Jim paused, and Kara saw him notice that his son was having trouble negotiating the lawn on those crutches. He hunkered down. "How about a piggyback ride?"

"I can do it, Dad." Tyler seemed a little miffed at his dad for offering to help him. He continued moving over the grass, but it was clearly an effort. His little face was getting red.

"At least let me hold on to your arm, Ty."

"No, Dad." The boy sounded impatient now.

Kara moved a few steps ahead of him and then she deliberately tripped in a hole and fell.

"Kara!" Jim was beside her in an instant, leaning over her, his face full of concern. "You okay?"

"I don't know. I hurt my ankle. Darn." She looked up at him, and with her face hidden from Tyler's, she winked. "Maybe I'm the one who needs to hold someone's hand out here, before I really get hurt."

She let Jim help her to her feet. Then she turned to Tyler. "Would it be okay if I held on to you, Ty?"

Tyler smiled. Dimples appeared in his cheeks and his eyes twinkled. "Sure. But maybe you better hold my dad's hand, too. I'm not for sure if I could catch you all by myself if you fall again."

She reached down and closed a hand around his upper arm. "Thank you, Tyler. You're a real hero."

Her gaze was tugged away from the boy's, though, when she felt Jim take her free hand. Jim met her eyes, and there was something tender in his. He squeezed her hand, gave her a nearly imperceptible nod of thanks. She smiled, and together they moved across the back lawn.

"See that big apple tree right there, Ty?" he asked his son.

Tyler nodded.

"That's where I used to have my tire swing. And over there, in that maple, that's where I had my tree house."

"You had a tree house?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"Wow!"

"Come here, there's something else about this tree-let me if it's still here...yep, there it is," he said, leading his son closer to the tree. He pointed and Tyler looked.

Kara looked, too.

"What's it say, Dad?"

Jimmy traced the heart-shaped carving with a forefinger. "It says J.C. plus question mark."

"Huh?"

"Your dad had so many girlfriends in high school," Kara said, "he probably didn't know whose initials to carve."

"Really?"

Jim sent Kara a smirk. And then Tyler said, "You went to school here, too, Dad said. Were you ever my dad's girlfriend, Kara?"

Jim's eyes held hers for a long moment. She looked away first. "No, Tyler, I wasn't."

"How come?"

She smiled down at him. "Did you ever hear the story of the ugly duckling, Ty?"

"No."

"Well, I'm going to tell it to you one of these days and then you'll understand. But in the meantime, why don't we go inside, see how you like the place, okay?"

"Okay!" He turned and started hobbling over the ground again but soon mounted the fieldstone patio that led right up to the back door, so the going was a bit easier for him.

Kara started forward, but Jim stopped her with a hand on her arm, and she turned to look up at him, half smiling at Ty and his silly questions. But her smile died when she saw the intensity in his eyes.

"You were never an ugly duckling, Kara Brand."

"Sure I was."

"No. No, I remember. You were shy. Painfully shy. A little unsure of yourself. Hiding behind all the hair your could grow and clothes you could disappear into."

"And too clumsy to make it down the hall without falling or crashing into somebody at least once a day."

He smiled. "I think it was more nervousness than clumsiness."

She shrugged. "Same result." She started to turn away.

He touched her cheek, turned her back to face him again. "The only thing you have in common with that duckling from the story is that you grew into a swan."

She lowered her head quickly, heat flooding her face. "Jimmy, you don't have to say that. I know I'm-" She stopped speaking because she'd lifted her eyes to his and seen that they were fixed on her lips. Almost as if...as if he were thinking about kissing her.

Jimmy Corona, thinking about kissing her.

Her knees buckled a little and she lost her balance, and had to grab on to his shoulders to keep from falling.

His hands closed on her waist and he steadied her. "Yep," he said. "Nervousness."

Then Tyler called to them to hurry up, and Jimmy turned her toward the house, keeping one hand on her arm as they walked onto the patio to join him.

"This is it, Angela. How do you like it?"

Angela tried to keep the tears from welling up in her eyes when she looked around the apartment. It was small, yeah, but it was light years better than the squalor in which she'd been living. It was a nice building in a nice neighborhood. It was a building her precious Vinnie owned lock, stock and barrel.

She stood in a tiny living area equipped with a love seat, chair, coffee table and clean carpeting. The walls were bare except for the entertainment center, which held a television set and cable box. The other shelves were empty.

"Bedroom's through there," he said, pointing. And she peered in. There was a bed and a dresser. One window draped in a white curtain. More of the same beige carpet. "Bathroom's off it. Closet-size. No room for a tub, just a shower. And the kitchen's right here." He pushed open a door and led her through. The fridge and range were half-size, and there was no room for a table, but two stools stood in front of the counter.

She didn't care. She turned to him and blinked through grateful tears. "I can't believe this. I can't believe you're doing this for me. God, Vinnie, I love you so much."

He shrugged. "There are rules, Ang. Don't think I won't throw you back into the gutter where I found you if you can't live with them."

She winced. He put a hand in her hair. "Much as I love you, kid, I can't afford to let you flush my reputation down the toilet."

She nodded. He might be known as a porn king, but he was a classy porn king. Wealthy. Well-dressed. "I know the rules," she promised. "This is a clean building."

"That's right. So you keep your dirt out of it. No drugs here, no johns. And I mean it, Angie, it's important."

