine and raced to answer it.

"I've got the Bible," Kristy said. "Carol's son just delivered it."

Rachel gave a sigh of relief. "I can't believe I'm finally going to have it. I'll pick it up tonight."

They chatted for a few minutes, and, as she hung up, Gabe walked in. She dashed around the end of the counter. "Kristy has the Bible!"

"Don't pin all your hopes on this."

She looked up into his unsmiling silver eyes and couldn't resist touching his cheek. "You worry too much, dude."

He smiled then, but only for a moment. She could tell he was getting ready to launch into another lecture, so she changed the subject. "How are things going with Tom?"

"He seems to know what he's doing."

Tom Bennett was the projectionist Gabe had hired. After the grand opening, Gabe planned to keep the drive-in open four nights a week. Tom lived in Brevard and would be commuting. Gabe was going to operate the ticket booth and work with Rachel in the snack shop during intermissions, along with a young woman named Kayla he'd hired to help out.

For some time Rachel had been puzzling over what to do with Edward when she had to start working at night, but in the end, her decision had been simple. She couldn't afford a sitter to stay with him very often, so most of the time he would have to come with her. She'd make a bed for him in Gabe's office next to the projection room and hope he'd fall sleep.

Gabe regarded her sternly. "Did you eat lunch today?"

"Every bite." As she gazed at his cranky, disagreeable expression, her mouth curled in a goofy smile. It had been a long time since anyone had looked out for her. Dwayne certainly hadn't, and by the time Rachel had entered her mid-teens, her grandmother's health had deteriorated to the point where Rachel had become her caretaker. But this grouchy, wounded man who only wanted to be left alone had appointed himself her guardian angel.

Her feelings were too much for her, and she walked back to the counter. "How's Tweety Bird doing?"

"Still alive."

"Good." He'd brought the baby sparrow to the drive-in with him so he could keep up with its frequent feedings. Earlier, she'd gone up to his office to ask him a question and seen his big frame bent over the box as he fed the small creature from the slanted tip of a straw." Where did you say you found it?"

"Near the back porch. Usually you can locate the nest and put them back-it's an old wives' tale that birds are rejected by their mothers if they have a human scent on them. But I couldn't find a nest anywhere."

His expression grew even more irritable, as if the baby bird's continued survival displeased him, but she knew differently, and her smile widened.

"What are you so happy about?" he growled.

"I'm happy about you, Bonner." She couldn't resist touching him again, and she abandoned the rag she'd just picked up to go to him. He drew her closer. She laid her head against his chest and listened to the steady thump of his heart.

His thumbs rubbed her back through the soft cotton dress, and she felt his arousal pressed against her. "Let's get out of here, sweetheart, and go back to the cottage."

"We have too much to do. Besides, we just made love last night, or have you forgotten?"

"Yep. It's completely slipped my mind. You're going to have to remind me."

"I'll remind you tonight."

He smiled, but only for a moment before he dropped his head and kissed her.

This was no fleeting touch, but a full melding of their mouths that quickly grew hungry and demanding. His lips parted, and then her own. She felt his fingers tunneling through her hair. His tongue came into her mouth, and she reveled in the wildly erotic sensation of two people out of control.

The kiss deepened. He reached under her dress, pulled at her panties. She grabbed for the snap on his jeans.

There was a loud thump on the ceiling. They sprang back like guilty children, then realized Tom had merely dropped something in the projection room.

She grabbed the edge of the counter.

He took a long, unsteady breath. "I forgot we weren't alone."

Her delight bubbled to the surface. "You sure did. You got totally carried away by lust, Bonner. Totally."

"I'm not the only one. And it's not funny. Having somebody walk in on the two of us is the last thing your reputation needs right now. It's bad enough that I'm living at the cottage with Kristy gone."

"Yeah-yeah." She regarded him mischievously. "That tongue thing… You did it on Saturday night, too. I like it."

He rolled his eyes, exasperated, but also amused.

"Do you know the last person I did anything like that with?"

"Not G. Dwayne I'll bet." He moved over to the coffeemaker, as if he didn't trust himself to stand so close to her. She saw the distinct bulge at the front of his jeans and felt a rush of womanly satisfaction.

"Are you kidding? He was a dry pecker."

"A what?"

"He used to give me these dry little pecking kisses that never quite made it to my mouth. No, the last time I kissed like that was my junior year in high school with Jeffrey Dillard in the Sunday-school storage closet. We'd both been eating Jolly Ranchers, so it was sweet in more ways than one."

"You haven't done any tongue kissing since your junior year of high school?"

"Pathetic, isn't it? I was afraid if I did I'd go to hell, which is one of the good things about the last few years of my life."

"How's that?"