"Maybe." She didn't want to get his hopes up again and have them shattered.

"I'm off duty. Meet me at Braums on Penn. I'll buy you a grilled chicken salad."

"Throw in a hot chocolate and you've got yourself a date."

A soft masculine laugh flowed through the wires and straight into her heart. The memory of their kiss flared to life, unspoken but most definitely not forgotten. Oh, dear.

Mia bit down on the inside of her lip. Why couldn't she ever keep her big mouth shut?

Maxine Fielding had a great memory. The silver-haired woman regaled Collin with the good, the bad and the ugly about his brother's behavior. And the pleasure in Collin's face served as a reward for the lunch hours Mia had spent in the spooky, smelly basement of the municipal building.

"You don't by any chance have some pictures from that time, do you?" she asked the older woman. "Anything that could lead us to some of the boys who might have known Drew?"

"Sorry, hon," Maxine said, her fleshy face sorrowful. "I used to have a lot of pictures of my kids. That's what I always called them. Every one of them that came through here was mine for a while." She gestured with one hand. The knuckles were twisted with arthritis. "Anyways, while I was in the hospital a while back, my daughters decided to clean my house. Threw out all my mementos." She shook her head. "I'm still peeved about that."

Mia wished she hadn't asked, though Collin, sitting on an old velvet couch with his elbows on his knees, showed no emotion. His uniform was still neat after a day's work. And even with a five-o'clock shadow on his normally clean-shaven face, he looked good. A woman could get distracted with him around.

In fact, she was distracted. She let Collin do most of the talking, a strange turn of events. She was falling for him, all right, and didn't quite know what to do about it.

In the end, the foster mother recalled two other families that had cared for troubled boys during the same time period as well as a couple of group homes no longer in operation. That information alone gave Mia more names to plug into the computer, some specific files to dig through, and more chances to come up with something solid.

"So what do you think?" she asked when she and Collin were back inside his truck. He cranked the engine and pushed the heat lever to high. As night had fallen, so had the temperatures, and now a light rain spat at the windshield.

"Nice lady. I'm glad Drew was here for a while."

She could hear the unspoken wish that he'd been here, too. "Doesn't that give you hope that your brothers did okay in the system? That maybe they even found a family?"

"Wanna look into those locked files and find out?" A ghost of a smile reflected in the dashboard lights.

"No."

"I knew you'd say that." But his reply held humor instead of animosity, and she hoped he finally understood. There were some things she wouldn't do, even for him.

"Mrs. Fielding liked Drew."

"I've worried about him for so long, thought the worst." He shifted into Reverse and backed the truck onto the street. "Hearing that someone cared about him, even temporarily, felt good."

She was glad. More than glad, she was thankful. Collin had needed this news. He'd needed to leave the tragedy of the barn fire behind for a while. He'd needed to believe something positive had happened to his brothers. As he'd talked with Mrs. Fielding, he'd smiled, even laughed at her fond memories.

Collin's love for his lost brothers was fierce and steadfast, a powerful testament to the way he might someday love a woman. Mia refused to dwell on the lovely thought.

"We're going to find them, Collin."

He reached across the seat and touched her hand. "After tonight, I'm starting to believe you."

Three days before Thanksgiving the weather turned sunny and mild. Collin felt pretty sunny himself as he left the gym with his partner, Maurice, along with Adam Carano. The other two men argued amiably over which sit-ups worked best, straight knee or bent.

Adam had first come to the gym to discuss the lawsuit, but now he'd become a permanent member along with the two cops. Collin liked the guy. And he also admired the way Adam was handling the lawsuit. When he took on a case, he was a real bulldog. Like his sister.

Collin's smile widened. Thinking about Mia did that to him lately.

"What are you grinning about, Grace?" Adam slapped him on the back. Collin's sweat-damp sweatshirt stuck to his shoulder.

"You talk as much as your sister."

"That's a terrible thing to say to your lawyer."

"When are you going to quit torturing me and get that problem solved?"

"I'm getting close. Did you know your neighbor has a real problem with cops? Especially you?"

