She never thought twice about waiting for the light, even though there was absolutely no traffic on Main Street. If she was aware at all that this was a change in her normal behavior, she gave no outward sign.

BJ arrived at the bench to find a boy occupying one end. “Mind if I grab some lumber, kid?”

The spiky blond-haired boy looked up from the coloring book. He wore round, wire-framed glasses that he frequently pushed up with one finger. Holding a small nub of crayon aloft, he looked her up and down with a wary eye. “My mom says I shouldn’t talk to strangers.”

BJ grinned. The boy had an almost indiscernible lisp that made him adorable, not that BJ was partial to children in any way. “Fair enough. I won’t talk to you then, but I’ll take a seat right here. Okay, kid?”

“My mom says learnin’ to share is good. S’okay.”

BJ stretched out her legs and rested her arms along the back of the bench. The youngster went back to coloring a map of the United States. “Hot out, huh, kid?”

“My mom says it’s not polite to call someone ‘kid.’”

BJ popped a piece of fudge into her mouth. The Florida heat had quickly turned the treat into warm brown goop. She held out the other piece in one hand. “Wan thum?” she mumbled.

“My mom says it’s not polite to talk with your mouth full.” BJ rolled her eyes, yet continued to hold the treat aloft. She knew he wanted it.

“Mom says I should never take candy from a stranger.” “Your mom’s got a lot of rules, doesn’t she?”

“Kinda.” He pushed at his glasses, then smiled at BJ. The grin was the kind that showed off two even rows of perfectly white baby teeth. His smile fairly glowed and BJ knew this was one of them—a kid who was truly happy.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“What’s it to ya?” BJ answered with a wink.

The boy shrugged, smiled again, and resumed his coloring. His feet swung in the air and he appeared perfectly content.

“What’s your name?” BJ asked a moment later. “What’s it to ya?” he said without missing a beat. “Oh, a smart aleck, eh?”

The youngster giggled.

BJ didn’t understand the bond she had with children. The last time Juliana had physically dragged her home for Thanksgiving, she’d received the shock of her life. Searching the house for BJ, she eventually found her in the basement lying on her stomach, circled by a half-dozen children, playing Candy Land. BJ wasn’t more comfortable with the children than with adults; the children merely accepted her biting honesty and open criticism.

“My name’s BJ.”

“Noah.” The youngster held out his hand. BJ smiled and shook it.

“See, now we’re not strangers.” She held out the fudge and the boy quickly popped the gooey mess into his mouth.

“Whatcha up to this afternoon, Bubba?”

“My name’s Noah,” he said and BJ chuckled. “I’m waitin’for my mom. She’s in the drugstore.”

“Ah, Mom, the one with all the rules. How was that fudge?” “Real good, thanks! Mom says sugar’s not really bad, ’less you eat too much. Mom says—”

BJ held up a hand. “You sure your mom’s not the great and powerful wizard from Oz?”

“No.” Noah giggled in reaction. “There she is! Hi, Mom.” Noah stood on the bench and jumped up and down as his mother came into view. BJ could only watch in stunned amazement as she came closer and, finally, Noah wrapped his arms around her neck.

“Hi, sweetheart.” Hobie kissed her son’s cheek and returned his fierce hug. “I see you have a new friend.” She gave a smirk in BJ’s direction.

“I should have known,” BJ said with a wry smile. “So this is your mom, huh?”

“Yep.”

“I see you two have been sharing some chocolate,” Hobie said.

“How did you know that?” BJ asked. “Oh,” she said upon seeing Noah’s chocolate-covered chin.

Hobie wiped her son’s face with a Kleenex. “Well, him and then there’s...uh...” She handed a clean piece of tissue to BJ.

BJ frowned and wiped her mouth. “Thanks,” she muttered. She suddenly realized that the boy looked exactly like Hobie when he scrunched his turned-up nose and pushed his glasses up.

Hobie sat and Noah jumped in her lap. The bond was easily readable. Hobie wore a million-dollar smile while listening to him talk about his day.

BJ felt a little disappointed by this turn of events. First, for some reason, she had assumed Hobie was unattached. The more time they spent together, the more she thought Hobie was gay. Hobie didn’t wear a wedding ring, but that didn’t mean anything, did it? The second reason was that BJ felt in the way. She watched, almost with envy, as Hobie and Noah laughed and hugged. For the first time, she realized that something was missing in her life, something important.

“You never said you had a kid,” she said.

