She wrapped her cold hands around her mug. “I guess I shouldn’t be cracking jokes, with Roberta dead...” Her eyes burned with tears. “I still can’t believe it. Roberta’s gone. She’s gone.” She drew in a breath and sipped coffee. “We’ve done nothing but argue since Daddy died. But she wanted me to hold her hand and she was scared. She said she was sorry.” She looked at him. “She said it was Bert’s fault. Do you think she was delirious?”

“Not really,” he replied quietly.

“Why?”

“That can wait a bit.” He grew somber. “You don’t have any other family?”

She shook her head. She looked around. “But surely I can stay here by myself? I mean, I’m eighteen now...”

He frowned. “I thought you were seventeen.”

She hesitated. Her eyes went to the calendar and she grimaced. “I just turned eighteen. Today is my birthday,” she said. She hadn’t even realized it, she’d been so busy. Tears ran down her cheeks. “What an awful one this is.”

He caught her hand in his and held it tight. “No cousins?”

She shook her head. “I have nobody.”

“Not quite true. You have me,” he said firmly. “And Sara’s on her way down here.”

“Sara. Your sister?”

He nodded.

“She’ll stay with me?” she asked.

He smiled. “Not exactly. You’ll stay with us, in my house. I won’t risk your reputation by having you move in with just me.”

“But...we’re strangers,” she pointed out.

“No, we’re not,” he said, and he smiled. “I told you about my stepfather. That’s a memory I’ve never shared with anyone. And you won’t mention it to Sara, right?”

“Of course not.” She searched his black eyes. “Why would you do this for me?”

“Who else is there?” he asked.

She searched her mind for a logical answer and couldn’t find one. She had nobody. Her best friend, Amy, had moved to New York City with her parents during the summer. They corresponded, and they were still friends, but Michelle didn’t want to live in New York, even if Amy’s parents, with their five children, were to offer her a home.

“If you’re thinking of the local orphanage,” he said, tongue in cheek, “they draw the line at cow partisans.”

She managed a laugh. “Oh. Okay.”

“You can stay with us until you graduate and start college.”

“I can’t get in until fall semester, even if they accept me,” she began.

“Where do you want to go?”

“Marist College in San Antonio. There’s an excellent journalism program.”

He pulled out his cell phone, punched a few buttons and made a phone call. Michelle listened with stark shock. He was nodding, laughing, talking. Then he thanked the man and hung up.

“You called the governor,” she said, dumbfounded.