It wasn't going to happen. At least not yet. Elizabeth sighed as the two of them walked down the hall and out into the hot July sunshine.

It was just before lunch when Elizabeth returned to the office, a paper bag containing a low-fat Subway sandwich and a Diet c.o.ke gripped in one hand. She set the bag down on the desk just as her phone began to ring.

"Elizabeth? Hi, it's Carson. I just called to thank you for such an enjoyable evening."

"I enjoyed it, too, Carson."

"Good, then how about we do it again? I'm having a small dinner party at the house a week from this coming Sat.u.r.day. Representatives from a nominating committee a.s.sociated with the Republican Party. They'll be flying in with their wives. I thought you might enjoy meeting them. I know they'd like you."

So it was true. He was thinking of running for office. Elizabeth had never been interested in politics, aside from voting in the elections for whichever candidate she thought would do the best job. Still, it was a fairly high compliment to be included at such an event.

"That sounds like an interesting evening. I'm registered as an Independent. I hope that doesn't make a difference."

He laughed. It was a very deep, very masculine sound. "At least you're not a Democrat. I'll pick you up at 7:00 p.m."

Carson hung up and Elizabeth set the phone back down in its cradle. Carson was attractive and intelligent. They'd had a good time together at the benefit. But instead of Carson's image appearing in her mind, his brother's dark visage arose.

Zachary Harcourt had always been good-looking. At thirty-four, he looked even better than he had ten years ago. But there was something different about him now, something darker and harder. He was no longer a boy but a man, one who could take care of himself. He had been to prison, she knew, and it showed in the lines of his face.

She wondered again what he was doing out at Teen Vision and vowed to ask Carson about it the next time they were together.

It was Friday, the end of Raul's first week at Teen Vision. Elizabeth wanted to check on him and today she finally had time to take Sam up on his offer of a tour.

Parking her shiny, nearly new Acura in the dusty lot, she climbed out of the vehicle and started toward the main office building next to the dormitory. Sam must have seen her drive in. She had called ahead, so maybe he had been watching for her. He was grinning as he walked out the door, joining her before she'd gotten halfway to the office.

"I'm so glad you could come." He caught one of her hands between both of his and squeezed warmly.

"So am I. I should have come out a lot sooner."

"You didn't have a reason to be here. Not until Raul." He guided her back into the office and showed her around. "We have six full-time counselors. There are always at least two people on duty at any given time."

He showed her the desk each counselor was a.s.signed, pointed out the tiny bathroom in case she should need it, showed her the small conference room with its faux wood, Formica-topped table and dark-blue padded chairs, a place the counselors could have private discussions with the boys. Then he led her outside.

"Raul is out in the pasture. He's got a nice way with the animals."

"He has a very gentle side, though he does his best not to show it."

He took her into the dormitory building, showed her the TV lounge, and one of the shared rooms upstairs. "Each boy has a certain amount of privacy, but we don't allow any locked doors and we have random room inspections a couple of times a day."

The third building housed the dining hall, the main gathering place for the group. The kitchen was all stainless steel, immaculately clean, and she saw two of the boys in there working.

"We have a full-time cook, but the boys do the cleanup and help with food preparation. We rotate the tasks, so each boy spends an equal amount of time and doesn't get too bored."

"You're doing a wonderful job here, Sam."

He smiled, seemed pleased. They headed out to where the new barn was being constructed and as she looked at the group of boys pounding nails, framing the third wall of the barn, her steps unconsciously began to slow.

"What's Zachary Harcourt doing out here? I can't believe it's a good idea to have a man like that around impressionable young boys." Her gaze locked on his tall frame, shirtless today, his body sinewy and hard, muscles rippling as he pounded in another nail.

Sam followed her gaze and started to laugh.

"Why is that funny? Zachary Harcourt spent two years in state prison for manslaughter. He was drunk and high and he killed a man. From the look of his expensive clothes, he's still involved in something illegal."

Sam was still grinning. "I take it you aren't too fond of Zach."

She thought about the day he had embarra.s.sed her in front of the patrons in the cafe. How he had shoved her up against the wall outside and tried to kiss her. How he had run his hand up her leg, trying to get under her silly little pink uniform skirt. "Zachary Harcourt was never any good. I doubt that has changed."