“You never asked,” Hobie said. “Thanks for lunch, by the way. That was awfully sweet of you.” Noah settled in her lap and leaned back against her chest.

BJ arched one eyebrow. “Somehow I figured you’d be the last person on this island to call me sweet.”

Hobie chuckled. “Okay, it was very nice. How’s that?” “Much better, thanks. I do have a reputation to uphold, you know.”

“Oh, that’s right. The association might ask for their broom back.”

“You’re probably the one that dropped that house on my sister, aren’t you?”

Noah’s head swung back and forth as he watched them take turns talking. He didn’t think it sounded like joking, but he felt much better when the two women looked at each other and started laughing.

“What are you doing out here anyway?” Hobie asked.

“I’m waiting for Mack. He happened to mention he’d give me a ride if I needed one.”

“Oh, us too.” Hobie shifted Noah in her lap. “I loaned the truck to my friend Laura.”

Both women looked up as Mack’s patrol car braked sharply in front of them. The passenger side window opened and Mack appeared, leaning across the seat.

“Baylor, I’ve been looking for you. I need you to get in the car right now.”

Hobie knew that tone to her brother’s voice. It never meant good news. “Mack, is everything okay?”

“Sorry, Hob, I forgot about you and Noah. Come on, everyone, get in,” Mack said. “Baylor, your grandmother’s taken a turn for the worse.”

“What’s going on?” BJ demanded once they were settled. “All I know is what the nurse told me. She said something

about Evelyn developing a high fever. I guess they called in a doctor from the mainland and he said to contact her family. That’s really all I know.”

“Christ, that’s all they said?”

“Mom, she said a bad word,” Noah said.

“Shh, honey.” Hobie pulled Noah into her lap and kissed the top of his head. “She’s just very worried.”

BJ reached out and ruffled Noah’s hair. “Sorry, Bubba, don’t listen to me, okay? I may say a few more before the day’s over.”

Noah clamped his hands over his ears, and BJ smiled at him. “’Kay. I can’t hear you.”

Hobie pulled her son more tightly to her and watched BJ, who chewed on her thumbnail as she looked out the window. She looked worried and nervous, but Hobie saw something more. Hobie had seen that haunted expression numerous times. She’d seen it every time she walked into a waiting room to talk with a family member. Family who felt the truth long before the physicians would acknowledge it. That expression, a combination of hurt and fear, was one of the reasons she had left full-time medicine. She was used to that look but found that she didn’t like seeing it on BJ’s face. She laid her hand on BJ’s forearm.

BJ looked up in alarm, not used to people breaking that barrier, the personal space that she carefully maintained.

Hobie had no idea what to say to the woman who was still more a stranger than anything. She squeezed the strong arm and smiled, meeting the anxious gray eyes. Much to her surprise, BJ didn’t pull away. Even more surprising to Hobie was that she left her own hand resting there for the duration of the trip. Neither woman seemed inclined to pull away.

“Look, if I don’t see this doctor pretty goddamn soon—” BJ’s voice rose with every word as she shouted at the nurse. She quieted when she saw Noah clap his hands over his ears.

“Ms. Warren,” the nurse began, “I know exactly how you feel, believe me, but if Dr. Trenton stops to talk to you now, then your grandmother goes without his care. He’s at her bedside as we speak, and as soon as he can, he’ll come out and talk with you.”

The genuine look of concern on the nurse’s face, coupled with the calming tone of her voice, caused BJ to take a step back. She took a deep breath, reluctantly nodded, and sat beside Hobie and Noah.

“Sarah, is that Steve Trenton seeing Evelyn?” Hobie asked the nurse.

“Yes, it is.”

“Hey,” Hobie said, turning to face BJ. “The good news is that Steve Trenton is a complete alarmist. If he says she’s doing terrible, it means she’s not that bad.”

BJ offered Hobie a halfhearted smile. “You sound like you know him.”

“Sort of. I did my residency under him in Tampa.”

BJ couldn’t believe that at a time like this, she actually felt a little twinge of pain over the idea that Hobie could have possibly had a past before they met. “Did you...um, know him well?”

“I guess I did. As well as one can get to know a self-centered sexist jerk.” Hobie smiled. “As much as I dislike his ego, I know he’s good at what he does.”

“Ms. Warren?”

BJ and Hobie looked up to see the topic of their conversation standing before them. Steve Trenton was probably fifty years old, but he could have passed for forty. He was slim and tan, with a small sprinkling of gray at his temples. BJ disliked him immediately; he reminded her of the slick salesman who had talked her into buying her Jaguar.