Good can come out of bad

If it wasn’t for the tragic accident ten years earlier, Audrey Smith might never have taken in the three foster kids she loves so dearly. And if it wasn’t for the new addition to her home—a troubled teenage thief—she wouldn’t be fantasizing about Sawyer Williams.

Make no mistake—Sawyer’s the victim here. He’s the one who was robbed by Audrey’s daughter. But teaching the teen a lesson rather than punishing her makes Sawyer a superhero in Audrey’s eyes. Someone who can forgive and forget... That is until another break-in rocks their community, threatening Audrey’s family and her future with Sawyer.

“You intrigue me. You’re all I can think about.”

Audrey shook her head. “That might be why you want to kiss me, but why would I want to kiss you, Sawyer?”

“Because I’m totally endearing and charming. Because I make you laugh. But mainly because you can’t resist me and my multitude of charms.”

She laughed, which had been Sawyer’s intent. “Maybe I should say no to the kiss just to prove I can resist you.”

“Come on, Audrey. You know you want to,” he teased.

She smiled, stood on tiptoe and kissed him. Just a peck on his cheek.

“Really, you call that a kiss?”

“I call it the perfect kiss after a coffee date.”

“What kind of kiss is appropriate after a lunch date?” he asked.

“We’ll have to see how good the lunch is.”

“Challenge accepted.”

Dear Reader,

In March of 2000, a young editor at Mills & Boon’s Toronto office called me and said the magic words I’d been dreaming of, “We’d like to buy I Waxed My Legs for This?” It was such an odd title. And to be honest, someone might make the case that a romance that opens with the hero removing hair from the heroine’s legs might not be romantic (my grandmother was aghast), but I maintain, fifteen years later, that a real hero would definitely do just that!

That first sale led to more. I sold straight-up romantic comedies, sweet romances and later, emotional family dramas. But in every one of the thirty books I’ve written for Mills & Boon since, there has been one abiding theme...love. Romantic love and love of a family. I’ll confess, many of my books ask the question: What is a family? In Her Second-Chance Family I answer that question quite clearly. A person is family when you know they have your back. When they love you, warts and all. And when you mess up, family will forgive you and give you a second chance, and a third, and...

That’s what Audrey and Sawyer discover. A family is by its very definition—well, at least by my definition—always willing to give you another chance. And both of them have to decide if they can take the biggest chance of all...a chance on love. I hope you enjoy their story.

Holly

Her Second-Chance Family

Holly Jacobs

www.millsandboon.co.uk

In 2000, HOLLY JACOBS sold her first book to Mills & Boon Books. She’s since sold more than twenty-five novels to the publisher. Her romances have won numerous awards and made the Waldenbooks bestseller list. In 2005, Holly won a prestigious Career Achievement Award from RT Book Reviews. In her nonwriting life, Holly is married to a police captain, and together they have four children. Visit Holly at hollyjacobs.com, or you can snail-mail her at PO Box 11102, Erie, PA 16514-1102.

For everyone at Mills & Boon.

I’ve been so fortunate to work

with all of you.

And most especially for

Kathryn Lye...for everything.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

EPILOGUE

Extract

Copyright

PROLOGUE

MAY IN WESTERN Pennsylvania could be a roller-coaster month. The weather fluctuated constantly. Hot. Cold. Dry. Wet.

Audrey watched as the raindrops formed ever-changing patterns on the car’s window. Tonight it was obvious that April’s showers weren’t ready to give way to May’s flowers.

As she had the thought, she realized that the showers had given way to a full-on thunderstorm.

Merrill’s boyfriend, Jude, had shown a rare streak of gallantry. He’d not only offered to give them all a ride home, but pulled the car up to the school’s front door so they didn’t get wet.

He had got soaked when he’d run to get the car, though. But that didn’t seem to bother Merrill. She kept reaching across the front seat and running her fingers through his long, wet hair.

Audrey found their touchy-feely moments embarrassing. She generally tried to keep her distance when they got like that, but right now she was sitting behind Jude in the car, so there was nowhere to escape. Even watching the rain splattering against the window didn’t help, so she turned toward Ava instead.

Ava Parker and Merrill Cooper were her best friends. Audrey couldn’t imagine her life without them.

“Graduation. I can’t believe we’re done tomorrow,” Ava repeated for about the twentieth time in the past five minutes. She let out a long, loud squeal and her poker-straight black hair swung wildly. “I can’t believe we’re adults! I almost cried when we practiced moving our tassels over.”

“That graduation rehearsal was one of the dumbest wastes of time ever,” Audrey said loudly. “I am perfectly capable of walking in a line to the stage, accepting a piece of paper and shaking a few hands.”

“Don’t forget moving the tassel,” Ava teased.

“Yeah, I definitely didn’t almost cry. Seriously, they made us practice that? I’m pretty sure that’s why I got accepted at Penn State. My impressive tassel-moving abilities.”

As if she couldn’t stand having even twelve inches between her and Jude, Merrill unbuckled her seat belt and slid to the middle of the bench seat. She snuggled close to the completely soaked Jude.

“Buckle up,” Ava commanded.

Merrill turned around and shook her head in disgust, but not a strand of her beautifully styled blond hair shifted out of place. Audrey didn’t know what product Merrill used on her hair, but it was always perfect. Even in tonight’s humidity.

“You are really thirty, right, Ava?” Merrill asked. “Thirty in an eighteen-year-old body.”

“Almost nineteen,” Ava said prissily. “My father made me promise to never ride in a car with someone who’s been drinking, or won’t wear a seat belt.”

Merrill made a big show out of finding the seat belt and clicking it in place. “There, I’m buckled,” she said, then turned back to cuddling Jude, who let out a yelp of excitement.

“We’re graduates,” he screamed, and pounded on the horn.

“Graduates,” Audrey and Merrill echoed as he continued beeping.

Ava was not a scream-with-excitement sort of girl, but Audrey noticed she was smiling as they all acted like lunatics.

Audrey might have complained about wasting time at the practice, but she was as excited as the others at the thought of graduating. Finally, she was going to start her life. She’d have a career—though she wasn’t sure what it would be—and a family. People who loved her and would always have her back.

She knew she had that in Ava and Merrill. They were more than friends. They were her family. They’d saved her in so many ways.

“We’re graduates,” Merrill hollered again. Jude and Audrey joined in, while Ava simply sat watching them.

Her life was going to be amazing. Audrey just knew it. She was going to have everything she’d always dreamed of. All the things she’d wanted but could never have.

Ava’s smile gave way to a frown. “Slow down, Jude.”

“Come on,” Audrey teased her. “We’ll only be this young once. We’re going to have to work hard again in the fall, but tonight we’re...graduates!” She screamed and Merrill and Jude joined in.

They all waited and finally Ava added her voice to their chorus.

“Graduates!” they shouted at the top of their voices, and Jude beeped the horn again.

“Gradu...”

They never finished the cheer because in that split second everything changed.

All her hopes, all her dreams.

In that single moment Audrey’s future was transformed.

CHAPTER ONE

“JUST A MINUTE,” Sawyer Williams bellowed. He was pretty sure he knew who was at the door, and he was absolutely sure he wasn’t going to be pleased.

He was right. A teenage girl stood on his porch. Her black hair fell softly to her shoulders today instead of standing straight in the harsher spikes she normally wore. Her expression said she wasn’t any more pleased to be here than he was to have her here.

It was the same girl who’d stood on his porch each Saturday for the past month. And for the past three Saturdays, he’d cut her off and told her to leave his property or he was calling the cops. Every visit ended the same way...with him slamming the door in her face.

And here she was again. His first inclination was to actually call the cops this time. But the curiosity that had nibbled at him since that first visit finally got the better of him. He knew who she was, but had no clue why she was here.

Whatever she wanted to say had to be important. At least to her. Still, instead of threatening to call the cops or slamming the door, this time he asked, “Fine. I give up. What do you want?”

The girl jumped back, as if she hadn’t anticipated him asking a question. Her dark blue eyes met his as she took a deep breath and said, “Mr. Williams, I’m Willow Jones.”

“I know exactly who you are and I know exactly what you are.” He’d testified against her, after all. “I repeat, what do you want?”

She glanced at the red SUV in his drive and then turned back to him. She straightened her spine. “I know you’re not happy to see me. Trust me, I am not happy to be here.”

He’d gathered that much from her expression. “So, if you don’t want to be here any more than I want to have you here, why are you on my porch, knocking on my door for the fourth Saturday in a row?”

“I want to ask you if I could mow your lawn this summer.”

The young miscreant—this thief who was surely just getting started on her life of crime—was showing up weekly to ask him for permission to mow his lawn? “What?”

“Listen, she—” she jerked her head in the direction of the car “—she says I need to balance my karma. Right now, I’ve got a lot of negatives going on. She says that being on teeny-bopper probation isn’t enough. She says that the probation actually benefits me and isn’t much of a punishment because if I keep my nose clean, I get my record wiped. It will be almost like it never happened. Only it did happen. And my clean record doesn’t do anything for you. She says that I harmed you and I need to make amends to you. She made me think of something I could do, and I remembered when I ripped off your place that your yard’s huge, so I thought that I could mow it all summer.” She paused and sighed. “And weed it, too.”

Sawyer glanced at the car, but couldn’t make out the driver. He looked back at the girl who wanted to fix her karma. No, not fix it, balance it.

“I have a lawn service,” he said. “They were just here last week and treated for weeds.”

She glanced at the car again, then back at him. “Oh, man, whatever you do, don’t tell her that. She’ll lecture you about chemicals and water tables. Then she’ll show you her nifty little dandelion puller and tell you that if you can’t live with dandelions in your yard, you can yank them out. She’ll tell you that you should just let them be, though, ’cause the bees like ’em and we need bees. She’ll talk about bee collapse as she feeds you something weird that you’ve never heard of. And you can count on the fact it’ll be good for you.”

Sawyer knew he should shut the door on this young hoodlum, but for some reason he found their conversation intriguing. “Like what?”

“Something like quinoa. Yeah, that’s right.” The girl nodded. “You’ve never heard of it. No one in the real world ever has. Anyway, I have to do something for you and balance my karma in her hippie-chick sort of world. I wouldn’t let me in your house if I was you, but I figured your yard was safe. I’ll tell you when I’m coming and you can dead bolt the doors and lock the windows.”

He pointed to the sticker on his window.

“You got a security service? I didn’t notice the sticker, so I’m not sure it’s enough to warn off other future thieves.”

“There are signs, too.”

She shrugged. “I’d have to be stupid to rob your place again. I might be a thief, but I’m not stupid. But maybe it’ll keep other people from trying to break in. So, about the lawn?”

