so absorbed in what they were doing that neither one of them even heard the truck.
He considered blowing the horn, but he didn’t want to scare the little fellas, so he opened his door and swung out of the truck, intending to call to them to move out of the road.
That’s when he saw the flames.
“Hey!” That wasn’t dust; it was fire! He didn’t have much experience with kids, but he knew nobody in their right mind would allow boys this small to mess around with fire.
As he started forward, the oldest child looked up. A broad smile split his face and he hollered, “Hi-ya, Mr. Sullivan, it works! Come see our fire!”
Since he planned on doing exactly that, he walked up and hunkered down beside the smaller boy. The flames were still a tiny blaze, hungrily licking at the leaves. “What are you doing?”
Tommy held up a magnifying glass. “On TV Yogi an’ Boo-Boo started a fire wif a mag-i, man-i—”
“Magnifying glass,” supplied his brother. “And so did we!”
“Umm, that’s interesting.” Ronan took the magnifying glass and pretended to examine it while he eyed the little blaze. “But you don’t want that fire to get very big.”
“No,” agreed the littlest boy. He stood and pulled something out of one pocket of the sturdy, very grubby jeans he wore. “We’re gonna put it out.”
Glancing down at the small hand thrust under his nose, Ronan couldn’t help but grin. The little guy had a yellow plastic water pistol, primed with enough water to douse a match—maybe. “Good idea,” he told the child solemnly, pressing his lips together to prevent the chuckle that was trying to escape. “But I know another way to put out a small fire like this. Want me to show you?”
“Okay!” Both little boys stepped back as he stood.
“Fire needs air to breathe, just like you do,” he explained. “I’m going to step on it, keep it from getting any air, until it dies.”
“Can we help?”
“Sure.” Anything to get that fire out before it realized how much prime fuel surrounded it. “One, two, three, stomp!” And as he did, he slipped the magnifying glass into his pocket. Where in the heck was their mother, and what was she thinking, to be letting them try a dangerous stunt like this?
It didn’t take much convincing to get the boys interested in a ride in the truck—another issue he’d mention to their mother. He boosted them in and drove on down the lane to the house, parking in the graveled area next to the old barn. As he lifted each child from the truck, a battered green Bronco came jouncing across the pasture farthest from him. As it neared, he saw Deirdre was driving. She looked scared and upset—until she saw the children. Then her expression changed to pure fury.
She was out of the Bronco almost before it slid to a stop. “Where were you?” she demanded. “I specifically told you to stay in the yard.” Her pretty, heart-shaped face was stern, and she tapped her foot as she waited for an answer.
Ronan was fascinated. He’d thought the phrase, “Vibrated with anger,” was a figurative description until now.
“But the yawd bums,” Tommy offered.
“Yeah, we didn’t want to start a big fire,” said Lee.
“A fire?” Her green eyes grew round. “Where did you get matches? What did you set fire to? Is it still burning?”
Ronan cleared his throat as he reached into his pocket, offering her the magnifying lens. “The intrepid scouts here didn’t need matches. I helped them put it out.”
“You’re kidding.” She took the item from him as if it might bite. “You actually started a fire with this?” she said to the boys.
“Yep!” Tommy, less experienced at reading his mother’s ire, swelled with pride.
She didn’t miss a beat. “And is it okay to play with fire?”
Both children visibly sagged. Small voices muttered, “No.”
“That’s right,” she said. “And what’s the rule about fire?”
“There has to be a grown-up with us.” The older boy looked chastened—but not exactly sorry.
“And what happens when you don’t follow the rules?”
As one, two little faces fell, and they turned toward the house. “Go to our rooms,” they said in mournful unison.
“I’ll let you know when you can come out,” she called after them. Then she turned to Ronan. “Mr. Sullivan, I don’t know what to say, except thank you again.” She sighed, looking at the magnifying glass and shaking her head. “They can find things to get into that I’ve never even thought of.”
He couldn’t suppress his grin any longer. “They were pretty proud of that trick.”
She shuddered. “Thank God you came along when you did. I went the other way to look for them because that creek is like a magnet. I was sure they were down there.” She slipped the lens into her own pocket. “You know, if you decide to stay here, you’ll have to put up with them.”
He chuckled. “They aren’t so bad. Just lively.”
“You can say that again.” She shook her head in exasperation and blew out a breath as she shoved stray black curls out of her peripheral vision. Pointing to the stable as she began to walk, she indicated that he should follow her. “I’m sure you’ll think twice about this apartment when you see it. I’ve been planning to fix it up, but I just haven’t gotten around to it yet. As I said, it needs a lot of work.”
“I don’t mind work,” he said mildly.
“And Butler County isn’t exactly a hotbed of social events. You’ll have to drive back into Baltimore for any kind of nightlife.”
“Definitely not high on my list.” The thought of social events led like an electrical current through a chain of thought that halted at the first time he’d ever met this woman. As he followed her into the barn and up a flight of stairs, he could almost see her sitting in a pool of candlelight, a strained, obviously false smile pasted on her pretty face.
The social event had been the annual Christmas party for the office employees of Bethlehem Steel. His cousin Arden, being between boyfriends, had invited him. He hadn’t had any plans, so he’d agreed to go. They were seated at dinner by name cards, eight to a table. He and Arden had been paired with one of the company vice presidents and his wife, the vice president’s executive secretary and her husband, and Deirdre and Nelson Patten, who was another top executive.
Drink had flowed freely during dinner, too freely, and Patten had gotten slurring and stupid, well before the end of the meal. His wife had sat in embarrassed silence, eyes on her plate unless someone spoke directly to her.
He’d been struck by her unusual beauty, unable to keep his eyes off her—and the first time she’d risen to visit the ladies’ room, he’d realized that she was heavily pregnant. He’d never thought pregnant women were particularly sexy, but his body seemed to
