"I'm trying to get a picture of him palling around with Connor."
The amusement in her eyes fired into temper so quickly it fascinated him. "And you have a problem with that?"
"I'm trying to get a picture," Jared repeated, "of the live wire that just headed upstairs and the quiet, painfully shy Connor Dolin. Kids as confident as your son don't usually choose boys like Connor for friends."
Temper smoothed out. "They just clicked. Bryan hasn't had a lot of opportunity to keep friends. We've moved around a great deal. That's changing."
"What brought you here?"
"I was—" She broke off, and her lips curved. "Now you're trying to be neighborly so that I'll soften up and take this little problem off your hands. Forget it." She turned to take a package of chicken breasts out of the refrigerator.
"Seven thousand dollars is a lot of money. If you put it in a college fund now, it would give your son a good start when he's ready for it."
"When and if Bryan's ready for college, I'll put him through myself."
"I understand about pride, Ms. Morningstar. That's why it's easy for me to see when it's misplaced."
She turned again and flipped her braid behind her shoulder. "You must be the patient, by-the-book, polite type, Mr. MacKade."
The grin that beamed out at her nearly made her blink. She was sure there were states where that kind of weapon was illegal.
"Don't get to town much, do you?" Jared murmured. "You'd hear different. Ask Connor's mama about the MacKades sometime, Ms. Morningstar. I'll leave the papers." He slipped his sunglasses on again. "You think it over and get back to me. I'm in the book."
She stayed where she was, a frown on her face and a cold package of raw chicken in her hands. She was still there when his car's engine roared to life and her son came darting back down the stairs.
Quickly she snatched up the papers and pushed them into the closest drawer.
"What was he here for?" Bryan wanted to know. "How come he was wearing a suit?"
"A lot of men wear suits.'' She would evade, but she wouldn't lie, not to Bryan. "And stay out of the refrigerator. I'm starting dinner."
With his hand on the door of the fridge, Bryan rolled his eyes. "I'm starving. I can't wait for dinner."
Savannah plucked an apple from a bowl and tossed it over her shoulder, smiling to herself when she heard the solid smack of Bryan's catch.
"Shane said it was okay if we went by after school tomorrow and looked at the kittens some more. The farm's really cool, Mom. You should see."
"I've seen farms before."
"Yeah, but this one's neat. He's got two dogs. Fred and Ethel."
"Fred and—" She broke off into laughter. "Maybe I will have to see that."
"And from the hayloft you can see clear into town. Connor says part of the battle was fought right there on the fields. Probably dead guys everywhere."
"Now that sounds really enticing."
"And I was thinking—" Bryan crunched into his apple, tried to sound casual "—you'd maybe want to come over and look at the kittens."
"Oh, would I?"
"Well, yeah. Connor said maybe Shane would give some away when they were weaned. You might want one."
She set a lid on the chicken she was sauteing. "I would?"
"Sure, yeah, for, like, company when I'm in school." He smiled winningly. "So you wouldn't get lonely."
Savannah shifted her weight onto her hip and studied him owlishly. "That's a good one, Bry. Really smooth."