Leo, like the other Caranos, had worked overtime to draw Collin into the fold. Though they'd yet to get him back to a large family gathering, he'd started hanging out with regularity at the Carano Bakery-at Leo's insistent invitation.

"Cops and donuts. They're a natural," her dad had said, but she knew he liked the quiet cop.

So did she.

"We need a couple of bales of hay to make the stable scene look authentic," Leo said. "I figured Collin might have some extra."

"Dad," Mia said, stricken at the memory. "Collin won't have any hay."

"Sure he will..." He stopped and set the manger down with a thud. "What was I thinking? All his hay went up with the barn."

"Yeah." Mitch scuffed a toe against the brown grass.

After their escape, while the firefighters drenched the glowing remains of the animal refuge, Collin had asked Mitch if he'd been smoking in the barn again. The question had devastated the boy. He hadn't been to the farm in the days since.

"He doesn't want me out there anymore."

"That's not true. He's upset right now because of the lost animals, but he's not upset with you."

"I could hear the puppies crying."

A heaviness tugged at Mia. They'd discussed this before, but the dying animals haunted him. "I know."

"I tried to find them, but the smoke was so bad."

She slid the lights from her shoulder and signaled Adam with a glance. He touched a finger to his eyebrow in silent agreement, understanding her need to counsel with Mitch. "Let's go sit on the porch and talk."

He followed her, slumping onto the step of the long concrete porch. Rosalie had moved down to the end post to add a red bow to the greenery.

"The investigators are still checking into the fire, but if you say you weren't smoking, I believe you."

"But Collin doesn't."

"I think he does, Mitchell, and he's sorry he hurt your feelings. He just has a hard time saying so."

"He's mad because of the puppies."

"No. He's sad. The same way you and I are."

The young boy stared morosely across the street where two squirrels gathered nuts beneath a pecan tree. "Do you think God cares about animals? Strays, I mean?"

She'd wondered when he'd ask something like that. Her faith was an open topic with anyone who knew her and the two of them had had more than one deep discussion.

"Sparrows aren't worth much in our eyes, but the Bible says God feeds them and watches over them." She pointed toward the squirrels. "And just look at those guys. God provided all the nuts they could ever want in that one tree. And they don't even have to buy them!"

Her attempt at humor fell flat. Mitchell wasn't in a joking mood.

"I'm going to miss them. Rascal and Slick and Milly and her kittens." Mitchell had named them all, something that had bothered Collin at first.

He gathered a handful of dead grass and tossed the blades one at a time.

"There would be something wrong with us if we didn't grieve over what we care about. But remember this one good thing-God allowed us to love them and give them a nice home in their last days. They hadn't had that before."

"Yeah. That's true." He tossed the remaining grass and wiped a hand down his jeans' leg. "I guess God is okay."

Mia draped an arm across Mitch's shoulders. "God is the best friend you could ever have, Mitchell."

"Is Collin a Christian?"

Something sharp pinched at her heart. "You'll have to ask him about that."

She wanted to believe that Collin would eventually accept Christ. Especially now. And not just because of Mitch's adoration, though that certainly loomed large. Mitch admired her Christian dad and brothers, too, but he shared a bond with Collin.

"You miss him, don't you?"

"Yeah."

"He misses you, too."

Mitch looked at her, hope as rich as the coffee-colored eyes. "You think?"

"I know. He told me on the phone last night." A phone call she'd instigated. Since the fire, he'd drawn back somewhat, as though he couldn't deal with all the emotions that had come pouring out that night. She was still puzzled and exhilarated by that unexpected kiss. Puzzled even more at how he had seemed to develop amnesia afterwards.

"He needs your help out there to get things going again. Let's call him later, huh?"

She would keep on calling until he opened up again.

"I guess so."

"Hey, Mitchell," Mia's dad called. "Are you going to sit around on the porch and suntan or are we going to that turkey shoot?"

"I'm ready." Mitchell leaped up, then caught himself and looked back at Mia. "Okay, Mia?"

After the fire she'd become Mia instead of Miss Carano. That kind of familiarity had never happened before with one of her clients, and she prayed she wouldn't lose perspective. Somehow Mitchell had wound his scruffy self around her heart and that of her family.

"Have fun."

Mitch was gone in a flash.

"You can depend on Dad to interrupt an important conversation," Rosalie murmured, coming to join Mia in Mitch's now-abandoned spot.

"Mitch needs the distraction. He's been pretty down since the fire."

"So have you. Maybe not down so much as too quiet. Want to talk about it?"

"I have a lot on my mind, Mama. That's all. Work, Mitch." She shrugged.

"Collin," Mama concluded.

"Yes. Him, too." She picked at a thread on her knit jacket. "He kissed me the night of the fire."

"Who could blame him? You're beautiful."

Mia laughed. "Oh, Mama, no wonder I love you so."

"You like him?"

"Maybe more than I should. I don't date guys who aren't Christians, Mom. You know that. You taught me that."

"But you're falling for him anyway."

Mia stared morosely at the crystal lights Adam and Nic were tacking in place along the board fence. The brothers argued happily as they worked, the sound of frequent laughs punctuating the air. Two big ol' macho men with marshmallow hearts. How she loved them.

No wonder Collin Grace appealed to her. For all his outward toughness, he was a softie on the inside just like her brothers.

