“I have no idea, but I’d like you to talk to a young man about her.”

“Yeah? You matchmaking?”

Miguel’s voice strengthened. “You and your little archery stunt caused a lot of problems to the wrong people. You need to right your wrong!”

“Okay,” Kyle said meekly. “What do you need?”

Miguel told him.

Later, just before he was supposed to meet Griff at the schoolhouse, he texted his daughter.

Vera needs an article she wrote in 1982 about the Falklands War. ASAP, please.

He well knew that his wife had never written anything about the Falklands.

Fingers crossed, he went in search of his wife and whatever pies Forey had for sale.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

“Papi?” Mike called as she entered the schoolhouse. Before she was old enough to travel to foreign countries to be with her parents, twice a year they would return to see her. The old schoolhouse was always kept ready for them. Vera never stayed more than two weeks, but Papi usually stayed for a month. Mike smiled in memory of the good times they’d had there.

When Griffin stepped into the light, Mike’s mouth hardened and her fists clenched. All day she’d been trying to follow her father’s advice of not contacting Hayes, but it hadn’t been easy.

She was the one who usually made the most effort in the relationship, but she knew she was like Vera. Neither of them liked to wait for something to happen.

But Hayes hadn’t contacted Mike. And standing before her was the cause of the problem. She turned to leave.

“Wait!” he said. “Please. I apologize. I’m sorry.” She didn’t turn around but she didn’t start walking. “Don’t I deserve a trial? At least a hearing?”

She turned to look at him, but her face hadn’t softened. “I’m listening.”

“My sin was not having showered and shaved, and smiling at a pretty girl. That’s all, but those guards were about to call the sheriff and have me arrested. If I hadn’t been able to prove who I was, I would’ve had to spend the weekend in jail. The punishment was far stronger than merited.”

She knew he was right but that made things worse.

“If it helps any, I’m here for less than a week. Then I leave and you’ll probably never see me again.” He looked at her in a pleading way. “But I hope to have lots of correspondence with you about my work.”

Mike walked past him to go into the glass-walled area at the back of the house and turned on the big computer. “I never knew your grandfather. I can’t tell you anything about him.”

“That’s okay. Your mother already wrote everything about him that’s important.”

“The Pulitzer committee thought so, too.” She sat down in the chair in front of the screen.