“On Saturday?” Tad asked.

He chuckled. “We work whenever we need to,” he replied. “It was nice to meet you, Tad,” he added.

Tad grinned from ear to ear. “It was nice to meet you, too!”

Colter glanced at Clancey, who still looked nervous. “See you Monday, kid,” he said with a smile.

She forced a smile in reply. “You will,” she replied.

He glanced toward a corner of the living room and saw an older classical guitar sitting in a chair. “Who plays?” he asked abruptly.

Clancey swallowed, hard. “Our grandfather used to.”

He moved closer and looked at the guitar more closely. “New strings,” he remarked, glancing at her with a questioning look.

“I play, too. Just a little.”

He smiled. “It’s a beautiful instrument.”

She nodded. “Granddaddy got it when he was a boy. I miss him,” she added softly.

“He’s dead?”

She nodded. It was easier than telling him the truth. “Thanks again for bringing us home.”

“Anytime,” he replied.

He gave the guitar one last look, smiled secretively and closed the door behind him, when he left.

Clancey let out the breath she’d been holding.

“Why do you look so nervous?” Tad asked.

“I’m not comfortable around men,” she confessed.

“Yeah, but Mr. Banks wouldn’t hurt you. He’s nice.”

She managed a smile. “Yes, he is. It’s a woman thing. If you grow up to be a woman, I’ll explain it to you,” she added wickedly.

He made a face at her. “I’m going to grow up to be a big, strong man,” he countered. He frowned. “Will I be taller than Dad, you think?”

“You might be as tall as your grandfather,” she replied gently. “He was six feet tall.”

“I don’t remember him, much,” Tad said, sadly.

“He was a sweet man,” she replied. She sighed. “I miss him very much.”

“I don’t remember Dad so much.” He shivered. “I remember Morris, though.”

“We both have cause to remember him.”

“They’ll tell us, if he gets out early, right?” he worried aloud.

She hugged him. “They’ll tell us. At least, Cal will, even if everybody else forgets.”

“I like Cal. He’s cool. But your boss is awesome!” he added.

She sighed. “He’s not what I thought he was,” she replied thoughtfully.

“Why?”

“It’s a long story and I have to fix supper,” she replied. “Go shoot aliens while I put something on to cook.”

“You bet!”

He ran back to his room while she headed to the kitchen. If she could have afforded it, she’d have invited Banks to have coffee. But it was so expensive that she rationed it to one cup a day. Still, she could have offered. She felt cheap and mean. She was uneasy about letting him into her life—that was the real reason. She didn’t want him to know about Morris. She didn’t ever want him to know.