“Like I said, I have a lawn service.” This was another golden opportunity to slam the door on her, but instead he waited to see what her next response would be.

She nodded. “Listen, that’s fine. I get it. Like I said, I don’t blame you. But if you say no, I’m going to have to go back to the car and tell her that after four visits, you finally let me say my piece and still said no. If that happens, either she’ll say that we’ll try again next week—that’s your best option. And I’ll be standing out here again next Saturday. Or she’s going to come out to convince you to let me mow. If she does that, you won’t stand a chance. You might argue. You might put up a good fight. But she won’t listen. And before you know it, I’ll be mowing your yard this summer and you’ll be eating quinoa.”

He glanced at the car again, but still couldn’t make out the driver.

“Really,” Willow said, “I know you’ve got no reason to trust me on anything, but trust me on this...you do not have a choice. Heck, I don’t have a choice. We’re both stuck with the fact that I’m going to mow your lawn one way or another. And I might be a burglar, but she’s...” The sentence drifted off, as if the girl wasn’t sure how to describe her.

“She’s what?” he found himself asking.

The kid’s blue eyes met his. “She’s like no one you’ve ever met. She seems to think she can fix me. I tried to tell her that I’m not broken and I don’t need fixing or saving, but she ignores me and just keeps at it. She says everyone should have a second chance. Then Clinton...”

“Clinton?” he asked.

“Clinton Ross. Another one of her rescues. She says everyone should get a second chance and he laughs and says, ‘Sometimes even a third.’ She agrees and then says, ‘Even a fourth.’ They laugh like it’s some kind of joke. They’re weird. They have family game nights and like doin’ stuff together.”

She shook her head. “But there’s no fighting them. They’ve decided I get a second chance, so I’m getting one whether I want it or not. And part of that second chance means mowing your yard, so that means you don’t have a choice, either.”

“All summer?” he found himself asking.

She nodded. “I’ll bring the lawn mower and supply the gas and everything. You just need to leave me a few garbage cans for the yard trimmings...unless you have a compost pile.”

He shook his head. “I don’t.”

She sighed. “Well, don’t tell her that or you’ll get a crash course on how you can save the planet one compost pile at a time. Anyway, other than garbage cans, I don’t need anything from you. Just say yes and tell me when it’s convenient for me to come, then forget about me.”

“Really, you don’t...”

“Quinoa,” she said ominously.

Sawyer grudgingly admired the girl for her tenacity. This might have been the woman in the car’s idea, but Willow seemed to be behind it, no matter how she tried to lay the blame on the mysterious her.

“Fine,” he said. “You can mow.”

Willow let out a long sigh. “Great. Any time that’s best?”

“No. Whatever works for you.”

“Fine. I’ll be over next week.” She started down the stairs.

Sawyer called her back. “Hey, is she your mom?”

Willow turned around and laughed. “I sooo am not going to tell her you asked me that. She’s only twelve years older than me. I doubt they’d let anyone else take in a foster kid so close to their own age, but she decided I was hers and...well, like I said, when she decides something, it happens. She wanted me and now I’m hers, like it or not.”

The girl seemed clearly confused at the thought of anyone wanting her that much.

“And she’s a hippie,” he stated. He was surprised to hear a teenager referencing hippies.

She nodded. “Oh, yeah. Really, keep your distance or you’ll be...”

“Eating quinoa.”

She laughed. “Yes.”

Willow turned and started toward the car again, but Sawyer called out, “Hey, what’s her name?”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot.” She ran back over to him, pulled a piece of paper out of her back pocket. “That’s her name, my name—not that you don’t remember me—our address and both our phone numbers. And there’s my social worker and my juvenile probation officer. She says I’m not supposed to be doing it to impress my probation officer, and that unless he asks, I shouldn’t say anything about making restitution like this. She says that doing things for show is shallow. You do the right thing because it’s right, not for glory or recognition. She says that you can call my probation guy if you want, but I’m not supposed to look for credit for doing what’s right.”

“She says a lot of things,” Sawyer said.

Willow sighed, but he thought he detected a slight smile behind her put-upon expression. “Oh, you don’t know the half of it,” the girl assured him. “I swear, I almost wish she’d smack me when I screw up. It would be fast and over much more quickly.” She obviously spoke from experience and Sawyer found himself angry at the thought of anyone hitting the girl.

“But no, not her,” Willow continued. “She just looks disappointed and then starts talking. Pretty soon I’m doing what she wants just to get her to shut up.”

Sawyer was intrigued by this foster mom who was only twelve years older than the teen at his door.

“I told her that someday I’m going to write a book filled with all the things she says,” Willow continued. “She just laughed and said she’d come to my book signing. She’s always happy and smiling and believing that everyone is better than they really are. Except at night.”

“What happens at night?” he asked, but Willow was gone. She was getting in the car with... He glanced at the paper she’d handed him. Audrey Smith.

It looked as though he was going to have to cancel his lawn service, then he was going to look up quinoa on the net.

* * *

AUDREY SAT IN the car while Willow talked to Sawyer Williams.

Watching the man was a pleasure. Really, it was absolutely pure pleasure.

He was tall, but not too tall. She was sure he checked the box next to brown when asked what color his hair was, but she wasn’t sure that was an adequate description. It was the sort of brown that probably turned lighter in the summer, and darkened to almost black in the winter. It was on its way to lightening up now.

She wondered what he’d look like if he smiled.

She’d driven Willow here weekly and had hurt for the girl every time the man slammed the door in her face.

But for whatever reason, today was different. Sawyer Williams was talking to Willow. Not just threatening to call the cops, but talking.

Willow was heading toward the car when she suddenly turned around and handed Sawyer a card before she walked toward Audrey.

“How’d it go?” Audrey asked as Willow slid in beside her.

“Well, I had to threaten him...”

“Willow.”

Willow laughed. “With quinoa. Well, quinoa and you. Anyway, he finally agreed. Reluctantly.”

Audrey couldn’t help but grin. She knew that Willow probably wouldn’t see Sawyer agreeing to let her work for free all summer as a victory, but it was. The girl had set her mind to a goal and she’d achieved it. As far as Audrey could tell, there hadn’t been very many victories in Willow’s life.

“That’s great, Willow.”

“Says the woman who’s not going to spend her summer mowing a huge lawn for nothing.”

Audrey’s smile faded. “Not for nothing.”

She knew how guilt could eat at someone. Even if it was guilt over circumstances that weren’t entirely your fault. She didn’t want that for Willow. And the juvenile court system’s slap on the wrist wasn’t enough to assuage Willow’s guilt. But a summer of sweating under the hot sun, doing something tangible for Sawyer...that might.

“No, not for nothing,” Willow admitted.

Audrey’s smile was firmly back in place as she announced, “Well, this calls for a celebration. School’s officially over. You’ve accomplished your goal.”

“Your goal,” Willow sniped.

Audrey glanced at her. The merest hint of a smile was playing at the edges of Willow’s scowl.

Audrey took that as a good sign. “Hey, no matter who set the goal, it’s been met, so we’re celebrating.”

“You all look for reasons to celebrate,” Willow groused. After a pause, she added, “What do you have in mind?”

“I know just the thing,” Audrey assured her.

“Quinoa salad?” Willow teased.

Again, Audrey felt encouraged. Maybe she was finally reaching Willow. She wanted to. She’d been doing everything she could think of since the day the teenager walked into her house.

“Something even better,” she assured Willow. “Yeah, I know it’s hard to believe there’s anything better, but this might qualify. We’ll do dinner at home, then head out.”

They drove the five minutes back to her house and found Maggie May waiting at the front door when they pulled in.

“So how did it go?” she called as Audrey and Willow got out of the car.

When Audrey had bought her house in Wesleyville—a borough between the city of Erie and the Harborcreek home they’d just come from—she’d thought the small house with the big yard had everything she needed. She’d slowly renovated and rehabbed the house until it had everything she wanted, as well.

But it turned out the small house had one huge bonus that no real estate agent could have known about. It had come with Maggie Mayberry as a next-door neighbor.

Maggie May, as the kids called her, was somewhere south of sixty and widowed. She had watched the kids during summer vacations since they’d moved in. Over the past few years Maggie had become more than a neighbor; she’d become family.

“He said yes,” Willow said. “I had to threaten him, though,” she added with a grin.

“With?” Maggie asked.

“Quinoa.” Willow said it as if it were a curse word.

“Hey, you said quinoa was better than you thought,” Audrey protested.

Willow and Maggie both laughed. “It is good,” Audrey protested even as she joined in.

“Congratulations, Willow,” Maggie said.

“We’re going to go to the peninsula tonight,” Audrey told her. “You’re invited for dinner and a sunset.”

“Ask me next time,” Maggie May said. “We both know there will be a next time sooner rather than later. I’ve got a date tonight.”

“Do tell?” Audrey said.

Maggie offered her a small, mysterious smile. “It’s only our second one. If he makes it past date five, I’ll tell.”

“I’ll be waiting,” Audrey assured her.

As Maggie disappeared into her own home, Willow said, “A sunset? We’re going to celebrate with a sunset?”

“Have you ever gone out to the peninsula for sunset?” Audrey countered.

“No.” Willow’s tone made it obvious that she didn’t think a sunset could qualify as much of a celebration.

“Then give it a try and tell me later what you think.”

The sunsets on Erie’s Presque Isle peninsula were one of her favorite parts of summer. When she sat on the rocky beach staring out at the western horizon, all she could see was water and sky. The world seemed limitless.

“A sunset...” Willow muttered as she stalked into the house.

Audrey sighed. Willow had only lived with her since February—not quite half a year. One day soon she’d really reach her.

She just had to keep trying and be patient.

Unfortunately, patience wasn’t one of Audrey’s greatest gifts.

It wasn’t even a minor gift, if she was being honest with herself.

She picked up the mail, placed the bills in one pile and dropped the junk mail in another. There was one envelope that was obviously neither. She opened it and felt sick. It was an invitation to her ten-year high school reunion, the last Saturday in August at the Bayfront Convention Center.

Her heart sank. She didn’t want to go. She doubted that Merrill or Ava would be there, and other than the two of them, there was no one she really wanted to see. Actually, she wasn’t even sure she wanted to see Merrill and Ava. They’d kept in touch, but only just barely since high school.

She didn’t want to look back. There was nothing to be gained by it.

“Aud,” Clinton and Bea shouted in unison.

Audrey crumpled the invitation and put it in the recycle pile. She turned her attention to the kids.

“It’s official,” Clinton announced. “We’re on summer vacation.”

“And Willow finally convinced Mr. Williams to let her mow his lawn,” Audrey said.

