message."

A deep growl sounded in her chest as she set her purse down on the counter. "Tell me, what did she say?"

"We talked-"

"About what?"

"This and that. You know she always liked me."

"Great. You get a gold star. Now what was her message?"

"The weather's beautiful in Wyoming this time of year."

Her shoulders came back. "That's all she said? And what are you doing with the screwdriver?"

"I believe her exact words were, 'Tell my little Kate that there are plenty of hot men in this cool climate.' Suzanne had mentioned Mary Beth moved out west." He walked over to the back door. "The hinges on the screen are loose. I'm going to tighten them before they pull out all the way."

Kate gave an unladylike snort. "My guess is that my sister said something along the lines that our mother had to leave Texas because she ran out of marriageable men in the entire state-which my mother has just proved with her message." She glanced over at the hinges. "You don't have to do that. You're a guest. I'll call a handyman."

"As long as I'm here, no need."

"Jesse Chapman." She couldn't help her smile. "Golfer extraordinaire and good with tools. Who knew?"

"And don't you forget it." He chuckled deeply and reached up to the top hinge, his stance slightly parted. His triceps flexed with each turn of the screw. "Your mother asked me to pass the message along to Suzanne as well. I got the feeling that Mary Beth didn't want to call Darling Daughter Number One herself." He moved to the next screw. "They never did see eye to eye, as I recall. Though I guess there were a lot of people who didn't understand your mother."

Kate knew what he said was true, and deep down she agreed. But this was her mother, and instantly she felt defensive. "She has a creative spirit and she needs to be free to create."

He dropped his arms and turned back. He surprised her when he reached out and ran his finger down one of her long curls, round and round, slowly, hypnotically. When he stopped, he touched her, tilting her chin until she met his gaze. Sensation raced through her, settling low, flaring when his eyes drifted to her mouth. The world around them seemed to disappear. She felt disconnected from everything but this man, floating in a dream like madness sought. Which was exactly what wanting Jesse Chapman was. Madness.

"She doesn't deserve you, Katie, never has. Mary Beth's a flake. A great flake, no question, but nonetheless-"

"A flake."

"You got it."

"If you are so reproving-"

Abruptly, he dropped his hand. After a second, his teasing smile resurfaced and he returned his attention to finishing off the hinge. "You must have had a rough day. You've dragged out the big words. Where's the dictionary?"

"Amusing, Mr. 4.0."

"3.8. I got a Bin Spanish."

"That's right," she teased. "Your attempt to date Senorita Gonzalez didn't work out."

The last top screw didn't want to go in. His concentration focused as he undid it, straightened it, then screwed it home.

"It didn't, did it?" she gasped with a half laugh.

"Let's just say that I probably deserved a C. I never was all that good at conjugating verbs."

"No, you just like conjugating."

He glanced over his shoulder. "Did you just tell a joke?"

She might have growled.

He laughed softly. "I like it when you get all hot and bothered."

"I am not hot, and I am certainly not bothered."

"Sure you are." He secured the last screw on top, then squatted to do the same to the bottom.

A horn sounded outside. Neither of them did anything about it until it sounded again. Curious, Kate walked through the house and went to the front door, peering out the window.

A car had pulled up in the drive, and Kate recognized Madge Lehman's sedan. Kate opened the door.

"Hi, Kate!"

"Hi, Madge."

No one said another word, though Kate could tell her neighbor was waiting expectantly for something.

"I came to pick up Lena."

Belatedly, Kate remembered Travis.

"Oh, well. . . just a second, Madge."

Kate turned around. Jesse was there.

"Travis already met someone in the neighborhood?" she asked.

"If so, I'm not aware of it. Plus, he's at Suzanne's."

They glanced to the side and saw an unfamiliar backpack sitting in the foyer next to one they both

recognized as belonging to Travis.

"Are you sure he's at Suzanne's?"

"I just got here right before you did." Jesse's brow furrowed.

"Oh, great. He must be here. In the house. Alone with little Lena, unsupervised."

Deep down, she knew she was overreacting. But she wasn't a parent, didn't have that ease mothers and fathers learned over long years of adjusting to their kids' behavior. She was new at this, and there was a real parent sitting outside thinking her child was here, safe, sound, and no doubt supervised.

Jesse didn't look any happier about the situation than she felt.

They darted through the house, finding no sign of Travis. But when they came to his bedroom, the door was shut, and they could hear the radio playing. Kate froze, panic flaring. "What do you think they're doing? He is your son, after all. I wonder if sexual precociousness is genetic."

Jesse swore, then clicked open the door to find Travis and a girl about his same age kneeling by the side of the bed.

"Are they praying?" Kate whispered.

"He better be praying," Jesse bit out.

"This one's really good," Lena said, tilting her head to get a better view.

"Yeah, maybe." Travis flipped a page of not a Bible, but rather a glossy magazine.

"But this one's better."

"Says who?" Lena demanded with a scoff.

"Says ... I don't know. It just is. Guys are much better golfers. Everyone knows that."

Lena leaped up, planting her hands on her hips. "You're such a toad. Guys are not better."

"Toad? You're calling me a toad?"

"What's going on here?" Jesse demanded, his tone accusing.

Not textbook-perfect parenting technique-even Kate knew that-but it got the kids' attention.

Travis and Lena whirled around.

Lena waved. "Hi, Miss Bloom!"

"Hi, Jesse!" Travis said. "You're home! Are we going to do a father-son thing now?"

"What do you two think you're doing?" Jesse asked crossly.

The girl's smile evaporated. "Ah, maybe I should go," she stuttered. "See ya later, Travis."

She bolted for the door and was out of the house before they could say another word.

Kate, Jesse, and Travis stood staring at one another.

"You're supposed to be at Suzanne's," Jesse stated.

Travis shrugged. "I got bored. When she got on the phone, I went for a walk. That's when I met Lena. She's really cool and she helped me come up with a whole bunch of father-son stuff to do."

"There are ... are ... rules about this kind of thing," Jesse added, grasping for what to say.

"Rules about looking at magazines? Talking to Lena? Or about father-son sorts of stuff?" Travis asked.

Then he got excited again and extended one of the magazines.

"You should see the pictures in here. Look at this! You're right there!"

Kate peered closer, and indeed, it was a shiny, color, freeze-frame photograph of Jesse doing a victory sign as a ball rolled straight for the hole.

"Wow," she said.

"Isn't it cool?" An old edition of Golf World hung from Travis's fingers as he went to the middle of the