"Cal!" Gabe dropped the carton of buns he'd been carrying and shot out from behind the counter to greet the man who looked so very much like him. As the two slapped each other on the back, Rachel studied Cal Bonner and wonder what combination of genes had landed three lady-killers in the same family.

Unlike Ethan, Cal and Gabe's dark coloring and rough-hewed good looks clearly identified them as brothers. Gabe's hair was longer, his silvery-gray eyes lighter than Cal's, but both men were tall, lean, and muscular. Although she knew the ex-quarterback was the elder brother by almost two years, he looked younger. Maybe it was the general air of contentment he seemed to carry with him like an invisible football.

"You should have let me know you were coming," Gabe said.

"You didn't think I'd miss the grand opening tonight, did you?"

"It's just a drive-in, Cal."

His words stung. It wasn't just a drive-in to her. She wanted this old place to shine tonight.

All day, she'd been busy training Kayla, the young woman Gabe had hired to help out in the snack shop. She'd also been teaching Gabe the rudiments so he could help out during intermission. He caught on quickly, but she knew he was merely going through the motions. He should be healing animals, not serving up fast-food nachos.

"Want some coffee?" Gabe asked his brother. "Or ice cream. I'm getting to be a pro at making cones."

"No, thanks. Rosie started kicking up right after we left Asheville-she hates her car seat worse than poison-and I need to get back to the mausoleum to give Jane a hand."

Rachel didn't have to think hard to figure out what the mausoleum was.

Cal went on, his manner a shade too hearty. "I just stopped by to tell you Jane's decided to have a family brunch for you and Eth tomorrow around eleven to celebrate your new business. Think you can make it?"

"Sure."

"And Gabe, don't tell Jane I mentioned this, but if I were you, I'd eat something first. Knowing my wife, we'll probably be getting wheat-germ muffins and tofu casserole. You should see the garbage she feeds Rosie-no sugar, no preservatives, nothing worth eating. Last week Jane caught me shaking out a few of my Lucky Charms on Rosie's high-chair tray, and she about took my head right off."

Gabe smiled. "I stand warned."

"This place looks terrific." Cal eyed the snack shop as if it were a four-star restaurant. "You sure have done a lot with it."

Rachel could barely conceal her disgust. He was as bad as Ethan. She might love this drive-in, but it was clearly wrong for Gabe. Why couldn't one of his brothers look him in the face and ask him exactly what he thought he was doing with his life?

For the first time, Cal noticed her. His smile faded before it had fully formed, and, even though they'd never met, she knew he'd figured out who she was.

"Rachel, this is my brother Cal. Cal, Rachel Stone."

Cal gave her a brusque nod. "Miz Snopes."

She smiled pleasantly. "Nice to meet you, Hal."

"It's Cal."

"Ah." She continued to smile.

Cal's mouth tightened, and she regretted her flippancy. This was clearly a man who thrived on battle, and she had thrown down the gauntlet.

After the incident with Cal, what was left of the afternoon went steadily downhill. Kayla dropped a huge jar of salsa, splattering it everywhere, one of the men setting up the fireworks display cut his hand badly enough to need stitches, and Gabe withdrew into himself. Later, when Rachel ran into town to pick up Edward, an old Chevy Lumina shot out from a side street and nearly hit her. As she laid on her horn, she glimpsed the hostile face of Bobby Dennis behind the wheel. Once again, she wondered how she could have sparked so much animosity in someone so young.

That night, Edward ran in and out of the snack shop as cars began to trickle into the lot. "I get to stay up as late as I want. Right, Mommy?"

"As late as you want." She smiled as she poured kernels into the popcorn machine. The fireworks display didn't start until dark, and she doubted if he'd stay awake for much of the goofy Jim Carrey crowd-pleaser that was the first feature.

A couple with several young children came through the door, their first customers, and she concentrated on helping Kayla fill the order. Not long after, a rowdy trio of teenagers walked in. One of them was Bobby Dennis.

Rachel was waiting on an elderly man and his wife, so Kayla took care of them, but before they left, Rachel made a point of speaking. "I hope you enjoy the movies tonight."

He glared at her as if she'd cursed at him.

She shrugged. Whatever grudge this boy had against her, he wasn't going to give it up easily.

