achel made a great play out of drinking the water. When she was done, she cupped the top of Edward's head. "Let's tuck you back in bed."

Gabe stepped forward. He knew this had to be settled before she shuffled him off. He eyed the small boy, remembering the fury of those young fists and, for a fleeting moment, he saw the child as he was and not as a shadow of someone else.

"Chip, I like your mother very much, and I'd never hurt her. I want you to remember that. If you see us touching each other again, you'll know it's because we want to touch and not because anything's wrong."

Edward gave his mother a look of disbelief. "How could you want to touch him?"

"I know it's hard for you to understand, especially since you and Gabe haven't been getting along very well, but I like being with him."

The boy regarded her mutinously. "If you got to touch somebody, you touch me!"

She smiled. "I love touching you. But I'm a grown-up woman, Edward, and sometimes I need to touch a grownup man."

"Then you can touch Pastor Ethan."

Rachel had the nerve to laugh. "I don't think so, pug. Pastor Ethan is your friend, and Gabe is mine."

"They're not brothers, no matter what he says."

"Tomorrow when you see Pastor Ethan at school, why don't you ask him about it?"

Gabe noticed that his briefs were in imminent danger of sliding off Rachel's hips. "Come on, Chip. Let's give Tweety Bird one more feeding before you go back to bed."

But Edward was too smart to be bought off that easily. "How do I know you won't start kissing her again?"

"I will kiss her," he said firmly, "but only when your mother says it's okay."

"It's not okay!" Edward stomped toward the door. "And I'm going to tell Pastor Ethan on you!"

"Terrific," Gabe muttered. "That's just what we need."

Pastor Ethan, however had troubles of his own. It was eleven o'clock in the morning, and not even half a cup of coffee remained in the pot he and Kristy shared.

It wasn't as if he didn't know how to make coffee. He made it for himself every morning at home. But this wasn't home. This was the office, and for the past eight years, Kristy had kept the pot full.

He snatched up the glass carafe, stormed past her desk, and made his way to the small kitchen just off the narthex, where he splashed water all over his new Gap polo. He stomped back into the office, pitched out the old grounds, threw some new in without counting the scoops, poured in the water, and punched the switch. There! That ought to show her!

Unfortunately, she was too busy humming an old Whitney Houston tune and tapping away at her computer to notice. He couldn't decide which was worse: the coffee, that cheerful humming, or the fact that she was wearing her old clothes to work.

Her shapeless khaki dress was driving him even crazier than the empty coffee pot. He'd seen it dozens of times before. It was roomy, comfortable, and utterly devoid of style. Where were the clothes he objected to? Those tight white jeans, the skimpy breast-hugging tops, those silly gold sandals?

And if she'd decided to turn herself back into the old Kristy, why hadn't she gone all the way? Why hadn't she tamed that little feathery haircut of hers and left her red lipstick in the drawer at home, along with that killer perfume that made him think of black lace and body heat?

As her hands flew over the keyboard of her computer, the tiny gold and silver rings on her fingers flashed in the sunlight that streamed in from the window behind her, while those fake diamond studs glimmered in her ear-lobes. His gaze fell on the bodice of her ugly khaki dress. If only he didn't know what nestled beneath it.

Think of other things, dear, Marion Cunningham advised in her sweet, understanding voice. Concentrate on your sermon. I'm sure if you give it just a little more effort, it will be your best yet.

He flinched. Why did the great Mother have to show up just when he. was thinking about breasts?

The tapping stopped. Kristy rose from her desk, glanced over at him, and ducked out of the office to head for the rest room down the hall.

As soon as she got home, he knew she'd take off that ugly dress and slip into one of her new pairs of shorts and a top that showed off too much. And he wouldn't be there to see it because she'd made it more than clear that she didn't want him at her condo. No more home-cooked meals, no more dropping by to spill out his troubles about an unreasonable parishioner. Jeez, he missed her. He missed his friend.

He stared at her empty desk and thought about how she'd gone out to dinner with Mike Reedy again last night. That was twice now. On Saturday, Mike had taken her to a restaurant in Cashiers, and last night they'd eaten in the Mountaineer's dining room. Three people in the congregation had made sure he found out about it.

She wasn't back yet, and his skin grew clammy. He knew where she kept her purse. In the bottom left drawer, along with a small box of tissues and a first-aid kit. All his life, even during his wild days, he'd tried to behave honorably, and what he wanted to do wasn't honorable at all, but he couldn't seem to stop himself.