She nodded. "I promise." She didn't suppose the gram she'd jammed in the back of the useless watch she'd picked out of the trash and gutted really counted. She wouldn't keep a lot of coke here. Just what she needed for a day at a time.

He nodded toward the bedroom. "I picked you up a few things. They're in the closet."

Blinking in shock, she spun and ran into the bedroom, opened the tiny closet not much bigger than a high school locker and started yanking hangers out of it. Blouses and skirts and jackets. And there were a few pairs of jeans stacked on the dresser nearby.

"Underthings are in the drawer. I'd have done shoes, but I didn't know your size, so I figure you can buy your own." He tossed a wad of cash on the bed. "Shoes, Angie. Not drugs."

She flung her arms around his neck and squeezed him hard. "You're like an angel, you know? You're like an angel to me."

"I'm far from an angel. Did you do what I asked? Hmm?"

She nodded. "I went up the fire escape just like you said. Smacked out the window. No alarm there. I didn't find much in his apartment, though." She yanked her shoulder bag from her arm and tipped it upside down on the bed. Began pawing through the contents. "This is all the mail he left out. The answering machine. And the notepad that was next to the phone."

Vinnie reached down, yanked up the stack of mail, flipped through it. "You didn't put the computer inside your purse, did you, doll?"

"He didn't have a computer in there. Not that I saw, anyway."

"Okay, okay." He tossed the stack of mail down and picked up the notepad. "Ah, there's a phone number on here." Yanking his cell phone out of his pocket, he dialed, then sat on the edge of the bed.

Angela sat down beside him, her ear pressing close to his to hear. She heard ringing, then a woman's voice. "Peabody's Boarding House," she said. "Can I help you?"

"Yes, I hope so. My wife and I have looked at so many places in trying to decide where to honeymoon." Vinnie glanced at Angela and her stomach turned soft as she smiled up at him. "Somehow I jotted down this number," he continued, "but I neglected to write the location beside it. I know it was one of our favorites, though."

"Well, now, don't fret about it. We're in a little town called Big Falls in the great state of Oklahoma."

"Of course," he said. "Now I remember. Thank you so much."

"You're more than welcome."

He hung up, pocketed the phone and looked at her. "Why would your ex be in Big Falls, Oklahoma?"

She sighed. "I should have known. It's where he grew up. He used to talk about it all the time, but he never went back before. At least, not as far as I know. I always thought he had some unhappy memories from there."

"Well. He may just get some more."

She frowned deeply, searching his face. But Vinnie ran a hand over her hair and sent her a wink. "You know I'm just teasing. You've done good for me, sweetie. You've done real good. And you can do even better."

"How?"

"Come with me to this Big Falls."

"Aw, Vinnie. I don't want Jim to think I'm harassing him. He's gonna get pissed and he's a cop, you know."

"I know. Believe me, I don't want to harass the police either. God knows I don't need to give them any more reasons to railroad me. But you always said Jim was a reasonable man. So maybe if I could just talk to him, reason with him, he'd understand what a terrible mistake is being made here."

She pursed her lips, lowered her head. "I don't know. I don't want...."

"What, honey?"

"I don't want you to do anything to hurt him. He's...he's all my baby boy has."

"Come on, Angie, you know me better than that. There's not a violent bone in my body, hon. I wouldn't hurt a fly. Just come down there with me, huh? Maybe you can help me talk to him. Make him see reason. This is my life on the line here. You know that."

Licking her lips, she nodded. What she really wanted was to settle into her new apartment, try on her new clothes, her new life. But she owed him. She had to help him if she could. "All right, Vin. I'll come with you."

Chapter 4.

Jim walked into the kitchen and got hit between the eyes with the past. For just an instant he could almost hear his mother's voice.

Jimmy! Come on inside, hon, dinner's ready!

He blinked back the rush of emotion and pressed a hand to the countertop for support.

"Jimmy? Are you okay?" Kara asked, her eyes on him rather than on the old-fashioned kitchen.

He looked at her, realized she'd called him Jimmy, just the way his mother had. No one else ever called him by his childhood name anymore. He'd missed it.

He nodded, then focused on the room again. Tongue-and-groove boards normally reserved for floors had been used as cupboard doors and stained a pale oak hue that went nicely with the yellow walls and tile floor, a checkerboard of yellow and mint-green. "It's almost the same."

Kara nodded as she looked around the kitchen. "I doubt Betty Lou saw much need to change it."

He moved his head from side to side, looking the place over more thoroughly. "No, she did," Jim said. "She changed it a bunch. It's nothing like it was when Dad and I lived here alone. It's like...it's like it was before Mom..."

"Ooh, Jimmy, I'm sorry. It didn't even occur to me how much this was going to bring flooding back for you."

He drew a breath as if it could steady him. "This was her color scheme." He said. "Dad couldn't be bothered. She'd been gone five years before he decided to repaint, and when he did, white was as easy as anything else. But Mom, she loved color. This sunny yellow." He moved to the windows, running one hand over the white casing. "She wanted the trim painted mint-green. Like those tiles in the floor. She used to talk about it all the time. If only she could get the casing painted mint-green and maybe find some ceramic knobs for the cupboard doors in that color, too, her life would just be perfect."

He smiled at the memory.

"I remember her," Kara said.

"Do you?"

She nodded. "I don't think she and Mama were friends or anything. Different worlds, you know?"