“Good for you, Willow,” Clinton called up the stairs. Audrey guessed the girl had made a beeline for her bedroom, confirmed moments later by the sound of a door slamming.

Clinton was only a year younger than Willow, but in so many ways he was much older. He’d grown up too soon and she knew that part of that was her fault. She felt a familiar stab of pain. She’d done her best to give him a childhood, but she wasn’t always sure that her best had been good enough. At least she had given him security and a family.

“I thought we’d go to the beach to celebrate the official start to our summer and Willow’s successful campaign.”

“Sunset,” Bea squealed. “Our first one of the year. It’s still too cold to swim, right?”

It had been a brutal winter that hadn’t given way to spring until almost April. Two months hadn’t been enough to warm the Great Lake up enough for Audrey to swim, or even dunk her toes. “Well, too cold for me,” she told the ten-year-old.

Bea’s long brown braid bounced against her back. Bianca Cruz was built of sturdier stuff than Audrey. Over the winter, while Audrey had dressed in layers, Bea had walked around barefoot. “I’ll put my suit on just in case.”

“A sunset?” Willow said as she came back into the room and stared at her foster siblings. “Really, that’s your idea of a celebration?” She walked up to the counter, grabbed an apple and then went up the stairs again. Moments later, her bedroom door slammed.

“I don’t think she’s impressed,” Clinton said with typical dry humor.

“That’s because she hasn’t experienced one yet,” Audrey said with more optimism than she felt.

“You might not win her over, Aud,” he said softly. “You might have to concede to that someday.”

“It doesn’t matter. She needs us, even if she doesn’t want to admit it. Everyone needs someone. I was lucky that I had you to work for, to fight for. And now Willow’s got us, even if she doesn’t want us.”

Clinton was too old to hug much anymore, but he made an exception this once and squeezed her tight. He was taller than she was now.

“All we can do is try,” Clinton said with his old-man wisdom.

Audrey nodded. “Let’s make short work of dinner so we can get out to the beach in time for that sunset.”

* * *

A COUPLE HOURS LATER, she sat on a blanket, one arm wrapped around the very damp Bea, watching as the sun neared the edge of the horizon.

It had been a lovely evening. She’d even coaxed Willow into joining the family selfie. Now, if only she could get the girl to enjoy herself.

“Really, you guys, this isn’t a celebration, it’s a...” Willow started to complain again.

“Shh,” Bea said. “We’ll miss it.” Her teeth chattered as she pulled the towel more tightly around her.

Audrey still couldn’t believe that Bea had braved the lake. No one else would join her. Not even Clinton, and Bea could normally persuade him to do almost anything.

“Miss what?” Willow asked.

Bea’s teeth chattered as she said, “Audrey knows a lady who owns a chocolate shop in town. The lady says if you listen hard enough, sometimes you can hear the sun hiss when it hits the water.”

Willow scoffed. “Oh, come on...”

Audrey caught Clinton glaring at Willow, as if warning her against hurting Bea’s feelings. His look was enough to shut down Willow’s rant before it really started.

They all knew that logically they’d never hear the sun hit the water, but that didn’t stop them from trying every summer.

Slowly, the sun drew closer and closer to the distant horizon where Lake Erie met the sky. The clouds overhead parted just enough to allow a small band of color to show through. Tonight it was a brilliant pinkish orange.

Seconds later the sun sank below the horizon and disappeared, the color of the sky fading to a lavender blue.

Audrey let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

“Did anyone hear it?” Bea asked.

“Not this time,” Audrey said.

“Me, neither.” Clinton shrugged. “Guess we’ll have to try again next week.”

“How about you?” Audrey asked Willow.

The teenager shook her head. “Of course I didn’t. That’s really stupid.”

“Aud’s friend says when her son was little, they always listened,” Clinton admonished. “They thought they heard it once.”

Willow looked as if she was going to argue, but Audrey headed her off. “We all know it’s just a charming story, Willow. But like a favorite fairy tale, we enjoy it. We come out weekly during the summer to try and hear that hiss.”

Willow shook her head again. “You guys are really weird. Seriously, really weird.”

Rather than take offence, Clinton laughed. “You’ve only been here a few months. You don’t know the half of it.”

Willow gave them one more disgusted look, then stalked toward the car.

“She’s doing better,” Bea mused. “I thought she’d be meaner about the sunset.”

“Me, too,” Audrey admitted. “We’ll win her over eventually.”

“You’ll win her over,” Bea said. “You and Clinton. She just doesn’t understand what it’s like to be loved. I know I was little, but I didn’t know, either, until Clinton, then you.”

Audrey gathered up their blanket, then followed her family back to the car.

It was time to go home.

CHAPTER TWO

THE NEXT MORNING, Audrey woke up with a start. She was sweating and her breath came in fast, shallow gulps, as if she’d just run a race.

“Audrey, Audrey...” Someone was shaking her. She turned and saw Clinton staring down at her. He was pale and his expression was pinched with worry.

“You screamed this time,” he said. “You haven’t done that in a while.”

She scooted higher in the bed and leaned back against the pillow. “I’m so sorry I woke you up.”

He sat gingerly beside her. “Same dream?”

She nodded, though it wasn’t a dream. It was a nightmare—one she couldn’t escape.

One she shouldn’t escape.

It had to be the invitation to her reunion that had brought back the events of that awful night.

Audrey winced. She had a college degree and a job she loved. She owned her house. Well, along with the bank. And she had the family she’d always dreamed of.

She should be able to forget. She looked at Clinton.

No, never forget.

She just wished she could put the events of that night behind her. It had changed everything. That one moment had sent her life hurtling in a whole new direction.

She thought of Frost’s poem about two paths. At least the narrator had had a choice.

She took Clinton’s hand and he gave hers a squeeze.

She sometimes marveled at how many good things had also come from that one awful moment.

“Mom?” Bea called from the doorway. Most of the time, the kids called her Audrey, or even Aud, but on occasion Clinton and Bea called her Mom.

“Come on in, sweetie.” She patted the bed, and Bea took the invite, ran over and jumped in next to her. “So, basically, I woke up everyone?”

Bea snuggled close. “Yeah, but it’s okay. We’d have to get up soon, anyway. I started the coffee for you.”

“Wow, how did I get so lucky?” Audrey asked.

She heard the bathroom door slam down the hall.

“Not all that lucky,” Bea whispered. “You woke Willow up, too. She’s not happy about it.”

Clinton snorted. “She’s never happy.”

It had only been four months, Audrey reminded herself...again.

“Well, as long as we’re all up, let’s get our day started.” Audrey sat up in bed. “I’ve got to go into the office today for a meeting, so you guys are hanging out with Maggie May.”

“Are you going to hear about your project?” Clinton asked.

“Yes. I feel nervous every time I think about it.” She knew that even if the firm was awarded the project it wouldn’t be her project. She was too new, too young to be in charge, but it felt like hers.

She’d gone to work at Lebowitz Architecture expecting to do grunt work for years. But Mr. Lebowitz was a one-man firm, and because of that, it wasn’t long before he’d also let her take an active role in the houses he’d designed. She’d eventually helped at every stage, from planning through construction. She frequently drove by those houses, two of them in particular, simply to admire them.

But this new project was different.

The city had donated two downtown lots next to the old railroad tracks for a children’s education center with an emphasis on science and green technology. The plan was to stress innovation and include a small building for classes and lectures, a playground and a community garden area.

Audrey wanted the project so much she could taste it. Mr. Lebowitz had let her take the lead in putting together the firm’s proposal.

And she’d come up with the name for their submission: The Greenhouse—Growing Resources: Educating, Empowering Naturalists House.

Erie already had LEAF—the Lake Erie Arboretum at Frontier Park—on the west side of town and TREC—the Tom Ridge Environmental Center—at the base of the peninsula. The Greenhouse would both fit in with and complement the city’s existing educational centers.

If she got the job.

Well, if Lebowitz Architecture got it.

Clinton pulled her from her thoughts. “Me and Bea aren’t worried. You’ll get it all right. You’re too good not to.”

“I wish I felt as confident.” Having someone believe in her that much meant everything. She’d never got that kind of support from a family, but she’d had Ava and Merrill once upon a time. They’d believed she could do anything, just like the kids did now.

Audrey tried to shake off the nightmare’s residual dark blot. She couldn’t change the past, but she could make a better future.

Clinton, as always, seemed to sense the shift in her mood. Why wouldn’t he? He’d witnessed more of her nightmares and their aftermath than the others. “Come on, Audrey. You not only have LEED credentials, you practice what you preach. We’re the only people I know with a solar water heater and solar panels. You are the perfect architect for this project.” Clinton’s rust-colored hair was more unkempt than usual, and his crooked grin said he found her concerns amusing.

Maybe she’d lost Ava and Merrill after that terrible night, but she’d found Clinton, then Bea, and now Willow. She couldn’t control where her mind took her at night, but she was in charge during the day. She’d built a wonderful family that she was proud of and that’s what she would focus on.

She’d get this project and she’d win over Willow and...

“Let’s go, Aud,” Bea commanded. “Why don’t you get the first shower before Clinton? He takes so long so he’ll smell good for all the girrrrlllls, but it won’t help.”

Bea might not actually be related to Clinton by blood, but the ten-year-old was his little sister in every other way.

“Bea,” Clinton warned on cue, which sent the younger girl screeching down the hall.

In that moment, Clinton looked like any other kid might, as he smiled at Audrey before running after Bea.

A loud series of happy shrieks followed, then Willow screamed at the two of them to shut up, which only made them yell even louder.

The last vestiges of the nightmare sloughed away as Audrey crawled out of bed and grabbed her bathrobe.

When she stepped into the hall she came face-to-face with Willow, whose annoyance was palpable. “Seriously, what is wrong with you people? It’s not even eight in the morning and it’s summer vacation. This house is so freakin’ loud.”

“Sorry,” Audrey said. “I woke the kids.”

“You had your nightmare again?”

Audrey thought Willow’s face softened a bit as she asked the question. For a brief moment, she wondered if that was sympathy in the girl’s expression. Or maybe even empathy.

Willow had never cried out in her sleep, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have bad dreams. She’d spent years in foster care, but before that her home life had given her enough fodder for nightmares for the rest of her life.

“Yeah. It doesn’t happen as often as it used to, but likely it’ll never stop completely.” The only people who could fully understand were Merrill and Ava.

After that night, they’d all tried to get their friendship back on track, but everything had changed. Ava and Merrill could never understand her connection with Clinton. He made them uncomfortable. But her need to balance her karma, she’d never found a better way to put it, won out, as far as she was concerned.