He shot across the office, jerked open the drawer, and pulled out her purse, the same little black number she'd taken to the Mountaineer last week when they'd had their disastrous conversation and she'd told him he wasn't her friend.

A real minister, someone who wasn't so flawed, someone with a true calling, would never do this. He flipped open the catch and looked inside. Wallet, comb, Tic Tacs, some makeup, car keys, a Daily Word devotional book. No condom.

He heard her footsteps, shoved the purse back in the drawer, and pulled out the first-aid kit.

"Is something wrong?"

A few minutes earlier, the expression of concern on her face would have lightened his mood, but not now. "Just a headache."

"Go sit down. I'll bring you some aspirin."

He handed her the first-aid kit and, for the first time all week, she started fussing over him, bringing him a glass of water, giving him the aspirin, asking if he'd gotten enough sleep last night. Unfortunately, her fussing didn't feel nearly as good as it should have because he couldn't remember a single time when she'd mentioned a headache and he'd brought her aspirin.

What had happened to that condom? Just the thought of her passing it over to Mike Reedy made him feel sick. Part of him knew he should be happy that she might have found someone, but not Mike Reedy, even though he'd always liked Mike and couldn't think of a single thing wrong with him, except that he shouldn't be making love with Kristy Brown.

After he'd swallowed the aspirin he didn't need, he gazed at her and wondered why it had taken him so long to notice how pretty she was. Not in a flashy way, even when she got dressed up, but in a quiet, sweet way.

"You know the drive-in's opening Friday night," he found himself saying.

"I just hope someone shows up. A lot of people in town are angry with Gabe for helping Rachel, and they're talking about a boycott." Kristy looked worried. "People can be so mean."

He spoke casually. "We both want to be at the drive-in on Friday night when it opens, so why don't I pick you up at eight?"

Kristy stared at him. "You want to go to the drive-in together?"

"Sure. How else are we going to show Gabe our support?"

The telephone rang on his desk. Kristy studied it for a moment before she finally picked it up. He soon realized she was talking to Patty Wells, the coordinator of the day-care center.

"Yes, Ethan's here. Of course. Send Edward right up, Patty."

She replaced the receiver and frowned. "He's been asking all morning to come talk to you. Patty tried to distract him, but he wouldn't give up. I hope nothing's wrong."

Both of them had been around Edward long enough to know that he never demanded anything, and they shared a wordless moment of concern.

Kristy returned to the outer office, and, a few minutes later, showed Edward in. She gave Ethan a worried look, one of a hundred they'd shared over the years when she'd ushered a troubled parishioner into his office. Then she retreated.

"You can shut the door if you want some privacy," Ethan said.

Edward hesitated and looked out at Kristy. Ethan knew how fond he was of her; and he was surprised when Edward pressed the door closed with both hands. Whatever was on his mind was obviously serious stuff.

Ethan had never liked the impersonality of talking across a desk, and he walked around to a small seating area near the window that held a couch and two comfortable chairs.

Edward climbed up onto the middle cushion of the couch and slid back into the seat, which made his legs stick out in front of him. He had a smear of red paint on the toe of one sneaker. Ethan had noticed how clean Rachel kept his worn clothes, which led him to believe the paint had come from that morning's art project.

Edward automatically reached out for something at his side, and, when he encountered only air, scratched his elbow. The stuffed rabbit, Ethan guessed.

"What's on your mind, Edward?"

"Gabe's a big liar. He says he's your brother."

Ethan began to correct him, but the deep unhappiness in the boy's expression made him hesitate. "Why do you think he's lying?"

"Because he's a butthead, and I hate him."

Ethan had been counseling troubled people for years, and he forced himself to detach so he could rephrase the boy's words. "Sounds like you don't like Gabe too much."

Edward shook his head vigorously. "My mommy shouldn't like him either."

Ditto to that, buddy. "I guess it upsets you that your mother likes him."

"I told her she can touch me instead, but she said she wants to touch a grown man, too."

I'll just bet she does. Especially a grown man with a hefty bank account and a casual attitude toward his money.

"I even said you'd let her touch you, Pastor Ethan, but she said you was my friend and Gabe was hers, and she said she wanted to kiss him and I had to stop hitting him."

Kissing him? Hitting him? It took a moment for Ethan to figure out which question to ask. "You were hitting Gabe?"

"I jumped on his back when he was kissing her, and I kept hitting him with Stellaluna till he let her go."