Two nights ago, he'd lost his hard facade, both with her and then later when he'd found the first of several dead animals. Happy, the little survivor, had saved himself. Mitchell had freed Panda and her remaining kittens, and the large animals were safe in outside pens. But one litter of new kittens and an old sickly dog and her pup hadn't made it out alive. Mia couldn't forget the look on Collin's face: stricken, haunted, guilty.

He'd looked the same in those seconds before he had kissed her. She couldn't get that look or that kiss off her mind.

A kiss shouldn't be such a big deal. She wasn't a teenager. But she had already been fighting her growing emotions and when he'd looked at her, fear and firelight in his eyes, and wrapped her in a hard, protective hug, she'd faced the hard truth. Christian or not, she had strong feelings for Collin Grace. And even if he never admitted it, Collin felt something for her, too. Maybe that's why he was running scared. Collin didn't like to feel.

The wind blew a lock of hair across her face. She pushed the curl behind one ear.

"At first, I thought I was helping Collin. You know, doing the Christian thing, being a witness, going the extra mile, trying to draw him out to a place where he can heal. Collin's a good man, Mama. But he's had so much heartache that he's afraid to trust anybody. Even God."

Mama took Mia's chilled hands in her warm ones. "Then our job is to show him that he can. That God is trustworthy. And so are we. Dad's trying to do that at the bakery."

"I know. After the fire I gave him a book to read, the one about finding your purpose through Christ. We talked about the Lord a little then, but I felt so inadequate in the face of what had happened. I'm not sure I said the right things. I wanted him to know that God cared about him and his animals and his losses."

She yearned to tell Mama about Collin's lost brothers and lean on her wisdom. But she'd promised confidentiality even though telling her mother would help both of them. Rosalie was a prayer warrior who never stopped praying for something until the answer came. Mia wasn't having much success on her own, but God knew where Ian and Drew were.

"How is he handling the fire?"

"The usual way-by pretending he isn't bothered." The fact that he'd retreated into his shell again told her the tough cop with the marshmallow center was mourning the animals and the uninsured barn.

If only she could find some trace of his brothers to cheer him. Some bit of good news. She gripped her mother's hands tighter, giving them a quick bounce.

"Mama. I need you to help me pray about something."

Rosalie's eyes lit up. "Of course. What is it?"

"Well, that's the trouble. I need you to pray. But I can't tell you why."

Her mama looked at her for one beat of time, then smiled a mother's knowing smile. And Mia felt better than she'd felt since the night of the barn fire.

"Thank you, Lord," Mia said as she hung up the telephone. After going through dozens of boxes and hundreds of old records, she'd hit pay dirt two days after the conversation with her mama.

This time, she'd tempered her excitement long enough to make some phone calls and verify that a foster mother named Maxine Fielding not only still lived in Oklahoma City, but also remembered caring for a rowdy eleven-year-old named Drew Grace.

She glanced at the clock. Another two hours before she could head for Collin's place with her news. She thought about calling his cell, but found that unsatisfactory. She wanted to see his face, to watch him smile again. The past week had been a rough one.

A desk laden with paperwork needed her attention anyway, so she went to work there, weeding through files, making calls, setting up appointments. She phoned Mitchell's school to check on his attendance and discipline referrals and to inquire about any further indication of abuse.

Even with the barn fire setback, the boy had held his ground. And after the turkey shoot last Saturday, he'd let her take him out to Collin's where the three of them had spent hours putting together makeshift pens for the remaining animals.

The problems with the stepfather were accumulating though, and all her praying hadn't changed that one bit. The man had been furious when she'd interviewed him about Mitch's black eye, and Mitch hadn't helped by claiming he'd gotten into a fight at school. She wanted to get Mitch out of that house, though she couldn't without substantiated evidence. But now, both she and Collin were watching. Collin had even alerted the drug unit to be aware of possible illegal activities, though nothing had surfaced yet.

At ten after five she rotated her head from side to side, stretching tired muscles. Time to go. She tossed three Snickers wrappers into the trash and then dialed Collin's cell number.

"Grace."

She smiled at the short bark he substituted for a simple hello. And she couldn't deny that her heart jumped at the sound of that strong, masculine voice.

"Your name always makes me think of a song."

"Oh. Hi, Mia," he said. "I didn't recognize the number."

"My office."

"How does my name remind you of a song?"

She'd known he wouldn't let that one pass. With a smile in her voice, she said, "'Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me.' It's a song about God's incredible love for us."

"The guys call me Amazing Grace sometimes. I never quite got that."

"Do you know what grace actually means?"

"I'm sure you're going to tell me." She heard the humor behind the gentle jab.

"Unmerited favor. God chooses to love and accept us, not because of what we do or don't do, but all because of His amazing grace."

A moment of silence hummed through the line. Though she hadn't planned to talk about her faith just now, she wanted Collin to understand how much Jesus loved him. She prayed that the truth of amazing grace would soak into his spirit and draw him to the Lord. She also hoped she hadn't just turned him ice-cold to the whole idea.

Finally, his voice soft, Collin said, "I'll never let the guys call me that again."

"Oh, Collin." He'd understood.

"So what's up?" he asked, sidestepping the emotion they both heard in her voice.

"I'm about to leave the office. Are you home?"

"Not yet. Why?"

"I want to talk to you in person."

"News?"