The smile slid off Sam's face. "Why don't we walk over there in the shade? There are a few things about Teen Vision that you ought to know."

He led her in that direction, into the shade of a thick-trunked sycamore not far from the barn. "The Zachary Harcourt you knew years ago no longer exists. He died during those years he spent in prison. By the time he got out, another man had taken his place. That is the man you see working over there."

Her gaze swung in that direction. Zach's lean body glistened with sweat, outlining muscular ridges and valleys. He had amazingly wide shoulders that tapered to a narrow waist. A pair of worn jeans hung low on his hips and covered long legs undoubtedly as sinewy as the rest of him. She might not like Zach Harcourt, but she had to admit he had an incredibly beautiful body.

"Zach's been working here at least two weekends a month since the farm first started. He's dedicated to building Teen Vision. You see, Zachary is the man who founded it."

"What?"

"That's right. It's mostly supported now by donations, but in the beginning, Zach put up a great deal of his own money."

"But I thought Carson"

"That's the way Zach wants it. Carson is a highly respected, very important man in San Pico. With his backing, Teen Vision has grown faster than it ever would have without his help."

She looked back at Zach, who had turned and seemed to be staring directly at her. For an instant, her breath caught. She quickly looked away. "How did Zachary Harcourt come up with that kind of money?"

"Not the way you're thinking. When Zach was in prison, he began to study law. He'll be the first to admit he did it in the hope of beating the system. But he discovered it intrigued him and he was good at it and it got him to thinking. By the time he got out of jail, he had made up his mind to change his life. He went to work, got his law degree from Hastings, and pa.s.sed the bar exam. His father used his influence to help him get his conviction set aside. Zach's now a partner in n.o.ble, Goldman and Harcourt in Westwood, a very prestigious law firm."

Elizabeth mulled over the information, barely able to believe it. She glanced back toward the barn and saw Zach Harcourt walking toward them with those same long-legged strides she had noticed before. His eyes were fixed on her face and she felt that same oddly breathless sensation she had felt before.

Zach paused in front of them and a slow smile appeared on his lean, dark face. "Ms. Conners. Welcome to Teen Vision."

She tried to keep her gaze on his but it drifted down to his sweat-covered chest. A wide thatch of curly dark hair stretched across it, arrowing down into the waistband of his faded jeans. He was powerfully built, lean and hard-muscled. She forced herself to ignore an unwanted tingle of awareness.

"Sorry," Zach said, following the line of her gaze. "I didn't realize we were going to have company. I'll go get my shirt."

Elizabeth fixed her eyes on his face. "Don't bother on my account. I've got to get going shortly. I just came by for a tour and to say h.e.l.lo to Raul."

Zach turned and looked out toward the pasture. "I'll go get him."

"I'll go," Sam said. "I want to talk to Pete for a minute and the two of them are together."

"Pete?" she repeated as Sam walked away.

"Pedro Ortega. He prefers to be called by his American name. He and Raul have struck up a tentative friendship."

"He's a good boy Raul, I mean."

"Kind of surly. A little bit rough around the edges, but they all are when they first get here."

"Raul is different. He's special."

One of his dark eyebrows arched. "If he's won you over, he must be."

"What does that mean?"

"It means you were always smart and even back in high school you had a way of seeing people for what they really were. I know that from personal experience."

She felt the heat creeping into her face. "That was a long time ago."

"I owe you an apology for the way I behaved that day at the cafe. I wasn't a very nice person back then."

"But you are now?"

He smiled, a flash of white in his handsome face. "I like to think so."

"I like what you're doing for these boys."

"I was one of them once."

Her gaze lit on the tattoo on his left arm, a coiled snake with the words Born To Be Wild tattooed in red below the image.

"I thought about having it removed," he said. "But I left it there to remind myself how different my life might have turned out."

Elizabeth eyed him with suspicion. Zach talked a good game, but Carson didn't seem to trust him and she wasn't about to leap to conclusions.

"Here comes Raul," she said, relieved to see the boy walking toward them, thick-chested and broad-shouldered, as tall as Sam but weighing a good deal more. "It's been nice talking to you."