If he'd been hearing this story about anyone else, he would have been amused, but not about his brother. He knew he shouldn't ask, but he couldn't help it. "Where was Gabe when you jumped on his back?"

"Squishing my mommy."

"Squishing her?"

"You know. On top of her. Squishing her."

Damn.

Edward's brown eyes filled with tears. "He's a bad man, and I want you to make him go away, and I want you to let my mommy touch you instead."

Ethan pushed aside his own concerns and moved to the couch where he slipped his arm around the boy's shoulders. "It doesn't work that way with grown-ups," he said gently. "Your mom and Gabe are friends."

"He was squishing her!"

Ethan forced himself to speak evenly. "They're grownups, and that means they can squish each other if they want to. And Edward, that doesn't mean your mom doesn't love you just as much as always. You know that, don't you?"

The child thought it over. "I guess."

"You might not be getting along with Gabe right now, but he's really a good person."

"He's a butthead."

"He's had some bad things happen to him, and it makes him grouchy, but he's not bad."

"What bad things?"

Ethan hesitated, then decided the child should know the truth. "He had a wife and a little boy he loved very much. They died in an accident a while ago. He's still very sad about it."

Edward didn't say anything for a long time. Finally, he slid closer and let his head slump against Ethan's chest.

Ethan rubbed the boy's arm and thought about the mystery of God's ways. Here he was comforting the son of a man he'd despised and a woman he disliked, so why did he feel comforted himself?

"Gabe really is my brother," he said quietly. "I love him very much."

The child stiffened, but didn't draw away. "He's mean."

It was difficult for Ethan to fathom how his gentle brother could be unkind to this precious little boy. "I want you to think really hard. Isn't there anything nice Gabe has done for you?"

Edward began to shake his head, then stopped. "There's one thing."

"What's that?"

"He calls me Chip now."

Fifteen minutes later, Ethan was on the phone to Cal. Without breaking the confidentiality of his conversation with Edward, he let his oldest brother know they had big trouble on their hands.

"Giving out any free samples, bro?"

Rachel's head lifted as a deep male voice came from the doorway of the snack shop.

"Cal!" Gabe dropped the carton of buns he'd been carrying and shot out from behind the counter to greet the man who looked so very much like him. As the two slapped each other on the back, Rachel studied Cal Bonner and wonder what combination of genes had landed three lady-killers in the same family.

Unlike Ethan, Cal and Gabe's dark coloring and rough-hewed good looks clearly identified them as brothers. Gabe's hair was longer, his silvery-gray eyes lighter than Cal's, but both men were tall, lean, and muscular. Although she knew the ex-quarterback was the elder brother by almost two years, he looked younger. Maybe it was the general air of contentment he seemed to carry with him like an invisible football.

"You should have let me know you were coming," Gabe said.

"You didn't think I'd miss the grand opening tonight, did you?"

"It's just a drive-in, Cal."

His words stung. It wasn't just a drive-in to her. She wanted this old place to shine tonight.

All day, she'd been busy training Kayla, the young woman Gabe had hired to help out in the snack shop. She'd also been teaching Gabe the rudiments so he could help out during intermission. He caught on quickly, but she knew he was merely going through the motions. He should be healing animals, not serving up fast-food nachos.

"Want some coffee?" Gabe asked his brother. "Or ice cream. I'm getting to be a pro at making cones."

"No, thanks. Rosie started kicking up right after we left Asheville—she hates her car seat worse than poison—and I need to get back to the mausoleum to give Jane a hand."

Rachel didn't have to think hard to figure out what the mausoleum was.

Cal went on, his manner a shade too hearty. "I just stopped by to tell you Jane's decided to have a family brunch for you and Eth tomorrow around eleven to celebrate your new business. Think you can make it?"

"Sure."

"And Gabe, don't tell Jane I mentioned this, but if I were you, I'd eat something first. Knowing my wife, we'll probably be getting wheat-germ muffins and tofu casserole. You should see the garbage she feeds Rosie—no sugar, no preservatives, nothing worth eating. Last week Jane caught me shaking out a few of my Lucky Charms on Rosie's high-chair tray, and she about took my head right off."

Gabe smiled. "I stand warned."

"This place looks terrific." Cal eyed the snack shop as if it were a four-star restaurant. "You sure have done a lot with it."

Rachel could barely conceal her disgust. He was as bad as Ethan. She might love this drive-in, but it was clearly wrong for Gabe. Why couldn't one of his brothers look him in the face and ask him exactly what he thought he was doing with his life?

