She glanced over at Button, whose peach denim jumper was already dirty from crawling around on the porch, and then at Lucy, who looked miserable. What was going to happen to these girls? Mat was a decent man, and he was trying hard to do the right thing, but he’d made it clear that his life didn’t include raising children. That left foster care or adoption. Families would jump at the opportunity to adopt Button, but nobody was going to adopt Lucy. She’d be separated from the little sister she was trying so fiercely to protect.

Lucy had moved from thumbnail to forefinger. “He’s going to kill me when he comes out.”

Nealy tried to clear the knot of emotion from her throat. “You should have told him about your grandmother right away. And you shouldn’t have forged that letter.”

“Yeah, right. Then Button wouldn’t have had any chance at all. They’d have taken her away from me that same day.”

It occurred to Nealy that this teenager already knew more about courage than most people learned in a lifetime. She spoke as gently as she could. “What did you hope to accomplish by making Mat believe your grandmother was still alive?”

“When something bad happened, Sandy used to say, ‘It ain’t over till it’s over.’ And I thought that, if the trip took long enough, something good might happen on the way.”

“Mat might decide to keep you.”

Lucy didn’t answer. She didn’t have to.

“I’m sorry, Luce. You know there are lots of great foster homes. And Mat will check up on you.” Mat had never said anything of the kind, but Nealy knew he would. “I will, too.”

“There won’t be any reason to check up on me because I can take care of myself,” Lucy said stubbornly, “and I won’t go to a foster home. ” Her bravado faded. “You guys both like Button a lot, I know you do. She’s really a great baby. She’s cute and smart, and she’s hardly any trouble. Well, maybe a little, but she’ll grow out of it real soon, probably next month or something.” Lucy gave up on subtlety. “I don’t see why you and Mat can’t get married and adopt her.”

Nealy regarded her with dismay. “Lucy, we’re not going to—”

“That’s bullshit, man!” Nico’s angry voice cut in. “Those kids don’t have anything to do with me!” The door flew open and he shot out carrying his duffel and a guitar, with Mat following. “Look, I’m taking off. If you guys want to crash here for a while, that’s fine with me. But that’s it.”

He tossed a set of house keys at Mat, then vaulted off the steps without looking at either Lucy or Button. A few moments later, he shot down the narrow drive on his motorcycle.