"No, it's not okay. This has already generated a lot of malicious gossip, especially since it's the brainchild of Simon's a.s.sistant, who we all know is a pervert. You will not partic.i.p.ate, is that clear?"

"I'm thirty-one years old. I make my own-"

Simon interrupted. "Uncle Ryan, I'm going to b.u.t.t in. I take exception to you calling Angel a pervert."

Holy G.o.d, this had gotten really out of hand if Simon felt the need to b.u.t.t in. But Angel Menendez was Simon's friend in addition to being his employee.

Dad's face began to turn red. "You should fire that man. I don't like the fact that he's Charlotte's main caregiver. I can point out sections of the Bible that-"

Simon held up his hand. "Don't quote the Bible. I've heard it before. I'm just saying that if you quit spouting scripture and look at what Angel does every day for Mother you might change your mind. Angel is a kind, good, talented person. Mother likes him. And you, Uncle Ryan, have your head up your b.u.t.t."

Simon delivered his speech and Charlene's wine gla.s.s, then sauntered back across the room to where his wife and Cousin Rachel were sitting. Each of them looked utterly dumbfounded at what Simon had said.

"Daddy, let's drop it, okay?"

"You partic.i.p.ate in this obscene fund-raiser, and I'll-"

"For heaven's sake, Ryan, please." Aunt Millie cut Daddy off before he said something ugly. Millie stood, scooping up the baby with her. She balanced Upton on her hip and stepped between Charlene and her father. "It's a birthday party, y'all. Let's not argue. And Ryan, don't make threats you don't mean."

Thank goodness Millie didn't mention the one time when Daddy had threatened to cut Charlene off. Charlene had believed that threat. She'd been all of nineteen, and she'd taken the coward's way out. She should have followed Cousin Simon's lead and walked away from her mother and father when they'd bullied her.

Simon had stayed away for eighteen years. But she lacked her cousin's courage. She couldn't imagine living anywhere except Last Chance. Although, to be truthful, she had sustained her rebellion against them for years and years. She almost enjoyed annoying them now. Which wasn't very mature.

Especially since she loved them, warts and all. She wanted them to love her back, without making that love conditional on her staying in line and doing as they bid.

"Happy birthday, Daddy," Charlene said in her most contrite voice, getting up on tiptoes and giving him a quick peck on the cheek. She pulled her peace offering out of her purse. "Here, I found you a terrific present."

She handed him the wrapped pen, which he immediately handed off to Mother. "Put this with the others," he commanded, and Mother did as she was told. He drained his bourbon, turned on his heel, and headed off to the bar for another one.

CHAPTER.

9.

On Monday morning, Mike got Rainbow up at seven in the morning, fed her the obligatory cold pizza, and got her ready for her first day at summer camp.

He had learned that the kid had trouble making transitions from one thing to the next. And leaving the house was hard for her. Rainbow hated being separated from her cat.

So Mike had been telling her all weekend that summer camp started on Monday and that she couldn't bring Tigger. This morning he used another trick that had worked on Friday and Sat.u.r.day. He'd found an old-fashioned egg timer in Miss Spalding's kitchen. He set it for ten minutes and told Rainbow that she had until the timer chimed to say good-bye to Tigger.

When the timer went off, she complained but she didn't throw a tantrum. So, when they ran into Dr. Polk on the landing, Rainbow behaved like an angel.

This time, Charlene gave Rainbow a big, wide smile, and the kid almost returned it. Charlene squatted down and asked Rainbow where she was heading so early in the morning. Rainbow surprised the c.r.a.p out of Mike by saying the words. "Summer camp."

Mike's insides melted. This moment made everything crystal clear. Rainbow needed Charlene. Now, if he could just figure out a way to make Charlene fall in love with Timmy it would be perfect.

Charlene stood up and Mike's warm, melty feelings morphed into something else entirely. Today the curvy vet wore a pair of tight jeans and a little T-shirt and her big rubber boots. The boots were clean this morning.

For some reason he couldn't quite fathom, she looked hotter than a chili in that outfit. But these work clothes also conveyed a sense of quiet competence. She had a refreshingly pure and genuine aura about her. You didn't find women like this on the Vegas Strip.

"Good morning," he said in a friendly voice, resolving to undo the damage he'd done the last few days. She'd definitely poked him in his most vulnerable spot with her questions and her suspicions when they first met. But he needed to get over that. She had a big heart-the kind that could give Rainbow everything she needed.

"Morning," she said. An awkward silence stretched out for several seconds. He should retreat now, before he said something stupid.

"Okay, kiddo, we gotta go," he said as he gave Rainbow's shoulder a little squeeze. "Summer camp awaits."

"Have fun, sweetie," Charlene said.

Rainbow shrugged away Mike's hand and rushed to Charlene. The hug lasted mere seconds before the kid turned away and skipped down the rest of the stairs.

