Miguel managed to drive home. Cait had dinner ready, a skillet full of seasoned hamburger meat and a pile of warm tortillas.

“You want the works?” she asked. “I have tomatoes, lettuce, cheese and—” She looked at him. “Are you okay?”

“Stomach upset. And headache. I’m going to lie down.”

“Maybe if you ate something you’d feel better.”

“Take it to him. I need to sleep.”

“Okay,” she said. “But if you get hungry—” He had already shut his bedroom door.

Cait’s plan was to fill two bags with food, put one on the doc’s doorstep, give a quick knock, then skedaddle away in her Jeep. She’d take her food to the clinic and start on the files.

But the doc thwarted her. He wasn’t hidden safely away in the trailer but was outside and came around the corner just as she put a bag of food down.

She came face-to-face with him. “I, uh, was leaving you something to eat. My dad wasn’t hungry, so—” She shrugged, not wanting to explain. “I have to go. I need to—” She wasn’t going to tell him where she was going or what she planned to do. She turned away.

“Is that your dinner?”

She stopped and turned back. He was looking at the bag in her hand. “Yeah. I have to go.” Again, she turned away.

“How about if we eat together?”

Cait frowned. Was he hitting on her? She didn’t look at him, just raised her hand in a wave. “I’m too busy tonight. Maybe another time.”

“What if I drive us to the DQ and we get Cokes and ice cream?”

With an expression of horror, she whirled to face him. “Have you been spying on me? Stalking me?”

He seemed unperturbed by her anger. “Your dad left the door to your Jeep open just now and a wrapper blew out. I assumed it wasn’t his. He doesn’t look like a DQ kind of guy. More of a steak from an animal that he brought down himself. With a penknife.”

She couldn’t suppress a smile at the image of her father and relaxed her shoulders. “Guilty. The wrapper is mine.” She looked around. “But I warn you that if you tell my uncles, I’ll get Betty Lewis to come clean the trailer. You’ll never find anything ever again.”

He feigned a look of fear. “She would put kitchen utensils in my bed.”

“And your shoes in the fridge.”

“I don’t want to think where she’d put the toilet paper.” They looked at each other for a moment, smiling.

“Okay,” she said. “Large Cokes and huge ice-cream cones, but tell no one.”

When he grinned, Cait thought he was rather attractive. She’d only seen him when he was scowling or smirking.

There wasn’t a question as to which vehicle they’d take. His car was a four-door sedan, cheap and old.