She started to smile, even though she had a ton of things to worry about. She couldn’t wait to tell Dean that she’d been alone with Mrs. Garrison, and she’d hardly been scared at all.

Chapter Eighteen

Blue’s bedroom might be the smallest on the second floor, but it was also the farthest from her employer’s, and it had a tiny balcony overlooking the backyard. She sat cross-legged on the pink plush carpet, her back against the puffy floral bedspread as she studied the drawing she’d just finished. Nita’s eyes looked like a ferret’s. She’d have to fix that. Or maybe not.

The gilt bedside clock pointed to midnight. She set her sketchbook aside, yawned, and closed her eyes. In her mind, she saw the caravan nestled under the trees. She imagined a light flickering in the window, calling her home. But the caravan wasn’t home, and she’d get over missing it the same way she’d gotten over missing all the other places she’d left behind. All the other people she’d left behind.

Something hit the balcony door, and she jumped. As she twisted around, she saw a looming figure. Her heart lurched. A melee of emotions—anticipation, dread, anger—struck her all at once. She pushed herself up from the carpet, stomped over to the door, and yanked it open. “What do you think you’re doing? I almost had a coronary.”

“I do that to women.” Dean stepped inside. He smelled spicy and exotic, while she smelled like hash browns. He took in her wrinkled Goodyear T-shirt with old paint stains on the logo. She hadn’t even washed her hair this morning because Nita kept banging her cane on the bathroom door demanding breakfast. Still, he seemed a lot more critical of the pink-on-pink bedroom than of her. “Where do you keep your Barbies?”

“You could have called,” she retorted. “Or, better yet, continued to ignore me.” She sounded like a sulky ex-girlfriend, but it hurt that he’d stayed away, even though that’s what she’d wanted him to do.

“Now where’s the fun in calling?” He wore faded button-fly jeans and a fitted black shirt with a tuxedo-pleated front. Who would even think of putting together something like that? And pulling it off so perfectly.

“How did you know this was my room?”

He slipped his finger under the bunched sleeve of her T-shirt and straightened it. “The only one with the light still on.”

If it weren’t so late, if Nita hadn’t tested the last ounce of her patience, if Blue hadn’t missed him so much, she’d have done a better job of hiding her feelings of ill use. As it was, she snatched her arm away. “You’ve ignored me all week, and now you decide to show up in the middle of the night.”