"Go," she said again.

He gave her a little smile, then stacked up the plates on the table and walked them back to the kitchen. As he passed back through the bar, he said, "Paige said help yourself to the sofa, or if you're tired and you want to lie down, their bedroom is on the ground floor and you're welcome to it."

Tired? She might die of boredom, but she wasn't tired at all. She just smiled and nodded, waving him out the door. Becca was used to a very active lifestyle-chasing seven-year-olds combined with lots of sports from surfing to skiing. The last time she watched Oprah, she was home sick with the flu. The time before that, she was home sick with a broken heart.

She pulled herself up and with her crutches, hobbled through the kitchen door. Inside, busy with lunch and cleanup, was the Middleton family-Paige rolling out dough for pies, Preacher-or John, as Paige called him-scraping plates and filling the dishwasher, and little Dana in her high chair, messing around with Play-Doh.

"Are you absolutely sure?" Becca asked when Paige smiled at her.

"Absolutely. There are some DVDs if there's nothing on TV that interests you. Check out the bookcase-you might not be interested in John's military history but I have some fun stuff there. And please don't hesitate to use the phone or our bed, for that matter, if you want to lie down for a proper nap. When I'm done here, I'm going to put Dana down for her nap. She needs a good two hours to be pleasant for dinner!"

"Will the TV bother her?" Becca asked.

"Not in the least. She's a great little napper."

"Thanks. I really appreciate this. Denny doesn't have a TV or anything in his little apartment. He probably doesn't spend too much time there."

Paige laughed. "He's a very busy guy. Not only does he work for the farm and around here, he's always offering to help anyone who needs something."

This time when Becca walked into the Middleton house from the kitchen entrance, she noticed how perfect it was designed. She walked through a spacious laundry room that undoubtedly serviced the bar and the family. To her left was a kitchen that was more of a serving center, complete with cupboards, dishwasher, refrigerator, sink, countertops and a pass-through to a dining room. But there were no stoves or ovens because the bar kitchen was just steps away. Just opposite the serving station and dining room was the master bedroom and bath, and beyond that the great room, complete with entertainment center, fireplace, locked gun rack and open staircase that led to a loft. The kids' rooms must be up there-she could see a few toys scattered around. There was a door to the backyard from the great room. She peeked outside and saw a wooden jungle gym, slide and sandbox. To the far right, more behind the bar than the house, was a big brick barbecue and some picnic tables.

She paused in front of the bookcase in the entertainment center and found some old friends-Jill Shalvis, Kristan Higgins, Deanna Raybourn, Toni Blake. She pulled one out, tossed it across the room and followed it, causing the sleepy Comet to jump in surprise. "Sorry," she said to the dog. The remote was easier-it was right on the side table. She got her leg propped up on the ottoman, gave Comet an apologetic pat on the head, turned on the TV to an afternoon talk show with the volume down, book in her lap, and thought again about what Paige had said. Denny's a pretty busy guy. He helps anyone who asks....

He had a full-time job, even if he did say the farm wasn't too busy this time of year. And he helped Jack around the bar all the time-that was probably a part-time job. And that was the Denny she had known and missed-the guy who was the friend you could depend on if you needed something.

He wasn't going to be available to entertain her all the time, to keep her busy and her mind off the fact that she was bored out of her skull. She leaned back against the leather couch cushions and thought yet again, Oh, man, this is going to be so tedious! What was she supposed to do for two weeks? Watch daytime TV and reread her favorite romances? Nap? How in the world was she supposed to nap? She wasn't the least bit tired. All she'd done for twenty-four hours was sit around with her foot up!

And that was the last conscious thought she had for a while. When she opened her eyes again, she blinked a couple of times. It was a different talk show and she had slumped down on the couch. There was a kid sitting on the sofa next to her. His backpack was on the floor and he was petting his dog.

"Did I wake you up?" he asked. "Because my mom said to be quiet."

"No. No, not at all," she said, pushing herself upright a little.

"I think you got a little drool there on your mouth."

"Oh, Jesus," she said, wiping her mouth. Sure enough.

"Oh, that's okay. My mom does that all the time."

"Does she? I bet you're Chris."

"Yup. And you're Becca. What kind of name is Becca?"

"Short for Rebecca," she said. "Are you just getting home from school?"

"Yup. And I have chores and homework. I'm not allowed to have TV on after school till the chores and homework are done."

Becca fished around the couch until she came up with the remote and flicked off the TV. "That's very smart of your mom. Mind if I ask about the chores? Like what kind?"

"I get the trash together, but my dad takes it out because the Dumpster is too tall for me. Sometimes I fold the napkins for the bar and when no one is sleeping on the couch, I run the vacuum around-Comet's hairy. I have to let Comet out-I did that part already. My bed's made-I did it this morning before the bus came. But I always look at my homework first, before the chores. Except Comet-he really needs to get outside right away."

Becca liked that. "What kind of homework?"

"Math, spelling and reading. I worked on the spelling on the bus a little, but everyone was rowdy so I'm gonna have to do it again. I have to use my whole brain for the math. And I'm already good at reading."

She smiled at him. "How old are you?"

"Seven. I'm in second grade."

"Boy, do I have a surprise for you," she said. "I'm a second-grade teacher."

"In real life?" he asked.

"In real life. In my pretend life I'm a girl with a broken ankle."

"From jumping out of the truck without looking where you were going?" he asked.

"Something like that."

"Denny came back from hunting with a dead duck. He gave it to my dad and went down to his place for a shower. After he looked at you sleeping. He said if you woke up to tell you he'd be back when he smelled better."

Her first thought was that he'd seen her drooling. "Nice," she said.

"So he's like your boyfriend or something?"

Becca thought about this for two seconds or less before changing the subject. "Since I'm a teacher and everything, want me to work on your homework with you? We could do math or spelling or you could read to me."

"I like to read to myself, but I could use a little help with the math. We're doing multiplying, which is like adding over and over and over."

"In second grade?"

"Some of us got ahead of ourselves."

"Totally. Where do you normally do your homework?"

"At the table over there."

"Let's go."

"You gonna use your crutches and everything?"

"Uh-huh," she said, dragging herself to her feet. "I have to put my leg up on a chair, so can I have the end, please?"

"Oh, yeah. Sure. You gonna do it by yourself?"

She balanced on her crutches. "Wait till you see how good I am at this." She swung her way across the room, pulled out a couple of chairs, got situated and hoisted her leg up. "Ready for math!"

"You act like you like homework or something," he said.