She grinned up at him. “Okay. You can have pie and ice cream.”

He smiled and opened the door for her.

She hesitated in the opening, just staring up at him, drinking in a face that was as handsome as any movie star’s, at the physique that could have graced an athlete.

“Stop ogling me, if you please,” he said with exaggerated patience. “You have to transfer that interest to someone less broken.”

She made a face at him. “You’re not broken,” she pointed out. “Besides, there’s nobody anywhere who could compare with you.” She flushed at her own boldness. “Anyway, you’re safe to cut my teeth on, and you know it.” She grinned. “I’m off-limits, I am.”

He laughed. “Off-limits, indeed, and don’t you forget it.”

“Spoilsport.”

She went inside ahead of him. He felt as if he could fly. Dangerous, that. More dangerous, his reaction to her. She was years too young for anything more than banter. But, he reminded himself, the years would pass. If he lived long enough, after she graduated from college, who knew what might happen?

There was a grim memorial service at the Comanche Wells Cemetery. It was part of the land owned by the Methodist church where Reverend Blair was the minister. He stood over the small open grave, with an open Bible in his hands, reading the service for the dead. The urn containing Roberta’s ashes was in the open grave, waiting for the funeral home’s maintenance man, standing nearby, to close after the ceremony.

Gabriel stood beside Michelle, close, but not touching. He was wearing a suit, some expensive thing that fit him with delicious perfection. The navy darkness of the suit against the spotless white shirt and blue patterned tie only emphasized his good looks. His wavy black hair was unruly in the stiff breeze. Michelle’s own hair was tormented into a bun because of the wind. But it blew tendrils down into her eyes and mouth while she tried to listen to the service, while she tried even harder to feel something for the late Roberta.

It was sad that the woman’s own sister didn’t care enough to even send a flower. Total strangers from Jacobs County had sent sprays and wreathes and potted plants to the funeral home that had arranged for the cremation. The flowers were spread all around the grave. Some of them would go to the local hospital and nursing home in Jacobsville, others for the evening church service here. A few of the potted plants would go home with Michelle.

She remembered her father, and how much he’d been in love with Roberta at first. She remembered Roberta in the days before Bert. More recently, she remembered horrible arguments and being slapped and having Roberta try to sell the very house under her feet. There had been more bad times than good.