“She also doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to get to Iowa. The whole thing is starting to worry me. What are you going to do if things don’t work out with the grandmother?”

Nealy didn’t like the way his eyes narrowed. “The girls are Joanne Pressman’s responsibility. She’ll have to make them work out.”

She glanced back at Button sleeping in her car seat, the Beanie Baby walrus curled over one chubby thigh, then gazed at Lucy sprawled across the bed with her head buried in a book. These little girls deserved a family and she could only pray that they’d find one.

Mat had hoped they’d be closer to the Iowa border by nightfall, but the picnic had held them up. Then Nell saw a sign for a county fair, and the next thing he knew, he was perched on the back of a merry-go-round horse with a wide-eyed baby on his lap. Now, as they hit a deserted stretch of highway in central Illinois, that same baby was falling apart. With the closest campground forty miles away and her screams getting louder, he pulled off the highway at a weather-beaten FOR SALE sign.

A narrow, rutted lane led to an abandoned farmhouse. He parked the Winnebago in a small clearing between the house and the skeleton of an old barn.

“I bet a chain-saw murderer or somebody lives here.”

He heard apprehension behind the bravado in Lucy’s voice, but he wasn’t going to make her swallow her pride by mentioning it. “You chicken, ace?”

“No, I’m not chicken! But Nell looks nervous.”

Nell, in fact, looked delighted. But then every new adventure seemed to delight her. “Do you think anyone will mind if we stay here?” she asked.

He opened the door and gazed around at the weedy drive and sagging house. “It doesn’t look like anybody’s been here for a while. I don’t think we have to worry too much.”

He was given Button-duty while Nell boiled some water for the spaghetti he’d bought for emergency rations, along with a jar of sauce. Lucy picked up the debris from their day and set out the dishes without being asked. Nell, who didn’t seem to be able to enjoy a meal without ants, announced they were eating outside, and they dined on the old quilt spread on the ground in an overgrown apple orchard.