She’d inadvertently been part of something truly harmful, so she felt she needed to make amends.

But no matter how much she did, no matter how many ways she tried to leave a positive mark on the world, it never felt like enough.

“Yeah, well, sorry about the nightmare,” Willow said. “But really, you gotta keep it down in the morning.” And with that, she stalked off down the hall. A moment later she looked back at Audrey. “I’ve got to go and mow today.”

Audrey couldn’t help but feel encouraged that Willow remembered on her own. “Do you have everything you need?”

“Yeah. I texted him back last night and reminded him I was coming so he could batten down the hatches ’cause his burglar was coming over.”

Batten down the hatches? That was an odd phrase for a young girl to use. It was strange, like so many other things about Willow.

Her newest foster daughter turned into her room, slamming the door behind her.

Sooner or later, Audrey would figure Willow out. But not today.

Today, she needed to get to the office.

* * *

TWO HOURS LATER, the kids were at Maggie May’s and Audrey sat across from Abe Lebowitz in his office. Not the main office where he met clients, but his private space, which was cluttered with models, books and a chair that would look more at home in a junkyard than an office.

Mr. Lebowitz said he needed clutter in order to think and be inspired. If that was so, he must be the most inspired man in history, Audrey thought.

And she loved it.

“...so that’s yes,” he said.

“Yes?” Audrey repeated, halfway between a question and a squeal. “Yes? We’ve got the project?”

Abe Lebowitz smiled, the lines of his face crinkling. Audrey knew they came from a lifetime of laughter.

“They approved the project and it’s ours,” he assured her. “And while the firm was awarded the project, I want you to know that I realize why. You pushed for this. You did the work. This project wouldn’t have been on my radar without you.”

“I think we can really raise awareness, Mr. Lebowitz. The Lake Erie region is such a unique environment and we need to protect it. We have TREC on the peninsula, and LEAF on the west side. The Greenhouse in the center of the city will give our inner-city students a chance...”

Mr. Lebowitz held up his hand.

Audrey stopped short. “Sorry,” she said ruefully.

He smiled again. “That enthusiasm is why I hired you. Don’t ever lose it.”

And then it was straight back to business as he outlined her responsibilities. “...and you’ll be coordinating with Marcia James, who works for the mayor, and Ms. Wilkins, who’s with the school district. They love your designs, but as you know a big part of this project is working with the school district and trying to incorporate some of the kids’ suggestions into the project. This is going to be a long-term commitment on your part. This summer is your golden time. We know we have the project, but the real work won’t start until school begins in September. You’re going to need to coordinate with the school district and the contractors and still manage your work here.”

“I can do it. So much of the project can involve my own kids. I don’t think it’s going to take away from family time.” It would require a lot of juggling, but Audrey would make it work. Somehow she always made it work. “Thank you so much for the opportunity, Mr. Lebowitz.”

He took her hand in his and patted it. “You’re an asset, Audrey. Back when I started the firm, I didn’t worry about sustainability. Frankly, it wasn’t something I thought about much at all until I hired you. Now, I incorporate so many of your ideas into projects. Your passion is contagious.”

“Willow says I’m trying to save the world one compost pile at a time whenever I make her take the kitchen scraps out, but really, I’m trying to save it one house at a time. One geothermal heating unit at a time. One thermal mass wall at a time.” She laughed, not because anything she said was funny but because she was happy and excited. She’d worked so hard on the Greenhouse.

Willow had scoffed at the idea of all the time the project would take. All the work without any financial return. She’d said it didn’t make sense. But Audrey knew that the returns would be so much more lasting than money.

“Your kids are on board with this?” Mr. Lebowitz asked.

She nodded. “They’re behind me. To be honest, Clinton and Bea will be almost as excited as I am.”

“And your new girl? Willow?” Mr. Lebowitz asked.

“She’ll come around. I caught her throwing a banana peel in the compost bucket on her own the other day. And she did go see that Mr. Williams about mowing his lawn. Those are positive steps. She’s heading over to his house this afternoon for the first time.”

She didn’t say it out loud, but she couldn’t help but remember Willow’s concern that morning about her nightmare. “Yes, she’ll come around,” Audrey said with certainty.

“I’m glad. Maybe I could take the kids out on a field trip of sorts this summer? I haven’t been to Fallingwater in so long. That’s a shame, since it’s only three hours away.”

Audrey had gone to the famous Frank Lloyd Wright house as a student, but hadn’t been back since. Mr. Lebowitz was right; that was a shame. “I’ve never taken the kids there. I’m sure Bea and Clinton would enjoy it.”

“And do you think we can talk Willow into coming with us?” he asked.

“We can try.” That was her mantra with Willow. I can try.

Mr. Lebowitz nodded. “Maybe I’ll ask Maggie May, too,” he said a little too nonchalantly.

His suggestion caught Audrey unaware, but she didn’t tease or prod him.

She did, however, decide to try to find reasons to throw the two of them together this summer.

Wouldn’t it be nice if two of her favorite people in the world got together?

Maggie had said she was dating someone, but it couldn’t be serious yet. Audrey wasn’t sure why she hadn’t thought of it before. Mr. Lebowitz and Maggie.

She almost laughed at herself. Playing Cupid wasn’t in her nature.

“I’m sure Maggie would love a day out.” But what if Maggie had already fallen for the new man? “I mean, I think there’s a chance she’s been going out with someone recently.”

“I’m not afraid of a little competition,” he said. “I like a challenge.”

“I just wouldn’t want to see you get hurt,” she said.

“Audrey, honey, you know you’re more than an employee to me, right?”

She nodded.

“Then I want to be clear this is your friend speaking, not your boss. Because a boss shouldn’t get too involved in an employee’s life. But a friend should.”

“Okay.” She had no idea where he was going with this.

“If I went out with Maggie and got my heart broken, that would not be your fault. It would be mine. Maybe hers. Not yours. When you interned here, I thought you were the most responsible twenty-something I’d ever met. I thought it was a strength, and that sense of responsibility is one of the reasons I hired you. And as a boss, it is a strength. But as a friend, I think there’s a chance it’s conversely one of your greatest weaknesses. You can’t be responsible for everyone’s pain.”

“I just didn’t want to see you...”

“Everyone gets hurt, honey,” he said firmly. “And if you never get hurt, then you’re never risking yourself. And playing it safe isn’t really living.”

“Okay.”

He sighed. “I’ve offended you now.”

“No. Really.” She forced a smile. “Nothing could bother me today. I plan to walk on air. Mr. Lebowitz, thank you again.”

“You did this on your own, Audrey.”

“No, I didn’t. I did this with your help and with the kids’ support.” And she knew that she’d also done it because of that night so long ago. A night that threw her onto a new and unplanned path.

Maybe Mr. Lebowitz was right. Maybe she did take responsibility for things outside her control. Maybe she needed to risk herself more.

Maybe.

CHAPTER THREE

SAWYER OCCASIONALLY WORKED on Saturdays, and routinely pulled longer than eight-hour days, which meant he generally had some comp time available. He liked that his position gave him a little flexibility with his hours.

Frankly, he just liked his job.

When he was younger, he’d dreamed about being a firefighter, not a banker. He imagined there were a lot of jobs that children never dreamed of doing. Sometimes he wondered how anyone landed where they did.

For him, it started in college. He’d taken some business classes and then he’d interned at a bank. When his internship was over, he’d gotten a job at the bank and one day he’d realized that he’d found his niche.

He liked the certainty of numbers.

He liked working with people.

He’d juggled his hours this week so he could be home early this afternoon. He was in his upstairs office now, but no matter how many times he tried to focus on the computer, he kept looking out the window, watching Willow Jones mow his lawn.

The girl might be a thief, but she was a meticulous worker. Each swipe of the lawn mower was parallel to the last. One neat row after another.

She stopped every couple passes to empty the bag into a garbage can.

When she was done mowing, she walked along the planting beds, pulling weeds and putting those in the bins, as well.

He glanced at his watch. She’d been at it almost two hours without stopping for much more than a sip from her water bottle—a stainless-steel bottle she must have filled from a tap at home.

It had to be beyond tepid at this point.

He wasn’t sure why he was concerned, but he found himself going downstairs to the fridge for a cold bottle of water. Then he stopped. He didn’t know much about this girl, other than she was on probation for breaking into his house and that she lived with a hippie woman who probably frowned on store-bought water. That would explain why the kid had a stainless-steel water bottle.

He grabbed a glass instead, filled it with ice and tap water and then headed to the backyard.

“Thought you might want something cold,” he said by way of greeting.

Willow looked at him a moment, then nodded. “Thanks. I should have stuck my water bottle in a cooler.”

“I wasn’t sure if your hippie chick allowed things like ice,” he teased.

He saw immediately that his joke fell flat.

Willow shot him a penetrating glare. “Listen, the other kids and I can call her that and joke about it all we want. Well, the other kids wouldn’t tease her because they’re so used to her they don’t see anything odd anymore. But you don’t know her. You don’t have the right.”

Sawyer wasn’t used to being called on the carpet by anyone, especially not a sixteen-year-old thief. But he simply acknowledged her comment and nodded. “Sorry.”

Her annoyed expression softened slightly. “Yeah, me, too. You probably just picked up on it from me. I wasn’t fair to her then, or you now. So I guess I’m the one who’s sorry.”

Sawyer liked to think he was a quick character study. That he could assess people in short order, but he was stymied by Willow Jones.

A thief—for sure. But also someone who admitted when she’d made a mistake. And a hard worker. And someone who wasn’t afraid to call an adult out when they were in the wrong.

“You sure you want to do this the whole summer? Even with the pool eating into it, I’ve got a lot of yard.”

Sawyer had fallen in love with the house the first time he’d walked through it with his real estate agent. He loved the hardwood floors and the open concept downstairs, but he’d almost turned it down because the yard was so big, and he thought a pool in Erie was really a waste of money and space. There were maybe three months out of the year that you could use it unless you heated it.

“I consider what you did today enough to balance your karma,” he added, and immediately hoped that he hadn’t put his foot in his mouth with the comment.

Willow shook her head, then took a long drink before saying, “No, Audrey’s right. She normally is. Don’t tell her I said that,” she added. “But I’ve thought about it and I do owe you.”

“I got all my stuff back.”

He’d been working the day Willow and her friends had broken into the house. He’d taken his car into the shop and their shuttle service had dropped him off at home. He assumed that was why the kids thought he wasn’t there.

He’d heard voices and a commotion downstairs, realized what was happening and called 9-1-1. Then he’d simply waited upstairs in his office for the cops to come.