Collin sawed a towel back and forth behind his neck. "Tell me something I don't already know."

"Okay, I will." Adam looked pleased with himself. "You remember busting a kid named Joey Stapleton a few years back for breaking and entering?"

"No, but the fire inspector suspects my barn was arson. Not B and E." His good mood evaporated at the memory of the animals Mia, Mitch and he had buried beneath the harvest moon.

Adam held up a hand. "Collin, my man. Lesson one about attorney-client privileges. Never interrupt your lawyer when he's on a roll. You disappoint me. You didn't even ask how Stapleton was connected."

"Okay, I'll bite. Who is he?"

"First of all, Stapleton didn't burn down your barn. He's still serving time. However, his half-brother, who mortgaged his land to defend Stapleton, lives down the road from you. His name is Cecil Slokum."

Now that was interesting. But there were plenty of do-wrongs out there with a grudge against him. "You think Slokum could be responsible?" Collin asked.

"Maybe. If Slokum can force you to pay damages for his daughter's ewe and destroy your barn at the same time, he not only gets revenge, he gets back some of the money he spent on his so-called innocent brother."

Collin had entertained the thought before, but a man didn't accuse his neighbor of arson without some kind of evidence. He'd also suspected Mitch of the fire and had lived to regret that mistake. Though his young friend was hanging around the farm once more, Collin could feel a hesitancy in the relationship, as though Mitch feared Collin would turn on him again.

"You got evidence?"

"Circumstantial, but enough to strongly suspect."

Collin's jaw tightened. Though he wanted to grab Cecil Slokum by the neck and shake the truth out of him, he wouldn't. He wasn't that kind of cop.

"Where do we go from here? Anything we can bust him on?"

"I've turned my findings over to the fire marshal and the DA. If I'm right-" Adam's grin was cocky "-and I usually am, an arrest could come at any time."

"I appreciate it." Although sincere, Collin heard the gruffness in the thanks. He wasn't a lawyer and couldn't do the job Adam could, but he didn't like needing anyone's help either. More and more lately, Adam and Mia and the whole Carano clan made him feel needy. Inside and out. It kept him off balance, edgy, vulnerable.

"I can't believe I didn't figure out Cecil's grudge myself." In fact, he was annoyed that he hadn't dug deeper when the suspicion first sprouted. But work and Mitchell and rebuilding, not to mention Mia and his search, had kept him too busy to think straight.

"That's what friends are for, Collin. To lighten the load."

The words unmerited favor flitted through his mind. Was that what Mia meant? He'd thought a lot about that conversation, and the idea that anyone would do something for him without expecting anything in return never would jibe.

"How much do I owe you?" he asked.

Adam looked at him, an odd smile on his face. "My sister would hurt me if I took your money."

A cord of tension wound around inside him. Cool from drying sweat and November air, he shrugged into his hoodie. "I pay my debts."

"There are some debts you can't pay, Collin. The sooner you learn that the better off you'll be. The better off my sister will be, too."

Collin had no clue what Adam meant. And he didn't think he wanted to ask. Especially about the reference to Mia.

They were nearing his truck, and he needed this settled now. "How much, Carano?"

Adam rubbed a hand over his chin as if in deep thought. "Tell you what, Grace. If you really want to repay me, you can do me a favor."

"Name it."

Too late, Collin saw the ornery twinkle.

"Come to Mama's house for Thanksgiving dinner."

Maurice started to laugh. His partner knew his aversion to large family gatherings. He'd also been on Collin's case about Mia.

"I think he blindsided you, partner."

Adam shrugged his wide shoulders and didn't look the least bit sorry. "What do you expect? Lawyers are supposed to be sneaky." He pointed a finger at Collin. "You're going to show up, aren't you?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Actually, no." Then, with a laugh and a wave, Adam hopped into a sleek SUV and left him standing in the parking lot. To make matters worse, Maurice was still laughing.

Chapter Eleven.

Anticipation, sweeter than Christmas morning, filled Mia. She'd had so many failures, but today she felt sure something new would turn up in this stack of records.