They did a steady stream of business, although not as much as she'd anticipated, and when the fireworks began, she glanced outside to see that the lot was barely half full. Since there wasn't much to do in Salvation on a Friday night, she knew a lot of people in town were making it clear that Gabe had to pay the consequences for hiring her.

Edward fell asleep not long after the Carrey movie began. His protest when she awakened him was unconvincing. As he leaned against her side while she helped him up the metal stairs, uneasiness over what she was doing to Gabe combined with worry about her own future. Dwayne's Bible hadn't revealed a single clue, and she was beginning to lose hope that it would. Maybe Gabe was right and the money had gone down in the plane with Dwayne.

She looked at her sleepy son. Gabe was making an effort to get along better with him. He'd taught Edward how to feed Tweety Bird without damaging the bird's soft beak and taken him on a walk in the woods near the cave where the bats lived, but Gabe's heart wasn't in it, and the atmosphere in the cottage grew more strained each day. She knew she had to do something soon.

Tom, the projectionist, smiled as she made her way through the projection room and tucked Edward into the sleeping bag she'd placed on the floor of Gabe's office. A boisterous man with a slew of grandchildren, he'd promised to let Rachel know if Edward woke up.

As she descended the stairs, she saw Gabe coming out of the snack shop. At the same time, a man she dimly recognized, although she couldn't immediately recall his identity, stepped from the shadows. "Doesn't look like you've got a full house tonight, Bonner."

Gabe shrugged. "Can't have a full house every night."

"Especially with the Widow Snopes working for you."

Gabe seemed to stiffen. "Why don't you mind your own business, Scudder?"

"Whatever you say." With a sneer, he walked away.

Russ Scudder. He'd lost a lot of hair since Rachel had last seen him and some weight, too. She remembered a more muscular man.

Gabe looked up as she came the rest of the way down the steps. "Russ used to work security at the Temple," she said.

"I know. I hired him to help out here, but I had to fire him after a couple of weeks. He wasn't reliable."

"He's right about what's happened. We should have had a bigger crowd. You're being punished because of me."

"It doesn't matter."

She knew it didn't, not to him, and that bothered her as much as the empty spaces. It should matter. "I wonder why he came tonight?"

"Probably needed a dark place to get drunk."

He moved off toward a car of noisy teenagers, and she returned to the snack shop to get ready for intermission. He reappeared to help out just as the first feature came to an end.

A line formed, but not a long enough one to give them trouble. Both of Gabe's brothers appeared to pick up food. Cal ordered two of everything, so she gathered that his wife was back in the car with their baby.

Ethan ordered double, too, but since Kayla was waiting on him, Rachel didn't notice. If she had, she might have been tempted to slip outside and see who he'd brought with him.

18

Ethan passed the tray of food to Kristy through the window of his car, then opened the door and slid behind the wheel. He immediately caught a hint of her perfume. Tonight it reminded him of black lace and a rumba, which was ridiculous because he'd never done a rumba in his life and didn't intend to.

He closed the car door. "They had those big chocolate-chip cookies, so I got a couple of them."

"That's fine." She spoke in the cool, polite voice she'd been using all evening, as if he were her boss, not her friend.

The tiny rings on her fingers glimmered from the floodlights that had been turned on for intermission. He watched anxiously as she set the food between them and unwrapped her hot dog. He'd put mustard on it because that was how he liked his hot dogs, but the truth was, he didn't have any idea whether she liked mustard. They'd eaten a couple of thousand lunches together over the past eight years, but he couldn't seem to remember what she'd eaten at any of them, except he thought he recalled some salads.

"They didn't have any salad."

She regarded him quizzically. "Of course they didn't."

He felt like an idiot. "I wasn't sure whether you'd rather have regular mustard or spicy brown." He waited. "They had both kinds."

"This is fine."

"Maybe you like ketchup better?"

"It doesn't matter."

"And relish. Did you want relish?" He set his own hot dog down. "I can go back and get some."

"That's not necessary."

"Really? Because I don't mind." He had the door half open when she stopped him.

"Ethan, I hate hot dogs!"

"Oh." He closed the door and sank back into the seat, feeling foolish and depressed. On the drive-in screen, a clock, accompanied by marching sodas, ticked away the intermission time. He felt as if it were marking off the minutes of his life.