“Walking to work in the cold and wet,” he said quietly, studying her wan face. “Honest to God, Clancey, there’s got to be a bus or a car pool, some way you can get to work without having to walk!”

“Walking is great exercise, and except for having pneumonia every autumn, I do very well.”

He sighed heavily. He was concerned. She was so young to have health problems and a very young dependent. “I thought you lived at home with your parents and had all the support you needed. It was a shock to find you solely responsible for a young child in school, with no one else in your family.”

“I do okay,” she said easily, smiling.

“You do better than that,” he said with evident admiration. “Most young women your age would have put Tad in foster care.”

“A few might,” she conceded. “But I don’t really have a social life to worry about, and Tad’s a joy to have around.” Her pale gray eyes sparkled like silver in candlelight. “I love kids.”

His heart jumped, for no discernible reason. “I’ve never thought about kids. Well, I did once, before Grace went off on a mission to South America.” His face was drawn and sad. “After the one she worked for in Africa.”

“Brenda says she’s very religious.”

“Yes.”

“And she goes to villages way back in the Amazon jungle with her church’s mission program. She must be very brave.”

He smiled with delight. “Yes, she is. Her boyfriend was my best friend. We were together a lot.” His eyes dulled. “When Mike was killed, we both went a little off the rails. He was a great guy.”

“Wasn’t he a policeman?”

He nodded. “He took his mother to the bank. He was off duty at the time. There was a robbery and he was shot and killed, along with his mother. His sister is married to one of the Hart boys, down in Jacobsville,” he added. “I see her from time to time.”

“That’s a shame about him and his mother both dying. Did they catch the robbers?”

“They did. They’re serving life sentences for felony murder.” His eyes were cold. “I go to every parole hearing.”

She could guess why. “I had a best friend in high school, but she moved to California with her family.” She grimaced. “I don’t get close to people anymore.”

“Neither do I,” he replied gruffly. His black eyes searched her silver ones in a silence that grew intimate, dangerous.

She felt her heart beating in her throat at the intensity of that stare. It made her uneasy. It was violent, passionate. Images filled her mind. She fought them. This wouldn’t do, not at all. She dragged her eyes away from his with an effort.