With Mrs. Fielding's information, she had located the placement files of the family that had taken Drew after he'd run away from the Fielding home. Surely some mention of Collin's brother would be inside this folder.

She rummaged in her desk for a Snickers, but after a glance at her dusty hands, changed her mind. With the holidays coming up, she'd be fighting more than five pounds if she wasn't careful.

She flipped through page after page, eyes straining at the faded typewritten print until some of her excitement began to fade. The records seemed jumbled, bits and pieces of several files that might or might not relate to Collin's brothers. Then, as if lit by a neon sign, Drew's name leaped out at her.

"Yes!" she whispered, barely able to contain her excitement.

Collin knew she and Mama were praying for a breakthrough, and he'd been politely receptive, but Mia was ready for God to show off a little and prove to Collin that prayer really worked.

She quickly perused the document, found nothing of significance and decided to put the sheet aside while she searched for others. If there was one page about him, perhaps there would be more.

But when she reached the bottom of a rather thick file, two yellowing forms was all she had found. Disappointed, but not disheartened, she settled back to read, hoping for any tidbit to share with Collin.

One was a general report concerning the reasons Drew continued to live in foster care. There was a chronicle of his psycho-social problems, his habit of skipping school, and numerous reports for fighting. He'd been removed from any number of places because of the chip on his shoulder and his propensity for running away.

The other was a social worker's report indicating a placement in a therapeutic group home with six other teenage boys. Her heart fell into her high heels. Drew was fifteen at that point and had been in foster care since age seven. Gone was any hope that he had found a forever family.

She stopped to rub her tired eyes. Thirty was creeping closer and she'd always heard the eyes were the first to go. She needed to schedule a checkup with her optometrist-soon.

After jotting down names and addresses that might prove useful she started to replace the folder in the appropriate box when a newspaper clipping slipped out and filtered to the floor.

The word fire caught her attention. Her heart thumped once, hard. The reaction was silly, she told herself. A newspaper article about a fire wasn't necessarily about Drew.

But the clipping had been in the same file.

Unable to shake the foreboding, Mia picked up the two-inch column and read. A fire had broken out in a foster home claiming the lives of several teens, though no names were mentioned.

Dread, heavy as a grand piano, came over her. The address matched one of the homes that had cared for Drew. And the timing was perfect.

She rifled through the box, hoping to find something more about the tragedy but came up empty. Finally, she rested her chin in her hand and stared at the clipping, unsure of what to do with this new information. Should she tell Collin right away? Or keep the clipping to herself until she could verify whether Drew had been in that fire?

She rubbed at her eyes again. This time they were moist.

Collin stood in the doorway watching Mia. Deeply focused on her work, she hadn't heard him come in.

Her dark auburn hair swung forward, brushing her cheek, grazing the top of her desk. He studied her, remembering the silkiness of that hair, the softness of her skin.

He couldn't escape the memory of that night. Especially that insane moment when he'd kissed her and she'd kissed him back. More than once, he'd been tempted to repeat the performance, but caution won out. She pretended nothing incredible had happened. So would he. But that didn't stop him thinking about it.

Her mouth was turned down tonight, unusual for Mia. She rubbed at the corner of one eye and sighed. She was tired.

Her regular workload was always heavy and she was involved in church and the community, but for the past few months, she had been committed to helping him and Mitch. In her spare time, if there was such a thing, she searched the records for his brothers. In the evenings, she was now an active participant, along with Mitch, in rebuilding the barn. He'd asked too much of her.

He was suddenly overcome with a fierce need to take the load off her shoulders. To cheer her up. To make her laugh. Mia had a great laugh.

"Got a minute?"

Mia jumped and slapped one hand over her heart. Her red-rimmed eyes widened. "Collin."

"Didn't mean to scare you." He stepped inside the small office.

"What's wrong?" She didn't smile her usual wide, happy welcome.

"Why does anything have to be wrong?" Man, she was pretty, even with her hair mussed and her eyes red and every bit of makeup rubbed away.