A couple of his buddies had ribbed him about not playing Rambo, and if he’d known the thief was a teenage girl, he might have considered it. But there was nothing in his house he was willing to risk his life over. He’d just thrown the lock on the office door and waited.

Because he lived in Harborcreek, just outside of Erie proper, the state police were the responding officers. There was a barracks nearby and they were on the scene in five minutes.

They’d caught Willow red-handed.

She denied that she’d had accomplices, but Sawyer knew what he’d heard. And he really doubted that she was able to move his flat-screen TV on her own.

The cops had found that the trunk of his 1966 Pontiac GTO red convertible in the garage was loaded with other valuables. The fact that the miscreants had been planning to steal his car had made him the angriest. It was originally his father’s car and had languished in the barn out back until Sawyer fixed it up when he was sixteen. He’d worked for two summers to pay to rebuild it.

Willow hadn’t ever given the cops the names of the other thieves. She insisted that she’d been the only one.

When Sawyer said he’d heard conversations downstairs, she’d retorted, “I talk to myself. Most days, it’s the best conversation I’m likely to get.”

He added smart-ass to his mental list of things he knew about Willow. Thief, hard worker, loyal to her friends...and smart-ass.

She shook her head. “No, mowing your yard today isn’t enough. Maybe you got all your stuff back, but it’s the sense of violation. Bea got into my stuff the other day. She went in my room looking for paper and found a picture of mine. She took it and showed it to Audrey. I was so pissed—I mean, upset.”

“Audrey doesn’t like swearwords?” he asked.

“She says English is an amazingly complex language and I’m smart enough to find other words to use. Then she gave me a thesaurus.”

Sawyer found himself chuckling.

“It gets worse. She went through the thing and highlighted alternatives.”

“She sounds interesting.”

“Yeah, she’d say that interesting is a nicer word than crazy, so I’ll politely agree.” She finished her water in one long gulp. The ice tinkled against the glass as she set it down. “I’m just about done. I’ll be back next week. She’s coming to get me so I can clean up before we go out to dinner to celebrate.”

“Someone’s birthday?”

“Nah. Audrey’s always looking for a reason to celebrate. When you said I could come mow, it was the last day of school for the kids, so we celebrated...by watching a sunset on the peninsula and listening for the hiss.”

“Hiss?”

“Yeah, Bea has some dumb story about if you sit quiet enough and wait for it, you might hear the sun hiss when it hits the water. It’s some stupid fairy tale some stupid woman Audrey knows told them. She should teach the kid to face reality, not live in some fantasy world where kids use rainbows for slides, and wishes do come true.”

Sawyer didn’t know what to say to that, so he settled for asking, “What are you celebrating tonight?”

“Her firm got some educational building job that she really wanted.”

“What does she do? What sort of project?” he asked before he could stop himself. He thought he might have asked too much, but Willow didn’t seem to mind.

“She’s an architect and does all this funky green crap, uh...stuff. She’s all LEED certified—and before you ask, that means she makes the houses environmentally friendly—and this is some city project with the school district.” Willow shrugged. “I don’t know much about it, but she and the kids are majorly excited, so we’re going out to celebrate. I don’t know why you celebrate getting awarded a job that doesn’t pay you anything.”

Willow’s phone pinged and she scanned the message. “She’ll be here in a few minutes. I gotta run.”

She pushed the lawn mower to the front of the house, then came back and moved the barrels to the garbage bin. He grabbed one and followed.

“Hey, you don’t have to...” she started to protest.

“I’m just carrying a barrel, Willow. Your karma’s intact.”

She shrugged and went back for the third barrel while he grabbed the fourth.

A horn sounded out front. “That’s her,” she said.

Sawyer found himself following her out to the red SUV. The driver’s door opened and a woman got out.

He wasn’t sure what he expected in Audrey Smith. Willow had told him that her guardian was only a dozen years older than her, but this woman looked too young to be pushing thirty. She had dark, curly hair, caramel-colored skin and a quick smile. “Mr. Williams?”

He nodded. “Ms. Smith?”

“The one and only. Call me Audrey,” she added. She turned to her charge and asked, “How’d it go Willow?”

“Fine from my perspective.” She jerked her finger at Sawyer. “You’d have to ask him to see if he’s of the same opinion. I think he’d count it a success since I didn’t steal anything this time.”

Sawyer ignored Willow’s snarky comment. “She did great work,” he assured her guardian.

“I’m going to get the rest of my stuff,” Willow said, and bolted to the back, leaving them alone.

“Thank you for giving her a chance,” Audrey said. “I thought about talking to you myself, but I decided that it was more important for Willow to make it work on her own.”

“She was insistent. I’m pretty sure I didn’t have a choice.”

There was a slip in Audrey’s smile as she said with far more seriousness than his words merited, “Everyone has a choice. It’s simply sometimes we make the wrong one.”

The moment passed so quickly that he thought he’d imagined it, because in the next blink of an eye, Audrey’s smile was firmly back in place as she added, “And sometimes we make the right one. Giving Willow a second chance was the right one.”

“And what if she screws up?” he couldn’t help but ask.

“Then we’ll just give her another chance.”

“That’s what Willow said you’d say,” he told Audrey.

Her smile grew broader, if that was possible. “Then maybe I’m reaching her...at least a little.”

“She really doesn’t have to do more than this. She busted her hump today. I finally took pity on her and helped carry the garbage cans. She didn’t even want that much help.”

“You throw your grass clippings out?”

Too late he remembered Willow’s warning and he waited for her to lecture him on saving the planet, but she didn’t. She simply nodded.

“The county composts the clippings,” he added, though why he was defending himself he wasn’t sure.

Willow reappeared and Audrey said, “Let’s put the mower in the car.”

“I’ll help,” he offered.

Audrey shook her head. “We’re two capable women. We can manage. But thank you again for allowing Willow to come today.”

“I’ll see you next week,” Willow said.

As they got in he heard Audrey say, “Ready to party?”

Willow shrugged, but she looked at him and waved, and beneath her veneer of indifference, he thought he saw excitement.

He needed to get some work done, but rather than head back up to his office immediately, he watched until the red SUV disappeared around the corner.

“Hey, Sawyer,” Mrs. Wilson called from her driveway.

He waved back. She took it as an invitation to walk across the street and ask, “Did you fire your lawn service? I use them, too, and if you had a problem...”

He cut her off. “Not at all, Mrs. Wilson. I just decided to go another route this summer.”

“Did you know...” she said, and launched into a litany of neighborhood news. Doug and Julie down the street had their baby. It was a boy. He didn’t admit he didn’t have a clue who Doug and Julie were, and because of that, he hadn’t known they were expecting. Bill Teller’s boys were spending the summer with him. It would be nice for Gina’s son, Austen, who lived with them full-time. And...

Sawyer didn’t know many of the people she mentioned, but that wouldn’t matter to Mrs. Wilson. He knew Mrs. Wilson and the Tellers next to her, but that was about it. But Mrs. Williams still operated on the premise he not only knew the rest of the neighbors but wanted updates on their personal news.

He’d moved here because he wanted some anonymity. This wasn’t the first time that he’d realized his logic was faulty.

If he’d bought a condo in the Boston Store or at Lovell Place in downtown Erie, he suspected he’d have a lot more privacy than he did here with Mrs. Wilson keeping tabs on him and the rest of the neighborhood.

She finally wrapped up her neighborhood updates. “Well, I’m glad there wasn’t a problem with the lawn service. I’ll talk to you later, Sawyer.” She waved and headed back across the street.

He could have warned Mrs. Wilson that Willow was part of the group that had broken into his house, but she’d have spread the news through the neighborhood like an old-fashioned game of telephone.

He wasn’t sure why that bothered him but it did. Sawyer had no reason to trust Willow—as a matter of fact, he had a very good reason not to. But he didn’t think she was going to be breaking into any more houses.

He wasn’t sure if it was a reflection on Willow, or on her guardian.

He thought about Audrey Smith. She wore an air of perpetual happiness, but for a moment as they spoke, he thought he’d caught a glimpse of something else.

It made him wonder what lurked behind her happy facade.

Audrey had said, “Everyone has a choice. It’s simply sometimes we make the wrong one.”

Sawyer couldn’t help but wonder what wrong choices she’d made. And if those mistakes were the reason for that momentary look of sadness.

* * *

WILLOW WASN’T SURE what sort of celebration she expected, but this wasn’t it.

Not that she was surprised. In the four months she’d lived with Audrey, Clinton and Bea, they hadn’t once done anything that seemed...normal.

She’d grown up with other foster children. Most of the time when she went into a new home, there was some sort of pecking order the first few days. The oldest and strongest were at the top, along with the kids who had been in the home the longest. Everyone else was at the bottom.

She got moved around a lot, so she was used to finding her place at the bottom. She was okay with that. The first thing she did in any new home was find a place to stash her e-reader. It was a given that the other kids would go through her stuff. Sometimes it wasn’t just the kids; it was the foster parents themselves. She didn’t care if they took some of her clothes, or looked at her schoolbooks. She could get along without most of her things. And she never went into a new situation with any expectation of privacy. But she couldn’t lose her books. She wouldn’t last long without them.

When she was older and had a job, she was going to buy a book a week—an honest to goodness, hold-it-in-your-hands hardback book. New releases, dusty old tomes. She was going to have a bunch.

In her head, she could see her someday apartment. It would have ceiling-to-floor bookshelves. Week by week, book by book, she’d fill them all.

She hadn’t meant to break into anyone’s house. But Nico and Dusty claimed they had a foolproof plan and that the guy who owned the house would have insurance, so he wouldn’t be out money in the long run. His insurance would replace what they took.

She knew at the time it was a dumb idea. Yet she’d gone along because she’d thought she’d finally have some money to buy a book.

When the cops showed up, she’d been the one they caught. Nico and Dusty had run and left her holding the bag...or her side of the television, as it were. She could have dropped it to the ground and run, as well, but instead she’d held it up because she couldn’t stand the thought of breaking it.

After that, she’d spent some time in juvie. When she got out, her foster parents didn’t want her, so she’d been moved again. This time to Audrey’s.

But from the first day at Audrey’s, nothing she’d come to expect had happened.

She’d put a piece of tape at the bottom of her door so she could tell when anyone got into her room, but it never happened.

Bea went in the other day, but not to steal stuff. She’d wanted some paper. She’d snooped, but not in a malicious way. No, she’d acted almost as if she were a little sister. Not that Willow had any personal experience with little sisters, but as a reader she’d experienced a lot of them. She couldn’t help but think of Little Women. Or Trixie Belden. Younger siblings were prone to snooping.

But Bea wasn’t her sister. Not really.