For the first time, Cal noticed her. His smile faded before it had fully formed, and, even though they'd never met, she knew he'd figured out who she was.

"Rachel, this is my brother Cal. Cal, Rachel Stone."

Cal gave her a brusque nod. "Miz Snopes."

She smiled pleasantly. "Nice to meet you, Hal."

"It's Cal."

"Ah." She continued to smile.

Cal's mouth tightened, and she regretted her flippancy. This was clearly a man who thrived on battle, and she had thrown down the gauntlet.

After the incident with Cal, what was left of the afternoon went steadily downhill. Kayla dropped a huge jar of salsa, splattering it everywhere, one of the men setting up the fireworks display cut his hand badly enough to need stitches, and Gabe withdrew into himself. Later, when Rachel ran into town to pick up Edward, an old Chevy Lumina shot out from a side street and nearly hit her. As she laid on her horn, she glimpsed the hostile face of Bobby Dennis behind the wheel. Once again, she wondered how she could have sparked so much animosity in someone so young.

That night, Edward ran in and out of the snack shop as cars began to trickle into the lot. "I get to stay up as late as I want. Right, Mommy?"

"As late as you want." She smiled as she poured kernels into the popcorn machine. The fireworks display didn't start until dark, and she doubted if he'd stay awake for much of the goofy Jim Carrey crowd-pleaser that was the first feature.

A couple with several young children came through the door, their first customers, and she concentrated on helping Kayla fill the order. Not long after, a rowdy trio of teenagers walked in. One of them was Bobby Dennis.

Rachel was waiting on an elderly man and his wife, so Kayla took care of them, but before they left, Rachel made a point of speaking. "I hope you enjoy the movies tonight."

He glared at her as if she'd cursed at him.

She shrugged. Whatever grudge this boy had against her, he wasn't going to give it up easily.

They did a steady stream of business, although not as much as she'd anticipated, and when the fireworks began, she glanced outside to see that the lot was barely half full. Since there wasn't much to do in Salvation on a Friday night, she knew a lot of people in town were making it clear that Gabe had to pay the consequences for hiring her.

Edward fell asleep not long after the Carrey movie began. His protest when she awakened him was unconvincing. As he leaned against her side while she helped him up the metal stairs, uneasiness over what she was doing to Gabe combined with worry about her own future. Dwayne's Bible hadn't revealed a single clue, and she was beginning to lose hope that it would. Maybe Gabe was right and the money had gone down in the plane with Dwayne.

She looked at her sleepy son. Gabe was making an effort to get along better with him. He'd taught Edward how to feed Tweety Bird without damaging the bird's soft beak and taken him on a walk in the woods near the cave where the bats lived, but Gabe's heart wasn't in it, and the atmosphere in the cottage grew more strained each day. She knew she had to do something soon.

Tom, the projectionist, smiled as she made her way through the projection room and tucked Edward into the sleeping bag she'd placed on the floor of Gabe's office. A boisterous man with a slew of grandchildren, he'd promised to let Rachel know if Edward woke up.

As she descended the stairs, she saw Gabe coming out of the snack shop. At the same time, a man she dimly recognized, although she couldn't immediately recall his identity, stepped from the shadows. "Doesn't look like you've got a full house tonight, Bonner."

Gabe shrugged. "Can't have a full house every night."

"Especially with the Widow Snopes working for you."

Gabe seemed to stiffen. "Why don't you mind your own business, Scudder?"

"Whatever you say." With a sneer, he walked away.

Russ Scudder. He'd lost a lot of hair since Rachel had last seen him and some weight, too. She remembered a more muscular man.

Gabe looked up as she came the rest of the way down the steps. "Russ used to work security at the Temple," she said.

"I know. I hired him to help out here, but I had to fire him after a couple of weeks. He wasn't reliable."

"He's right about what's happened. We should have had a bigger crowd. You're being punished because of me."

"It doesn't matter."

She knew it didn't, not to him, and that bothered her as much as the empty spaces. It should matter. "I wonder why he came tonight?"

"Probably needed a dark place to get drunk."

He moved off toward a car of noisy teenagers, and she returned to the snack shop to get ready for intermission. He reappeared to help out just as the first feature came to an end.

A line formed, but not a long enough one to give them trouble. Both of Gabe's brothers appeared to pick up food. Cal ordered two of everything, so she gathered that his wife was back in the car with their baby.

Ethan ordered double, too, but since Kayla was waiting on him, Rachel didn't notice. If she had, she might have been tempted to slip outside and see who he'd brought with him.