"I don't worry about hell anymore. I've sort of developed a 'been there, done that' attitude."

"Rach…"

He looked so distressed she wanted to bite her tongue. Irreverence might help stave off her fear, but it upset him. "Lame joke, Bonner. Hey, you'd better get back to work before the boss catches you loafing. He's a real tightwad, and, if you're not careful, he'll dock your pay. Personally, I'm scared to death of him."

"Is that so?"

"The man has no pity, not to mention being stingy. Luckily, I'm smarter than he is, so I've figured a way to get a promotion."

"How's that?" He took a sip of coffee.

"I'm going to strip him naked and then lick him all over."

His lengthy coughing fit left her with a sense of satisfaction that carried her through the rest of the afternoon.

Edward crouched on his haunches, the heels of his hands braced on his knees, and gazed into the cardboard box. "It's not dead yet."

The kid's pessimistic attitude annoyed Gabe, but he tried not to show it. He returned the mixture of ground beef, egg yolk, and baby cereal he'd been using to feed the sparrow to the refrigerator. Edward had been hanging around the box all evening to watch, but he finally stood, pushed his rabbit headfirst into the elastic waistband of his shorts, and wandered into the living room.

Gabe stuck his head through the doorway. "Leave your mother alone for a while longer, okay?"

"I want to see her."

"Later."

The boy pulled the stuffed rabbit from his shorts, tucked it against his chest, and regarded Gabe resentfully.

Rachel had been holed up in her bedroom with G. Dwayne's Bible ever since Kristy had brought it over. If she'd found anything, the door would have blown open, but since it hadn't, he knew she was facing another disappointment. The least he could do was keep the boy occupied while she dealt with it.

Now he watched as the five-year-old ignored his instructions and tried to sidle inconspicuously toward the back hallway.

"I asked you to leave your mother alone."

"She said she'd read Stellaluna to me."

Gabe knew what he should do. He should get the book and read the story to the boy himself, but he couldn't do that. He simply could not let the child sit next to him while he read him that particular book.

One more time, Daddy. Read Stellaluna one more time. Please.

"The book's about a bat, right?"

Edward nodded. "A good bat. Not a scary bat."

"Let's go outside and see if we can spot one."

"A real bat?"

"Sure." Gabe led the way to the back door and held the screen open. "They should be out by now. They feed at night."

"That's all right. I got stuff to do here."

"Outside, Edward. Now."

The boy ducked reluctantly under his arm. "My name's Chip. You shouldn't come out here. You should stay with Tweety Bird so he don't die."

Gabe swallowed his impatience and followed the boy outside. "I've been taking care of birds since I was only a little older than you, so I guess I know what I'm doing." He recoiled from the harsh sound of his words and took a deep breath, trying to make amends. "When my brothers and I were boys, we'd find baby birds that had fallen out of their nests all the time. We didn't know then that you were supposed to put them back in, so we took them home. Sometimes they'd die, but sometimes we could save them."

As he remembered it, he was the one who'd done all of the saving. Cal's intentions were pure, but he'd get wrapped up shooting baskets or playing softball and forget to feed the bird. And Ethan had been too young for the responsibility.

"You told Mommy Pastor Ethan is your brother."

Gabe didn't miss the accusing note in Edward's voice, but he didn't let himself rise to it. "That's right."

"You don't look the same."

"He looks like our mother. My brother Cal and I look like our father."

"You don't act the same."

"People are different, even brothers." He picked up one of the tubular lawn chairs that leaned against the back of the cottage and unfolded it.

Edward dug the heel of his sneaker into the soft earth while he let the rabbit dangle at his side. "My brother's like me."

Gabe looked over at him. "Your brother?"

Edward's forehead puckered as he concentrated on his sneaker. "He's real strong, and he can beat up about a million people. His name is… Strongman. He never gets sick, and he always calls me Chip, not that other name."

"I think you're hurting your mother's feelings when you tell people not to call you Edward," he said quietly.

The boy didn't like that, and Gabe watched the play of emotions cross his face: unhappiness, doubt, stubbornness. "She's allowed to call me that. You're not."

Gabe picked up the other lawn chair and unfolded it. "Keep watching just above that ridge. There's a cave up there where a lot of bats live. You might be able to see some of them."