And Audrey and the kids weren’t her family.

Sometimes, she almost forgot that.

She looked at the three of them. Clinton and Bea were in the backseat of the car, and she had the front. Audrey had a rule—the oldest person in the car got to sit up front. “...Willow, I said would you like that?” Audrey asked.

“What?” She’d missed the question.

“Your permit. You’re sixteen. You could have gotten it by now. I wondered if it was your choice, or no one had offered.”

“I...” Willow couldn’t hide her surprise. “You’d let me drive your car?”

“If you have your permit, yes. Why wouldn’t I?”

“What if I wreck it or...” She shrugged. She wasn’t sure what other damage she could do, but she knew that cars were expensive and she couldn’t imagine anyone letting a new driver use theirs.

She thought of Sawyer’s fancy car in the garage. He kept it covered with a tarp. They’d loaded it up after Nico found the keys on a hook in the kitchen. Given the care he gave it, she’d wondered if maybe the car was more than just a means of transportation to him.

“It’s a car, Willow,” Audrey said. “I’d be more worried about you getting hurt.”

Willow watched Audrey’s hands tighten on the steering wheel. She didn’t know what to make of Audrey...of any of them. “I was just sitting here thinking I don’t get any of you. It’s like you’re all alien pod-people. You can go through the motions of being human, but if anyone gets too close, they can see that there’s something wrong with you.”

Audrey laughed. “And what’s wrong with me is that I’d let you use my car to learn to drive?”

“That and so many other things. You don’t get mad. You’ve never hit me, or any of us. You seem happy all the time.”

“Except for at night,” Bea said quietly from the backseat. “She doesn’t seem happy at night.”

Willow looked back and there was something in both Bea’s and Clinton’s expressions that said she was missing something here.

She knew that Audrey had had a nightmare and wondered what it was about. She didn’t ask because that would be like admitting she was interested in her, and she knew from experience that wasn’t wise. She’d come to care for a few foster parents and think they might keep her. But they never had. Just like her own parents.

It was easier to not get too close.

She’d read enough books to know that’s what she was doing. She was keeping people at arm’s length to protect herself from being hurt. Sometimes she felt as if her true family existed only in books. Brave and stalwart people who’d never leave her. Who’d fight to keep her.

Maybe Audrey was different, but Willow didn’t want to count on it. So she simply said, “Yes. If you really mean it, I’d like to learn to drive.”

“Great. We’re going up Peach Street for dinner. We’ll stop at the DMV and pick up whatever we need for you to apply for a permit.”

“Okay,” was all she said.

“We’re going to the Mexican place,” Bea said. “I’m going to get...” She proceeded to list all the dishes she was going to eat. Audrey and Clinton joined in, then they started talking about the Greenhouse...

Willow let the conversation flow around her. She thought about the fact Audrey was going to let her learn to drive her car.

Willow stared out the passenger window and, for about the thousandth time, wondered about the family she’d found herself placed in.

Clinton and Bea were Audrey’s foster kids, too, but the three of them were definitely a family.

And a tiny part of her, a part she brutally pushed down whenever it appeared, wished that she were a part of their family, too.

But she wasn’t.

She had to remember that. Sooner or later, social services would move her again. Someday soon, though, she’d age out of their jurisdiction.

Then her life would really begin.

She’d get a job and have that apartment with shelves and every week she’d buy a new book to add to her collection...

CHAPTER FOUR

THE NEXT TWO WEEKS, Sawyer made it a point to be home early on Monday afternoons. He rationalized that when you had a convicted thief mowing your lawn, it was probably wise to be present and keep an eye on your house.

But if he was honest with himself, he wanted to see Willow’s guardian again.

Audrey Smith had been on his mind a lot.

The first week, he asked her about composting.

She went into a long discussion about open piles versus closed barrels. He found her enthusiasm for compost amusing, but he was also slightly envious. He couldn’t remember ever being that excited about anything.

As Willow finished mowing the following week, he came out with a glass of ice water and some chips. “They’re organic,” he assured her as he sat beside her on the picnic table bench.

He wasn’t someone who generally paid attention to the very few groceries he bought. But he figured Audrey did, so he’d chosen the organic kind of chips. And he had to admit, they were pretty good.

Willow took one and studied him a moment. “You like her,” she finally said.

He didn’t need to ask who Willow referred to. “She seems like...” He searched for a word and settled on, “An interesting woman. She’s passionate about the things she believes in.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Willow said. There was a slight scoff to her tone, but he heard something else. Maybe pride? “Audrey’s passion for her new work project is why the kids and I had to spend our weekend at an overgrown vacant lot. We couldn’t even mow it because there was so much junk piled up.”

“Junk?” he asked.

“Yeah, the site is downtown. The city owns it. I guess there used to be railroad tracks that went through there. Now that they’ve closed down and the land reverted to the city, they’re donating it to Audrey’s project. It’s wild and overgrown. We filled ten bags with garbage, and hauled away a bunch of bigger items that couldn’t be bagged.”

“Why is it up to you all to clear it?” he asked. “I thought Audrey was the architect.”

“Oh, cleaning up that lot isn’t her job or ours, and she is the architect, but this isn’t a normal project. It’s a volunteer thing. She says that it will pay off in the long run. Mr. Lebowitz—that’s her boss—will get publicity and she’ll be building a legacy. She could have waited for fall so some of the schoolkids could help clean...”

“Schoolkids?” he asked.

As if talking to a young child, Willow explained, “The project’s meant to educate and empower us, whatever that really means.”

“Oh. And Audrey’s...”

“Certified, like I said. She knows environmental rules and policies, so they talked to her, and she wanted the project. Her boss got behind the idea. He’s technically in charge, but he’s staying behind the scenes. It’s really her project. Which means we get to contribute, too, like it or not. Well, when she got the project, you’d have thought she won a gold medal. And Bea and Clinton, too.”

“And how are they related to her?”

“They’re not related at all, either. She’s just our foster mom. No one else could have gotten foster kids so young, but she decided Clinton was meant to be with her, and since he was with Bea in his last placement, Audrey got Bea, too. She’s convinced she can save the world...”

“One compost pile at a time,” he supplied.

Willow laughed. “Yeah. And she’s convinced she can save all the throwaway kids in the world.”

Was that how Willow saw herself? As a throwaway kid?

Audrey and two kids came into the backyard. Bea and Clinton, he guessed.

Willow jumped up, as if she’d been caught slacking. “You’re early.”

“I brought Sawyer a present,” she said. “But first, Sawyer, this is Clinton and Beatrice...”

“Bea,” the young girl corrected.

“Bea,” Audrey confirmed for him. “Guys, this is Mr. Williams.”

Mr. Williams always had him looking for his dad.

“You can call me Sawyer,” he told Audrey’s kids.

The boy—Clinton—had rusty colored hair and freckles. More freckles than Sawyer had ever seen on one face. And the girl had light brown skin, with a long dark brown braid that ran down her back and landed at her hips.

Audrey and the boy went back to the front of the house and returned with a black barrel suspended on a metal rack.

Sawyer looked at Willow, who softly supplied, “Composter.”

“Of course it is,” he whispered back. He knew he was grinning like a schoolkid who just got picked first for the team.

Audrey set the black barrel down in front of him. “You asked about composters last week, so I didn’t think you’d be offended. It’s got a handle and you just give it a turn now and then, add some water, and soon you’ll have compost for all your planting beds. I thought you could put it next to your garbage bin.”

Before he knew it, she set it up and, with the kids’ help, gave him a rundown on how to use it.

He listened and nodded, and couldn’t help but think, What a weird woman. Odd. It wasn’t her composting and environmental principles—hippie chick stuff, as Willow would say. No, he could understand and admire that kind of passion.

It was the rest. He wasn’t sure he knew what to make of a woman who took in foster kids, volunteered for what seemed to be very time-consuming projects and believed in second chances.

Or third chances.

She seemed willing to give of herself with that project at work, but also with the kids she took in and now with him. A virtual stranger.

He wondered when the last time was that he gave something of himself with no expectation of getting something in return.

When Audrey wound down, he was surprised to hear himself asking, “What are you doing for the Fourth?”

Audrey, who always seemed like a whirlwind of movement, stopped a moment. Completely stopped. “The Fourth of July?”

Emphasizing each word, he slowly repeated. “The. Fourth. Of. July. Independence Day. Do you have plans?”

She shook her head. “Not plans per se. I don’t work, so I’ll be spending the day with the kids.”

“I thought I could pay you back for your kindness and the composter by having a picnic here. For you and the kids,” he added.

She was going to say no. He could see it in her expression. She got as far as the word “I...”

He cut her off. “If you say no, I’ll probably just spend the day in my office working.” This was an out-and-out lie. He’d planned to go visit his friend Martin Pennington and his wife, Jan. When Millie left, they’d taken him under their wings. He didn’t find it a comfortable place to be because he hated feeling like an obligation.

“Let me pay back your kindness,” he said. “The kids can go swimming and we’ll picnic.”

Audrey was silent. He thought she was going to politely refuse, but finally she nodded and said, “Only if you let me bring something.”

“Done.”

The kids were helping Willow take her tools to the front.

He hated that she was leaving. Under other circumstances, he might ask her out for lunch, or drinks. Eventually, if that went well, dinner and a movie, or a show. He’d take it slow and play it cool.

With Audrey, cool didn’t seem to apply. Not at all.

She turned to follow after the kids, but he said, “Listen, I went down to Miller Brothers and ordered a lawn mower. It will be here next week, so you won’t have to haul yours back and forth anymore.”

Audrey stopped, turned around and looked at him. For a moment, Sawyer felt like an open book. As if she could see everything about him. Then she smiled, obviously happy with whatever she’d seen. “You are a very nice man, Sawyer Williams.”

“It’s nothing to do with nice. It just seemed silly to make you haul your lawn mower over here every week.”

“I maintain that you are nice, but I’ll let you keep your illusion that you’re not. And thank you.” She turned and headed toward the front of the house.

He followed her. The kids were busy loading stuff in the car.

“And thank you again for giving Willow a chance.”

Sawyer looked at Audrey. “May I ask why you took in a kid who’s only a dozen years younger than you and has a record?”

She turned to him and her brown eyes met his. He noticed there were gold flecks in them. “Because no one else would.”

He waited to see if she was going to add anything else, but it became apparent she wasn’t. “There’s more to it than that. You’re young. Why saddle yourself with three kids?” Throwaways, Willow had said.

“Because when I was young, I was just like them. Moved from family to family, from home to home, but none of the places I lived was my home—my family. I had two friends back then. They cared. And that made all the difference. I never got a home, but I’ve given those three kids one. It’s not traditional family, and you’re right, I’m young. But no kid in the foster system is looking for a perfect family...they just want someone to belong to. Someplace to call home. I try to do that for these three.”

