Savich and Sherlock sat across from Miles, listening with half an ear to Sean talking a blue streak to Sam, not much of it comprehensible, but Sam seemed to understand enough. He was rolling blocks to Sean, then helping Sean roll them back to him. They were in the designated kid part of the living room, where toys and chaos could reign without adults tripping over a stray ball and breaking a neck.

Sherlock looked sleek in black slacks and a black lace top, her curly red hair flying about, her eyes blue as a summer sky. Miles saw Savich grinning at her like a fool, sighed, and thought yet again of Katie.

It had been nearly a day and a half since he’d seen her. Those thirty hours felt like a decade.

“They’re still getting lots of rain in eastern Tennessee,” Miles said. “I’ll tell you, it kept me real alert flying out of Ackerman’s Air Field, what with the rain coming down so hard. They’ve got several storms lined up with little respite in between. Katie and her crew were up to their noses in mud and downed wires, not to mention all the accidents, the odd cow bawling in the middle of the road, mail soaked because some kids poked holes in some mailboxes.”

“Sounds like she has her hands full, all right,” Savich said and leaned forward so Sherlock could lightly scratch around the wound in his back.

Miles sat back and closed his eyes. Things were really bad and he didn’t see how anything could get better. His guts hurt. Sam’s guts hurt. Cracker kept asking what was wrong with him. He’d stomped around his office at the plant like a wounded rhino even though there were very few employees there to see it on a Sunday afternoon. Then he’d gone back home and stomped some more.

Even though Sam was safe, he sure wasn’t sound, but it was really early yet. As for himself, he felt like he’d left unfinished business he wasn’t in a position to finish, and that sucked, big time.

Miles muttered something under his breath, his eyes still closed, and Sherlock figured they were better off not knowing what he’d said.

Savich raised an eyebrow at him.

Miles said, “It’s been a day and a half, well, maybe a bit more than thirty hours now. Isn’t that amazing?”

“Yes,” Sherlock said, “absolutely amazing. Now, you’re moping, Miles.” She lowered her voice just a bit and moved her chair closer. “Sam and Sean are distracted. Tell us what’s going on here.”

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He cocked open an eye and said, “Yesterday morning I asked Katie to marry me and she turned me down.”

Both of them stared at him.

Sherlock said slowly, “You’re saying you asked a woman to marry you after—what was it?—not even a complete and full week after meeting her?”

“That’s about the size of it,” Miles said. “Damned woman. What could I do? I even asked her about architecture and she said she liked colonials.”

Sherlock lightly laid her hand on Savich’s leg. “I’ve never had much to do with colonials—they’re not what you’d call thick on the ground on the West Coast. Fact is, I would have married Dillon after three days, if he’d only known I was alive, colonial or not.”

Savich said, “Oh, I knew, I knew.” He clasped her hand and said, “You’re not remembering things exactly right, sweetheart. You were so cut off from everyone at the time, including me, until finally, you happened to spend that night here, with me, and then . . . Miles has heard all of that story he’s ever going to hear.”

Miles looked over to see Sean stuffing a graham cracker into his mouth. “I can pretend I haven’t heard any of it and you could give me some pointers, Savich.” He paused a moment, then said, shaking his head, “Isn’t it strange how Sam looks like me and Sean looks just like you?”

Sherlock said, “So much for the indomitable X chromosome.” Then she added, “So, Katie turned you down?”

“Yeah, I suppose because it’s been only a week. Too soon, really, just too soon. She wanted to think about it. I guess maybe I agreed with that. I don’t think she ever had a gun out of her hand. Strange time. She’s really pretty. Did you notice that?”

Savich nodded, smiling, and said, “How long does she want to think about it? Did she give you any hope at all?”

Miles shrugged. “I don’t know. We didn’t set a time, but I’ll tell you, Sam and I aren’t doing so well.”

“You miss her?”

“Well, yes, and Keely, but it’s Sam I’m really worried about.”

“What, nightmares? Surely you’ve got him seeing a child shrink. What does the doctor say?”




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