Edward tucked the rabbit next to him as he sat in the other chair. His feet didn't touch the ground, and his thin legs stuck out stiffly in front of him. Gabe felt the boy's tension, and it bothered him to be regarded as some sort of monster.

A few minutes ticked by. Jamie, with a five-year-old's impatience, would have jumped out of the chair after thirty seconds, but Rachel's son sat quietly, too afraid of Gabe to rebel. Gabe hated that fear, even though he couldn't seem to do anything about it.

The fireflies came out, and the last of the evening breeze died down. The boy didn't move. Gabe tried to think of something to say, but it was the boy who finally spoke.

"I think that's a bat."

"No. It's a hawk."

The boy drew the rabbit into his lap and poked at a tiny hole in the seam with his index finger. "My mommy'll get mad if I stay out here too long."

"Watch the trees."

He stuffed the rabbit under his T-shirt and leaned back in the chair. It squeaked. He leaned forward and then back, making it squeak again. And again.

"Be quiet, Edward."

"I'm not Ed-"

"Chip, damn it!"

The boy crossed his arms over his lumpy chest.

Gabe sighed. "I'm sorry."

"I have to pee real bad."

Gabe gave up. "All right."

The lawn chair tilted as the boy jumped from it.

Just then, Rachel's voice drifted out of the back door. "Bedtime, Edward."

Gabe turned to see her standing inside the screen silhouetted against the kitchen light. She looked slim and beautiful, at once entirely herself, but at the same time, any one of a million mothers calling a child inside on that warm July night.

His mind shifted to Cherry, and he waited for the pain to hit him, but what he felt instead was melancholy. Maybe, if he didn't let himself think about Jamie, he might be able to live after all.

Edward ran for the back porch, and as soon as he reached his mother's side, he grabbed her skirt. "You told me not to say curses, didn't you, Mommy?"

"That's right. Curses are rude."

He glared at Gabe. "He said one. He said a curse."

Gabe regarded him with annoyance. The little tattletale.

Rachel herded the child inside without comment.

Gabe fed the baby sparrow again, doing his best not to touch him too much as he dispensed tiny dollops of food. Too much hand-feeding would accustom the bird to human contact and turn it into a pet, making it more difficult to release the creature back to the wild.

He wanted to be certain she'd had enough time to put the boy to bed, so he cleaned up the bird's nest by lining it with fresh tissue before he went into the living room. Through the front screen, he saw her sitting on the porch step with her arms propped on top of her bent knees. He stepped outside.

Rachel heard the screen door open behind her. The porch vibrated beneath her hips as he walked toward her. He lowered himself onto the step.

"You didn't find anything in the Bible, did you?"

She still hadn't managed to swallow her disappointment. "No. But a lot of text is underlined and there are marginal notes everywhere. I'm going through it page by page. I'm sure I'll find a clue somewhere."

"Nothing's easy for you, is it, Rach?"

She was tired and frustrated, and the energy that had carried her through the afternoon had vanished. There had been something deeply disturbing about reading those old, familiar verses again. She could sense them pulling at her, trying to draw her back toward something she could no longer accept.

Her eyes began to sting, but she fought against it. "Don't get sentimental on me, Bonner. I can handle just about anything but that."

He slipped his arm behind her and cupped her shoulder. "All right, sweetheart. I'll smack you around instead."

Sweetheart. He'd called her that twice today. Was she really his sweetheart?

She leaned against his shoulder and accepted the truth. She had fallen in love with him. She wanted to deny it, but it was no use.

What she felt was so different from her love for Dwayne. That had been an unhealthy combination of hero worship and a young girl looking for a father. This was a mature love, with her eyes wide open. She saw both Gabe's flaws and her own. And she also saw how destructive it would be to let herself fantasize about a future with a man who was still in love with his dead wife. Even more painful, a man who disliked her child.

The animosity between Gabe and Edward seemed to be getting worse, and she couldn't think of a way to make it better. She couldn't order Gabe to change his attitude or make him care about Edward.

She felt tired and defeated. He was right. Nothing ever came easy for her. "Try not to curse in front of Edward, will you?"

"It slipped out." He gazed at the dark line of trees that marked the edge of the front yard. "You know, Rachel, he's a good kid and everything, but maybe you need to toughen him up a little."