“But how did you get started?” he asked.

“That is a long story.”

He was about to say he could manage long when she added, “Too long for today.” She looked away from him, her attention back on the kids.

“Come on, Aud,” Clinton called.

It took Sawyer a second to realize the boy had called her Aud, not Odd. He might not know Audrey very well yet, but he knew she was odd—in a very good way. Not many people her age took on the responsibility of three kids, one of whom had a checkered past.

“What time would you like us to come over on Saturday?” Audrey asked as she started toward the car.

“How about noon?”

“That sounds great.”

“Have the kids bring their suits,” he reminded her.

Audrey nodded. “See you then.” With that, she got in the car with the kids and backed out of his driveway. With other women, even his ex, Millie, he’d had playing it cool down to a science. He did enough, but not too much. He called, but not too often. Now as he stood staring down the road long after she’d disappeared, he realized he was anxious to see Audrey.

Saturday couldn’t come soon enough.

* * *

“SO, WHAT DO you think?” Audrey asked Willow as she drove toward home. Bea and Clinton were in the back playing some game on the iPad.

She was really directing the question to herself. What did she think about Sawyer Williams?

“About what?” Willow asked.

“About Sawyer.” He was a handsome man, but that didn’t count much in Audrey’s book. Sure, she noticed, but more than that she’d noticed he was kind. He’d gone out and bought a lawn mower so they wouldn’t have to haul hers back and forth.

And he’d given Willow a chance. A lot of men wouldn’t have. That was kind.

She didn’t say any of that. Instead, she said, “I’ve noticed he’s been around on the afternoons you mow.”

Willow snorted. “Yeah, I think that’s a case of self-preservation. He’s probably afraid I’m going to break in again.”

“If that was true, I don’t think he’d come down and help you clean up.”

Audrey was watching the road, but she caught Willow’s shrug.

“He seems okay for an old guy,” she admitted grudgingly. “And he’s been pretty decent to me, despite the fact I broke into his house.”

“Not just you. You and someone else.”

Willow hadn’t ever admitted anyone was with her. But her caseworker said that Sawyer had heard voices. Plural.

Willow didn’t respond. Not that Audrey expected her to. She kept hoping Willow would confide in her, but she reminded herself that she couldn’t push. “Sawyer’s invited us to his place for a picnic on the Fourth.”

“I was thinking about going down to the bay to watch fireworks with some friends.” Willow’s tone said more than her words. She didn’t want to spend the day at Sawyer’s. Or maybe she didn’t want to spend the day with Audrey and the kids.

Or maybe she was a sixteen-year-old who simply wanted to spend time with friends.

As much as Audrey worried about Willow’s friends, wondering if they were the kids Willow was protecting, she knew she had to trust her.

Her job as guardian was to give Willow rules and guidelines, and then trust that she would act wisely. Well, as wisely as any sixteen-year-old ever acted. “I think we can manage both. I was planning on all of us driving down to the bayfront for the fireworks. We’re going over to Sawyer’s place around noon, so there will be plenty of time after.”

She could almost feel the air shift around Willow’s shrug. “Guess you’ve made up your mind.”

“You can meet up with your friends when we get downtown,” Audrey offered.

For a moment she thought Willow was going to argue, but instead the girl simply said, “Okay.”

“Who’re you meeting?” she asked as nonchalantly as she could manage.

“Just some friends.”

Audrey fought back her frustration. Patience, she reminded herself. Time and patience.

“So we gotta go back there on Saturday?” Clinton asked from the backseat.

“For a picnic. Sawyer said bring your swimsuits.”

Bea started shrieking. Audrey glanced back and saw Clinton smile indulgently at Bea. And though Willow didn’t say anything, there was a hint of a smile on her face.

Audrey had to admit she felt excited about the prospect of seeing Sawyer on Saturday. She tried to tell herself it was merely because the kids would have fun swimming, but she suspected she was lying to herself.

* * *

MAGGIE MAY WAS at Audrey’s front door promptly at seven-thirty the next morning. She had on the tie-dyed oven mitts Clinton and Bea had bought her last Christmas. Those mitts gripped a cake tin of cinnamon rolls, Maggie May’s specialty.

“What’s the occasion?” Audrey asked as she let her in.

“I woke up at five and couldn’t go back to sleep, so I decided to put my time to good use.” She walked into the kitchen as she had so many times over the years. “They talk about all kinds of age-related issues, but they don’t warn you about the sleep problems. I’m up before the crack of dawn each day, but if I sit for more than a minute during the day, I nod off. Getting old ain’t for the faint of heart,” she said with a chuckle as she pulled a trivet from the drawer and set the pan on it.

She turned and looked at Audrey. “Have a roll before you go, and take one to your boss, too. That man looks as if a stiff breeze could blow him away.”

Neither Mr. Lebowitz nor Maggie May had any family to mention so they both spent holidays with Audrey and the kids.

There was a look in Maggie’s eyes that had Audrey wondering all over again... Mr. Lebowitz and Maggie?

She had to admit there was some merit in the idea. She wondered when she could get them together again without seeming obvious.

She laughed. She’d never managed to make a relationship work for herself, so why on earth did she imagine she could help other people hook up?

“Mr. Lebowitz will be thrilled. No one makes a better cinnamon roll than you do,” she said.

Maggie puffed up a bit. “Well, that’s sweet of you to say. Now where are the kids?”

“Still in bed.”

Maggie May shook her head. “That kind of sleep is wasted on the young. They don’t appreciate it. To be honest, a lot of things are wasted on the young. You all are always in such a hurry to make your mark and get to this or that. Sometimes you need to slow down and smell...”

Audrey interrupted. “The cinnamon rolls.”

Maggie chuckled and got out one of Audrey’s storage containers, popped a couple rolls in it and said, “Now see to it your boss eats one of these.”

“I will,” Audrey promised.

“Have a good day,” Maggie said. “I think the kids and I are going to go spend the day at the pool.”

Audrey bought a membership to a local pool every summer. Bea especially loved the water. She was going to have a blast on Saturday.

“Have a good day, Audrey,” Maggie said.

“You, too.”

“Oh, I will. I’ve got a new JoAnn Ross book. I plan to curl up under an umbrella and have at it.”

Maggie was a bookworm. “Tell the kids I’ll call at lunch.”

“I will. But we’ll be fine. Shoo.”

It was a ten-minute drive from her home in Wesleyville to work in downtown Erie.

Abe Lebowitz had opened his firm in a historic brick storefront on West Fifth Street. Audrey loved that from the office she could walk down to the dock or to Erie’s Perry Square, a two-block downtown park.

Today, as she went inside, she took a moment to study the photos in the public reception room, pictures of homes Mr. Lebowitz had helped design or remodel. Someday Audrey hoped to have such a body of work behind her. Though she’d taken on a few projects that she ran point on and Mr. Lebotwitz simply supervised, the Greenhouse was the first project that she truly felt was her baby. It would be the first picture on her wall.

When she’d graduated, she’d considered applying for a job at a bigger firm in a bigger city. But she knew it would take years before she’d have a chance to really get some hands-on work. And truly, the city of Erie was as close to a home as she could come.

As an intern for Mr. Lebowitz’s one-man business, she’d had a chance to take more active roles in design and meeting with clients. That’s what convinced her that going to work for him was the right move. And she’d made a good choice. She was basically his girl Friday. She did a little bit of everything and felt she had more practical experience than a lot of architects her age.

She glanced at the clock on her phone.

Half an hour before clients—the Castellinis—came in.

She had to get her day started.

As if on cue, Mr. Lebowitz called out, “Audrey, is that you?”

“No, Mr. Lebowitz. It’s someone else entirely.”

“Cheeky girl,” he called, laughter tingeing his voice. “Come in here if you have a moment.”

She left the reception room, headed past her office door and Mr. Lebowitz’s public office to the back room she called his “cave.” He was in a white button-down shirt that was open at the collar and had its sleeves rolled up. He smiled as she walked in.

Audrey set the cinnamon bun in front of him and his smile broadened. “Maggie was baking this morning.”

“She made this from scratch?” he asked, picking up the roll almost with reverence.

“She did,” Audrey informed him. “She said to be sure you ate it because you’re too thin.”

“Other than seeing clearly,” he said, patting his slightly paunchy stomach, “is there anything that woman can’t do?”

“Nothing I know of,” Audrey assured him.

He took a bite and groaned. “Wow.”

“You called me back because you wanted something?” she prompted.

Mr. Lebowitz was lost in a cinnamon brain fog. Audrey watched as he tried to clear his head enough to remember why he’d summoned her.

“Oh, yes.” He dug through a precarious-looking pile of papers and pulled out a neon orange Post-it. Audrey did the ordering for the firm, and chose the brightest sticker notes she could find so they would stand out amid the clutter.

“Marcia James, the mayor’s assistant, and Ms. Wilkins, the educational enrichment coordinator for the school district, set up a tentative meeting for Friday. Marcia asked that you confirm.”

She took the Post-it. “Sure. I can make that work.”

“Great. Now, go get ready for the Castellinis. I’m going to sit back and savor my cinnamon roll. And when you have a minute, could you give me Maggie’s phone number so I can thank her properly?”

Audrey tried to keep the speculation out of her voice as she said, “She’s at my house with the kids today, so you can reach her there.”

“Great. I will.”

And because the matchmaking bug had hit, she added, “You know, you should probably think of a way to reciprocate. Maybe ask her out to dinner some night?”

She left before he could respond.

What was with her? She had romance on her mind, and that wasn’t like her at all. Between the kids, work and now the Greenhouse, her life was full. She didn’t have time to date, which was good because her last attempt had been a disaster.

She’d been held up at a meeting that ran late, and got home just in time for Maggie May to apologize profusely and say she had some stomach bug and couldn’t babysit. It was too late when... What was the guy’s name? Paul. That was it.

He was a nice zoologist. It was too late to call and cancel. She opened the front door just as Bea told her she was feeling sick. He stepped inside and... Bea barfed on his shoes.

She would have thought a guy who dealt with zoo animals on a daily basis could handle a little vomit.

He couldn’t.

That had been right before Willow came to stay with them.

Audrey still got asked out on occasion, but she’d said no the past few months. She was trying to build a connection with Willow and didn’t want to divide her attention.

So why, all of a sudden, was she trying to fix up Mr. Lebowitz and Maggie May?

And why, when she thought about them dating, did she think about dating, as well?