"Hey, kiddo, wait for me before you cross the parking lot," Mike said as he followed after Rainbow. He looked over his shoulder for an instant. "Have a nice day," he said to Charlene. It was lame, but it wasn't hostile so he counted it as progress.

Fifteen minutes later, he and Rainbow arrived at the Methodist church only to find things on the chaotic side. There were kids everywhere, ranging in age from five to twelve, and all of them seemed to have arrived before Mike and Rainbow. The sheer number of campers immediately overwhelmed Rainbow. She leaned into him and clung against his side.

Mike figured Rainbow had never been in day care, and she was too young for kindergarten. So this situation had to be pretty scary, especially since she didn't know a single soul.

They were directed to one of the Sunday school cla.s.srooms filled with nine five-year-olds. The minute they walked into the room, Rainbow must have realized that Mike intended to leave her there, so the clinging intensified. She wrapped herself around Mike's legs and wouldn't let go.

That same strange melty feeling a.s.saulted his gut. He pried her arms from around his legs and left her crying in her awful, silent way. He was a louse and a jerk and had no business taking care of a kid.

He might have rethought the whole summer camp thing right there except that the camp counselor, who looked like a teenager, told him that Rainbow would be fine. But leaving her there made him feel like c.r.a.p. And even when he got back to the apartment and fired up his computer to get in some day trading, the look on Rainbow's face haunted him.

He struggled not to make comparisons between Rainbow and Angie. But he failed.

He had wanted to stay with Angie, too. But Richard, Mom's boyfriend of the moment, had been a mean sonofab.i.t.c.h. Mike had to get out. He'd chosen to save himself, instead of his little sister.

He would have to live with that for the rest of his life.

He set up his laptop on the kitchen table and tried to get some work done. He had an email from Rachel Sanger, Rainbow's caseworker in Chicago. She let him know that a private investigator had given her a call. Apparently the guy was working for Timmy and checking out Mike and Rainbow's story. So that was a good thing. Timmy was coming around.

Ms. Sanger also told him that she was trying to solve the mystery of the telephone number on Tigger's name tag. Mike didn't care one way or another about Tigger's past. But Ms. Sanger was a cat lover and seemed all concerned that someone in Chicago was missing their pet.

He looked at the cat, who had made herself comfortable on the tabletop where he'd set up his computer. "You're a lucky cat," he said. She gave him a strange, half-lidded stare.

If he lived to be a hundred, Mike was never, ever going to be a cat person. Especially after the demon animal spent the day right beside him giving him the feline equivalent of the evil eye. The message was clear. Tigger didn't like him. Not one bit.

The U.S. markets closed at four p.m., and he decided to call it a day. It was time to get to work on his plan to match up Timmy and Charlene. And the first thing he needed was information.

And what better place to begin his research than the Kountry Kitchen cafe? In his experience, the waitresses at local cafes always had the straight skinny on everything. Besides, he could go for a cup of coffee and a slice of pie.

Fifteen minutes later, he found himself seated at the lunch counter, where Flo, the waitress, greeted him bearing a coffee urn and a crockery mug.

"Hey, there, Mike. You want coffee?" She gave him a big smile and batted her eyes. He and Flo had hit it off almost from the moment he had entered the cafe on Friday afternoon. Of course the Kountry Kitchen didn't serve pizza, so Rainbow went hungry that lunchtime. But Mike had enjoyed a pretty good barbecue sandwich. Not to mention the coffee and pie.

Mike had honed his waitress-flirting skills on the Vegas Strip. He put them to good use now. "Bring it on, Flo."

Flo giggled like a girl as she poured his coffee. "I declare, Mike, you're like a breath of fresh air."

"Thanks, but I think Last Chance has more fresh air than any other place I've ever been."

"You probably have that right. I'm sure our air is fresher than Vegas. But folks around here get into an awful rut. And you don't strike me as that kind. Besides, I always did have a weakness for ramblers and gamblers, if you know what I mean."

"Uh-huh, I know."

"So I heard Rainbow is at summer camp today."

He shook his head in wonder. "Now how did you know that?"

"Because Elsie Campbell and the gals from the Altar Guild were in here this morning, and Pastor Tim and Rainbow have become their main topic of conversation. I heard she's going to counseling with Dr. Newsome, too."

"There isn't much you don't know, is there?"

"I'm not really a gossip, you know," she said in a near whisper. "It's just an occupational hazard that I end up hearing stuff. How's it going with Rainbow? She eating anything?"

"She eats pizza, and that's it. I've tried hamburgers, barbecue, chicken nuggets, and French fries. But all she'll eat is pizza. Things are getting better, though. Charlene Polk came by on Sat.u.r.day night and read her a story. Rainbow spoke to Charlene that night. Just a word or two. And she said something this morning."