"I still owe you for that day at the cafe. Maybe sometime you'll let me make it up to you."

Not likely. "Sorry, I'm afraid my schedule is really full, but thanks for the offer."

Zach's mouth inched up at the corner. "I remember now what it was I liked about you, Elizabeth Conners. You're not afraid to tell it like it is."

Elizabeth made no reply. She'd been cautious in high school. After Brian, she was far more cautious now. Turning to Raul, she led him over to a picnic table in the shade of another tree and they sat down and started talking.

She was glad to see the boy, glad to hear the enthusiasm that remained in his voice. Only once did her mind stray from the conversation to the dark, mysterious man who had returned to his work on the barn.

Five.

The results of Maria's CAT scan came in on Monday. A phone call from Dr. Zumwalt's office relayed the news that there was no sign of lesions, hemorrhaging, a tumor or any other abnormality. They could do more testing, of course, but the doctor strongly believed the problem was mental, not physical.

"So you'll call Mrs. Santiago with the news?" Elizabeth asked the office nurse. A perk of her job as a family counselor was cooperation from the medical community. She had wanted to know if there was a problem so that she could be there with Elizabeth if the results came back positive.

"I'll call her right away." The woman hung up the phone and Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief. The feeling was short-lived. Whatever was wrong with Maria had not gone away. At least it appeared to be psychological, not physical. She hoped Dr. James would be able to help.

As soon as Michael's patient left the office, Elizabeth went in to see him. "No brain tumor," she said simply, having kept the doctor up to date on the Santiago girl's progress and gaining his agreement to help if necessary.

"I've got a cancellation this afternoon. See if she can come in around three o'clock."

"Thanks, Michael."

He raked a hand through his sandy hair. "I like the Santiagos. They're hardworking, really good people. I know it hasn't been easy for them."

Not for Maria, married at fifteen, or Raul, who'd been in and out of trouble for years. "No, it hasn't. I'll see if she can come in."

Driving her husband's battered old blue Ford pickup, Maria arrived that afternoon right on time. Elizabeth walked into the reception room to greet her and they sat down on the dark brown leather sofa. The area was small but cozy, with an overstuffed chair that matched the sofa, an oak coffee table and an end table with a shiny bra.s.s lamp. A stack of magazines sat on the coffee table: Redbook, Better Homes and Gardens and a couple of tattered issues of Family Circle.

"How are you feeling?" Elizabeth asked Maria, who sat with her hand cupped protectively over her belly.

"I am fine, a little tired, is all." She looked pretty today, in pink slacks and a pink-striped maternity blouse, her black hair drawn back into a single long braid.

"Sleeping any better?"

Maria sighed. "If you are asking if I have heard any more voices, no, I have not. Besides, Miguel has been home in the evenings before it is time for bed."

"Well, at least you've been able to sleep. Let's see what Dr. James has to say about what's been going on."

Maria stood up from the sofa. "Will you will you come in with me?"

"I think the doctor would rather talk to you alone."

"Please?"

Elizabeth looked up to see Michael James standing in the doorway.

"It's all right, Maria. If Ms. Conners is free, she is welcome to sit in for a while."

Maria cast a hopeful glance at Elizabeth, who nodded, and all three of them went into the doctor's office. The women sat down in front of his desk and Michael took a seat in the leather chair on the opposite side. He slid a pair of tortoisesh.e.l.l reading gla.s.ses up on his nose and scanned the information in the manila folder on the desktop.

When he finished, he took the gla.s.ses off and set them down on his desk. "Let me start by saying that Ms. Conners has told me a little about what you've been experiencing, Maria. I'm sure it's been very disconcerting."

Maria glanced at Elizabeth and the doctor realized she didn't understand the word.

"I'm sure it's been extremely upsetting," he said. "Having an experience like that is bound to be difficult."

Maria nodded. "Si. I have been very frightened." She gripped her hands tightly in front of her.

"Before we get into a more serious discussion, let's start with something simple. I have two brief tests I'd like to give you. Just answer each question honestly, yes or no, then we'll see where we are."

She nodded, seemed to brace herself. For the next fifteen minutes, the doctor asked questions from the first sheet of paper he picked up, questions that would reveal symptoms of depression.