And the biggest question of all... Why was it Sawyer Williams she imagined sitting across a restaurant table from her?

Clutching her orange Post-it note, she hurried into her office.

She had a lot of work to do. Notes to pull together for her clients Marcia and Ms. Wilkins. The Castellini meeting.

She was not going to think about fixing up Mr. Lebowitz and Maggie May.

And more than that, she was not going to think about dating anyone herself.

Especially not Sawyer Williams.

CHAPTER FIVE

AUDREY’S FIRST THOUGHT on Saturday was, Today we go to Sawyer’s.

She felt...excited. She tamped down the feeling and reminded herself that this wasn’t a date. Sawyer was a nice man who, despite himself, was taking an interest in Willow.

That was a good thing.

She knew from personal experience that having people care about you made a difference in how you saw yourself. She got out of bed and meandered downstairs.

Weekdays were frenetic, which was why she savored moving at a snail’s pace on the weekends.

She smelled coffee before she got all the way down the stairs. Willow had beat her to the kitchen.

Most nights Willow went up to her room around nine. But she rarely came downstairs early. She definitely had that teenage ability to sleep late down to a science.

“I started your coffee,” she said. “I was just going to come wake you up. You said we could go to the DMV when I was ready. Well, I’m ready.”

This was the first time Audrey had seen Willow so excited. She hadn’t wanted to offer to let Willow learn to drive. She knew that any number of things could happen. For years she’d avoided learning to drive herself.

But it was her job to prepare Willow for adulthood. And if Audrey taught her, she could make sure Willow drove as safely and responsibly as possible.

Still, things could happen. Things you couldn’t control.

She pushed the thought away and concentrated on her smiling charge.

“Willow, I know you’re excited, but it’s a holiday. The DMV is closed.”

“Oh. I checked that it had Saturday hours, but I forgot it was a holiday.”

Her disappointment was palpable.

“Tell you what, I’ll try to get out of work early on Monday and take you up before you go to Sawyer’s.”

“Really?”

“Really. I’ll text Mr. Lebowitz today, but I’m sure he won’t mind.” He genuinely liked her kids and allowed her to juggle her schedule to make things work for them. She always made up the time later.

“You don’t have to go to any trouble for me,” Willow said.

“I know I don’t have to,” Audrey assured her. “But I want to. You’re worth a bit of trouble now and again.”

Willow looked as if she wanted to say something, but she sat mutely.

Audrey didn’t push. She poured herself a cup of coffee and took the stool next to Willow’s. “You are worth it, you know.”

“Worth what?” Willow scoffed, but Audrey knew the question was genuine. “Me juggling my schedule. You’re worth that and a lot more. I can’t say I will always be able to accommodate you, but I can say that if it’s important to you, it’s important to me and I’ll try.” She took a sip of coffee. “Do you need me to quiz you for the test?”

“No. I’ve got it.” With this, at least, Willow sounded confident.

“What’s the name of the rule that you use to maintain a safe distance from the car in front of you?”

Willow rolled her eyes. “The four-second rule.”

“You’ve read the book.” Audrey had never seen Willow pick up so much as a textbook and yet she had good grades.

Willow seemed to be thinking hard for a minute. Finally, she made her decision. “Hang on. I’ve got something to show you.”

Audrey sat drinking her coffee as Willow disappeared up the stairs. Moments later, she returned and set an e-reader on the counter. “I don’t normally read in public,” she said, as if this was a huge deal. “I got used to hiding out when I read.”

Audrey couldn’t imagine why Willow would feel that was necessary. “Why hide?”

“People stole my books at one house,” she said simply.

It was as if a lightbulb clicked on. Audrey remembered what it was like to know that privacy wasn’t an option.

Willow continued. “And I tried going to the library, but a lot of the places I’ve stayed weren’t close to a branch. And I couldn’t count on rides to return the books I borrowed, so I saved my money for a year and bought this. And I worked for the money,” she said hastily, as if she didn’t want Audrey to think she made stealing a habit.

“I was staying with a family and they paid all the kids allowances. We had a chore list, so I did the other kids’ chores for a stake in their allowance. It still took me a long time to save.”

Audrey cocked her head, silently asking for permission to pick it up. Willow nodded. The small device weighed less than Audrey imagined. “I’ve never had an e-reader.”

“They’re amazing. You can borrow ebooks from the library. It’s not quite the same as a real book, but...” She shrugged.

Audrey picked up the reader. “Why hide it from us?”

“Because people take your stuff at most places. I just sort of expect it. But it didn’t happen here. For the first month I put tape on my door, just so I’d know when you all broke in,” Willow admitted. “But the only time you ever came in here was to take clothes or change the sheets. And when Bea snoops, but she doesn’t usually take anything.”

“I would never invade your privacy.” Audrey hesitated. “Well, under normal circumstances, I would never invade your privacy. If I thought you were doing something dangerous, I might.”

Willow nodded. “I know that now.”

Audrey set the e-reader back on the counter. “What do you like to read?”

“Everything. Anything. The library has limited supplies of ebooks, but a lot of the public domain classics are available for free online.”

“Can I see your list?”

Willow nodded.

Audrey turned on the machine and homed in on the bookshelf page. “Wow.”

From Pride and Prejudice to Tarzan to Sherlock Holmes, page after page of classics.

“I watch for older books that are free,” Willow said, “and I borrow newer releases from the library.”

Audrey handed the reader back to her. “I hope you feel comfortable reading in front of us this summer. That’s why I never saw you with the permit booklet?”

Willow nodded. “I knew that no one would steal that, but I just read it instead of my books at night.”

That explained how Willow could go up to bed at nine and still manage to sleep away her weekends. It also explained why sometimes Audrey saw the light on in the girl’s room when she went to bed.

She realized that even though she sometimes doubted it, she was making inroads with Willow. The girl trusted her, at least a little.

“Thank you for sharing with me,” Audrey told her.

Willow nodded. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, I still think you all are nuts, but this has been the best placement I’ve ever had. When I realized that you guys weren’t going to rip off my stuff, I felt...relieved. You don’t know what it’s like having only a few things that matter to you and having to guard them all the time.”

“You’re wrong, I do understand that feeling.”

“And I just realized that when I ripped off Sawyer, I was doing the same kind of thing to him. They said...” She fell silent.

Audrey couldn’t help but wonder if the they Willow referred to were the other kids involved in the break-in. Willow regrouped. “Most of what we...what I took was electronics, and this—” she held up her reader “—is the same thing, just a piece of electronic equipment, but it’s mine. And it means a lot to me. I worked hard to get it, and I’ve worked even harder to keep it. So it hit me that I did the same thing to him that others did to me. I took the things he worked for. I stole his sense of trust. I never had that until I came here. Sawyer did—he felt like his home was a safe place until I came and stole that feeling away from him. Even if we’d taken all his stuff and it was covered by insurance, that feeling of safety is gone forever. He comes home every Monday to watch me mow because he’s afraid I’ll do it again.”

“Willow, I think he respects what you’re trying to do. That’s why he invited us over today.”

Willow shrugged.

“And even if Sawyer doesn’t realize you’d never rip him off again, I do,” she said, meaning every word of it. Something in her eased just to express that trust out loud.

She’d thought Willow might look pleased with her assurances, but instead she looked confused. “Well, thanks, I guess.”

“And thank you for the coffee. Between you and Bea, I’m getting spoiled.”

“Its just coffee,” Willow said as she picked up her e-reader and left the room.

Audrey took a long sip. It didn’t taste like just coffee to her.

It tasted a bit like success...or at least the beginnings of it.

* * *

BY THE TIME Audrey packed the kids in the car later that morning and headed over to Sawyer’s she’d spent a few hours mulling over Willow’s revelations. And the longer she mulled, the more optimistic she felt. She was making progress.

It was the first time the girl had really opened up. Plus there was the fact that Willow was a reader.

She was going to make it a point to take her to the bookstore soon.

By the time they reached Sawyer’s she was flying high. She put the car in Park, turned around and looked at the kids as she said, “Remember, everyone be polite and on your best behavior.”

Clinton and Bea gave her their best innocent looks. Clinton went so far as to point to himself with raised eyebrows.

Audrey laughed. “Yes, I mean you two.”

She opened her car door and they were in the house before Audrey had gotten her salad from the back. Willow had insisted on making something, too, and had held it on her lap for the ride.

“Are you going to tell me about that?” Audrey asked, nodding at the dish.

“It’s a joke,” Willow told her. “Sawyer will get it.”

He was waiting at the front door for them. “The other two asked if they could go out to the pool. I hope you don’t mind. I told them to stay in the shallow end until we get out.”

“That’s fine,” Audrey assured him.

He took the macaroni salad from her.

“I made something, too,” Willow announced. “Just for you, Sawyer.”

“She wouldn’t even let me in the kitchen yesterday when she cooked it—whatever it is,” Audrey added.

Sawyer started to laugh. “I think I can guess at least one ingredient.”

Willow grinned, “Quinoa salad.”

Sawyer’s chuckle graduated to a full-blown belly laugh, and Willow joined in.

Audrey felt totally left out. “Is anyone going to share?”

The two of them were laughing too hard to get out any coherent words.

“Fine. Keep your joke to yourselves.” She tried to sound disgruntled, but secretly she was pleased that Sawyer had made some kind of connection with Willow. This day was getting better and better. “We should probably go make sure the kids aren’t drowning each other.”

Sawyer stowed both of the salads in the refrigerator, and asked, “Can I get you something to drink?”

“Just ice water for me,” Audrey said.

“Nothing yet for me,” Willow said. “I’ll go check on the kids.”

“So are you going to tell me what that was about?” Audrey asked.

“The day I agreed to let Willow come mow? She used quinoa as a threat...well, really, she was threatening me with you, and quinoa was her example of how diabolical you are.”

“Diabolical?” Audrey asked. “Willow threatened you with me?”

“She said if I said no to letting her come mow, then you’d get out of the car and convince me. She said that once you set your mind to something, you made it happen. She used the fact you got her to eat quinoa as an example. I had to look it up,” he added.

Audrey laughed, thoroughly delighted. “It’s good to know she thinks I’m persuasive.”

“Let’s go out by the pool,” Sawyer said, and led the way.

“There you are,” Bea shouted, and swam from the shallow end of the pool toward the deep end with Clinton on her heels.

Willow was sitting on the edge of the pool, dangling her feet in the water.

“Are you going in?” Audrey asked her.

Willow shook her head. “No. I can’t swim.”

Clinton swam over to Willow. “Come on into the shallow end. I’ll teach you.”

Willow shook her head. “No, that’s okay.”

“Me and Bea couldn’t swim when we moved in with Audrey.”

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