Cord laughed, sent the dogs to their beds near the woodstove with a quiet word and a motion of one hand. They obeyed, collapsing onto the matching sheepskin pads with sighs of resignation, their brown eyes rolling toward Carly, liquid with devotion.

He was chilled, since the kid was still wearing his jacket, and he felt drawn toward the stove, but Carly was already there, and he didn’t want to crowd her. She reminded him of a fawn, spindly legged and easily spooked.

“It’s called linoleum,” he said, looking down at the scrapes and scratches, noticing the places where the pattern had worn away. “As for the ‘ink,’ as you call it, no comment.”

“Oh, yeah. Linoleum. I’ve heard of it.” Carly was grinning and more relaxed than before.

Cord credited Tina, who was busy pouring coffee, with keeping the tension level down.

“Sit,” Tina told Cord briskly. “You make me nervous, standing there like a telephone pole.”

He chuckled, went to his customary chair at the long trestle table. Once, it had been his grandfather’s place, and sitting there still felt odd, even after almost twelve years.

“Will this keep you awake?” Tina asked Carly, with sudden concern. Late-night coffee was an institution on the ranch, but the girl was a newcomer.

“Nothing keeps me awake,” Carly replied, leaving the stove at last and taking a seat on one of the long benches lining either side of the table. Then, as an afterthought, she added, “Well, coffee doesn’t, anyway.”

Cord wondered what did keep her awake, but he wasn’t about to ask.

He still felt the need to give the kid space and, besides, he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer. God only knows what she regarded as the twenty-first century norm.

“Well, you drink up, then,” Tina said cheerfully, addressing the girl, setting three steaming mugs of hot java on the table. “Soon as you’ve warmed up a little, we’ll head over to my place. You can take a hot bath—or a shower, if you’d prefer—and I’ll rustle up pajamas for you. You’re about the same size as my Susan. She keeps some clothes at our place, since she visits pretty often.”

Carly cupped her hands around the mug in front of her, breathed in the rising steam with obvious appreciation. “Thanks,” she said, and she sounded sincere.

Cord watched her and wondered if the kid was behaving herself because of the don’t-mess-with-Tina edict he’d issued earlier, or if she simply enjoyed being mothered.

No question, Tina had a gift for that.

“You’re entirely welcome,” Tina said, patting Carly’s shoulder gently as she passed, heading for the much-maligned refrigerator to grab a dairy carton.