Flo leaned her hip into the counter. "Charlene is a sweetie."

He had Flo thinking exactly what he wanted her to think. And if he didn't say anything else, Flo would probably tell the world that Charlene had come over to his house on Sat.u.r.day night. And that would get the church ladies going in entirely the wrong direction. But, oddly, this was exactly the opening he needed to begin his matchmaking campaign. "Flo," he said in his most earnest voice, "I need your advice."

Flo leaned a little closer, no doubt expecting him to admit that he had the hots for the shapely little vet, which was sort of true, but he planned to ignore that.

"What is it, honey?" Flo asked.

"I was thinking that Timmy is single and Charlene is single and, well I feel as if the two of them would be perfect parents for Rainbow. The truth is Dr. Polk seems to have bonded with the kid, you know?"

"Really?" The surprised look on her face was priceless. But the hook was set.

"She has," Mike said in an earnest tone. "She even made Rainbow smile. I've been with the kid for days, and she hasn't smiled once for me. I'm no good at parenting, Flo. I think Charlene would be great at it."

"I'm sure Charlene will make a fine mother one day. But, honey, I hate to disappoint you. It will be a cold day in July when Charlene Polk and Reverend Tim Lake get together."

"Really? Why?"

"Because she's an Episcopalian and he's a Methodist."

It was as if Flo had pulled a fifth ace out of her sleeve. "Flo, aren't those two Christian denominations?"

"I guess, but the Methodists are a whole lot more Protestant than the Episcopalians are."

He frowned.

The waitress leaned a little closer. "Honey, in these parts people take their religion very seriously. It would be odd for the Methodist minister to marry an Episcopalian, although I imagine there would be fewer potential conflicts of interest if he were to court someone from another church. You see, it's usually considered bad form for a minister to actually date a member of his own church. Although I reckon Bill Ellis did that when he ran off with Hettie Marshall. But that was kind of different because those two never dated, you know. They just kind of danced around each other for a while."

Mike made no reply, because Flo had managed to confuse the c.r.a.p out of him. Life in a small town was way more complex than he had first thought. Luckily, Flo didn't seem to care if she'd confused him. She carried on with her gossip.

"Of course, the Altar Guild members are in a real hot hurry to help your brother find a wife, but they are convinced that Sabina Grey is the woman for the job."

"I know. I've spoken with Elsie."

"Have you really?"

"Yes, I have. I've also spoken with Sabina, and I don't think that match is going to work. Besides, I need to think about Rainbow. And Rainbow really likes Charlene."

Flo gave him a long look. "I reckon it might work. But it would be mighty unusual." She paused for a moment as if gathering her breath. "If you really want to try to match up your brother with someone, you need to talk to Miriam Randall."

"Who's she?"

"The local matchmaker."

"You have a matchmaker? Isn't that a bit old-fashioned?"

"You see, Miriam isn't your regular kind of matchmaker. She's got some kind of supernatural gift or something. She can spot when two people belong together, like soulmates, you know?"

No, he didn't know, but that didn't matter. What mattered was what Flo believed. Perception was always reality; that's why he was so good at bluffing. "I never heard of such a thing," he said.

"It's true, every word. This town believes that whoever Miriam matches up stays matched forever. But it isn't always easy, you know, on account of the fact that she doesn't really match people; she just gives marital advice."

"Marital advice, what do you mean?"

Flo topped off Mike's coffee. "Miriam is sort of like a fortuneteller. I mean she'll tell folks what sort of person they should be looking for. Or sometimes she'll tell someone that their soulmate is coming on the nine-thirty bus from Atlanta. That's what she did with Clay and Jane."

"I see." But he didn't.

"So if you want to find out if Tim should be looking at Charlene, I suggest you pay Miriam a visit. She might be helpful. But you're going to have to do something about the denominational barrier. And then there's the fact that Charlene is sweet on Dr. Dave. And if she can persuade him to partic.i.p.ate in the bachelor auction, she's probably going to buy him."

Uh-oh, that was a problem. Charlene had a boyfriend? "Uh, what's the bachelor auction you're talking about?"

"Oh that's a fund-raiser that the animal lovers in town are holding in a couple of weeks to benefit the Allenberg County Animal Shelter." She stepped back a pace. "And honey, I'm figuring it's only a matter of time before Angel or Wilma or Charlene ask you to donate an evening of your time."

"What?"

"You know, to be auctioned off for charity."

Before Mike could ask any further clarifying questions, a group of teens came through the front door, bringing a lot of noise and activity with them. Flo became a busy woman taking orders for milkshakes and cherry c.o.kes.

Mike had to leave the cafe to pick up Rainbow. So he didn't get another chance to question the waitress. It was okay, though. He had enough to begin his campaign. And the first step would be finding Miriam Randall.