Hank shut the computer down before more bad news came in. When Simon’s father had died two years ago, he’d been part of Hank’s team. Three other men besides Hank, all single, swore they’d watch over Simon and his mother. At first all the kid did was read and play games. Then after a few months he stopped listening to anyone. It wasn’t like he was acting out; it was more like Simon didn’t notice anyone in the room. He wouldn’t eat when they asked him to, or go to bed, or pay any attention. The kid gave his four guardian-angel-uncles hell when his mother had to go back to work.

Hank swore when he got back, he’d try harder to reach the boy.

Chapter 14 - Ketch

Chapter 14

Ketch

Ketch Kincaid finished his job for the Randall brothers by four. For once it felt good to be pulling the construction trucks into the bay early. Thunder warned of rain in the lower valley. He could have pushed the crew a bit more but they were at a good place to stop. He needed to head for the night classes that would be taking Dr. Monroe’s survey.

As he double-timed the stairs to his room to clean up, Ketch couldn’t stop smiling. Surprisingly, he was interested in what the professor’s testing would find. He felt like he was starting over in this game men and women play. Maybe he’d find out what attracted him to the kind of woman who didn’t believe in forever.

For six years he’d thought he’d found his life partner in Crystal. They’d had everything in common. The army, both wanting a big family, an education. They seemed to speak the same language, or at least he thought they had. He and Crystal had talked about what to name their kids, where to live, what kind of house they wanted, where they’d go on vacations.

They matched. The sex was primal and great. Both were in top shape and planned to stay that way. They even liked the same movies. They finished each other’s sentences.

But she’d broken it off. About the time they were going to become two sides of one coin, Crystal ended it with a letter. Not even a kiss goodbye, just a letter.

How could he have read the signals so wrong?

As he showered and dressed in his standard jeans and pullover shirt, he realized that he knew nothing about the chemistry of mating. He would help with the survey even if they weren’t paying him. At twenty-six he didn’t have much time to be wrong again.

An hour later he was in the first community class for seniors in high school who were trying to get into college. Questionnaires were on the desk in front of him. Most of the crowd seemed interested.