"Don't say no one cares, Martha. That's not so." Cynthia said.

"Martha," Dean said, "you've got to trust in someone sometime. Trust and honesty. That's what love is all about. Understand?"

Martha didn't answer but after a short time she asked to be excused. She closed the door to her room with Mrs. Lincoln still nestled in her arms. Cynthia released the tears she'd held in check.

"Remember last winter?" she sniffed. "When Martha first came here, we thought I might be pregnant, remember? Forty years old and having a baby! But I didn't care, I was so excited by the prospect. I wouldn't even take a test to find out for sure. I wanted the thought of having your baby to stay with me, even if I was mistaken. I wanted the dream to last. When I found out I wasn't pregnant, Martha was here and I wasn't near as disappointed as I thought I'd be. Deep down, I convinced myself we might have a chance for custody of Martha."

They'd never made official application for custody, but when they broached the subject with the authorities it was met with less than enthusiasm. The Dean's ages-both forty-and the financial limitations of their new business would make obtaining court approval difficult. Bird Song's balance sheet remained out of balance, still tilted toward the red side. Patsy, while incarcerated, still had a say in the matter.

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"I'm not clinging to Martha just because I didn't have our baby," Cynthia continued. "I really love her. She's so sweet and she's had such a tough life. She deserves more-much more, and I truly believe we could provide it."

"It's not a dead issue. The least we can offer Martha is to keep trying."

The exasperation showed on Cynthia's face. "I know you and I can squeak by with Bird Song, but the State of Colorado must see us as a pair of paupers struggling to put bread on the table." Cynthia tilted back her head and closed her eyes.

"I'll need that sheriff's job." Dean said. They both knew he spoke the truth-a steady salary would go a long way toward lessening their money problems. The Deans had married a year ago and poured their life savings into Bird Song. While Dean, a retired Pennsylvania police detective, was reluctant to return to law enforcement, Sheriff Jake Weller's retirement offered an opportunity not easily dismissed. "I'd better get my campaign manager cracking."

The Deans were on their way to their quarters in the rear of Bird Song when Fred O'Connor returned, fresh from an evening with Mrs. Worthington. She was his current waltzing widow-first choice to fill his dance card when he wasn't surfing the net, tracking down an auction or garage sale or devouring a mystery novel. Occasionally, he even lent a hand with the chores at Bird Song. The Deans had feared the long Colorado winter might slow down frisky Fred but, if anything, the opposite occurred, due in no small measure to his young pal and junk sale cohort, Martha Boyd.




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