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mad, and her soft complexion took on a pretty blush. “I can trade eggs and cakes for a tune-up with Jerry down at the filling station,” she told him.

      “Bartering?” he said, astonished. “What century are you people living in?”

      “A better one than yours, I guarantee,” she replied. “Around here, we’re people, not numbers in a case book.”

      “I’m amazed you’re not a number in a home for the unbalanced,” he said under his breath.

      “We’ll go when you’re ready, Grace,” Miss Turner interrupted, sensing an explosion.

      “I’m ready now, Miss Turner.”

      Garon glanced at her disapprovingly. “You go to a job looking like that?” he exclaimed.

      She frowned, glancing down at her neat, clean jeans and spotless white sweatshirt. “What should I wear to work in the back of a florist’s shop, a ball gown?” she asked.

      He shook his head. “The women in my office wear pantsuits and makeup.”

      “That’s probably because they think you’re eligible, and they want to impress you,” she retorted. “My boss is a woman and she dresses the same way I do.”

      His eyebrow jerked. “To each his own. I’ll be home late tonight, Miss Turner. Just put some cold cuts in the fridge for me.”

      “I’ll do that, boss,” she replied.

      He turned at the front door. “I hope your grandmother improves,” he told Grace quietly.

      “Coals of fire?” she muttered.

      “Glad you noticed.” He went out and closed the door.

      Grace felt an odd sensation in the pit of her stomach. She hoped she wouldn’t have too much more contact with her taciturn neighbor. And she really hoped that Granny would get better as the day wore on.

      

      JUDY, in the florist shop, was all kindness and compassion. She offered to let Grace off, with pay, to stay with her grandmother.

      Grace shook her head. “Thanks, but Dr. Coltrain would have a cow,” she murmured as she constructed a wreath for a funeral. “He doesn’t want me hanging around ICU. I can’t go in, you know, except for a few minutes three times a day. She’s really bad, Judy. I’m afraid.”

      “She’s been your family for a long time,” Judy agreed. “But there’s a whole world out there that you’ve never seen, Grace. You have to think ahead.”

      She moved restlessly. “I don’t know what I’d do, if she…well, I mean, Cousin Bob in Victoria would let me come and visit, but he’s in bad shape himself and he has a nurse who stays with him. I’d be alone, here in Jacobsville.”

      Judy reached over, patted her hand, and smiled. “You’ll never be alone in Jacobsville. We’re your family, Grace. All of us.”

      She managed a smile through a mist of quick tears. “Thanks.”

      Judy shrugged. “You’ll get by. We’ll all look out for you. Not that you need it anymore,” she added. “You’ve become very independent over the years. I’m proud of the way you’ve handled yourself. You’re an inspiration.”

      “Not me.”

      “You.” Judy smiled. “Not many people could come back so well from what happened. You’ve got guts, girl.”

      Grace didn’t like to talk about the past. She moved some more red roses closer to where she was working and started Judy talking about the new water rates. That was good for an hour.

      

      MRS. COLLIER was still in the coma when Grace left her about dark. Miss Turner had come in the Expedition, probably at Coltrain’s urging, and insisted that Grace come home.

      “You can’t work and stay at the hospital all hours,” Miss Turner said firmly. “Besides, Jolie will call you if you’re needed. We’ve gotten your phone fixed. Right?” she asked the pretty nurse on night duty.

      “You bet I will,” Jolie assured her with a smile.

      “All right, I’ll go home. Thanks,” she added, and followed Miss Turner out to the Expedition.

      

      GARON HAD COME HOME a little later than his usual time and had still gone out to help his boys with some heifers who were calving for the first time. Late February was just right for new calves, with the first green grass cautiously poking its head up out of the cold ground. His black Angus cattle were pretty, and he bred for specific traits, since he ran beef cattle. It was something of a blessing that the former owners, the Jacobs family, had been horse ranchers, because the barn was well-kept and the fences had been built to last almost new. It had been a simple matter to string electric wire around the existing pastures to ensure that his animals didn’t wander.

      He came up onto the porch just as Miss Turner drove up at the steps.

      “How’s her grandmother?” he asked when she joined him.

      “No change,” she replied. She shook her head. “She’s holding up well, but I think she’ll go to pieces if the old lady dies. She’s not used to having to live alone.”

      “Don’t tell me she’s afraid of the dark,” he laughed.

      She looked up at him and she didn’t smile. “If Mrs. Collier dies, I’ll have to find someone to stay with Grace for a while, just until she gets used to the idea. Or maybe she might go up to Victoria and stay with her cousin Bob for a few days,” she added, thinking aloud.

      “Take it one day at a time,” he said. “It’s not wise to borrow trouble.”

      “I suppose so.” She hesitated. “Her car is missing,” she said suddenly.

      “I know. I had Brady bring it over here and overhaul it,” he replied. “I was tempted to send it to the junkyard instead, but I guess it’s got two or three miles left in it…”

      The phone rang insistently. He reached for it before Miss Turner did. “Grier,” he said shortly.

      “You stole my car!” Grace Carver accused.

      3

      “I DO NOT STEAL CARS,” he replied indignantly. “I work for the FBI.”

      “They wouldn’t have hired you in the first place if they knew you stole cars,” she replied, ignoring his defense. “Where’s my car? It’s no use saying you don’t know, because the mailman saw one of your cowboys driving it off this morning after I went to work.”

      He didn’t deny it. “It’s a death trap. I’m having it overhauled by my mechanic,” he said. “Then you can drive yourself.”

      There was a brief pause. “I see.”

      He bit his tongue. “I didn’t mean that I mind you and Miss Turner using the Expedition,” he said irritably. “Stop putting words in my mouth!”

      “I didn’t say anything!”

      “You were thinking it!”

      She blinked. “It must be a handy sort of gift, reading minds, considering your line of work,” she said too sweetly.

      His eyes darkened angrily.

      She hesitated, but only for a moment. “Sorry, that slipped out. Just pretend you never heard it.”

      “There’s a saying,” he began slowly, “about biting the hand that feeds you…”

      “I wouldn’t bite yours,” she replied. “No telling where they’ve been!” Before he could react to that she thanked him again for helping with the car, and hung up quickly.

      He slammed the freedom

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