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glanced over. “Sleepy little afterthought, isn’t it.”
    She nodded. But it was perfect. No one would expect to find her in a little place like Juniper Falls. She could just disappear. When they reached the ranch, she went up to her room, tucked her legs beneath her, and sat on the bed. She’d landed. And now her life was her own. She breathed deeply.
    â€”——
    After a short nap and several glasses of water, Noelle’s head had stopped aching. But she was hungry. She checked the schedule on the door and thankfully started down for dinner. A thin, stoop-shouldered man was already seated at the table; the professor, no doubt. She noted his Roman patrician nose and deep-set umber eyes beneath graying brows. His short-cropped beard had a dark brown V between two gray patches on his chin. She wondered if it was cleft underneath.
    Rick spoke from behind her. “Noelle, this is Professor Jenkins, here for a couple of weeks on sabbatical. Professor, Noelle St. Claire.”
    â€œI’m pleased to meet you, Professor.”
    He nodded formally with a smile. “Likewise, Ms. St. Claire.”
    Rick took the chair at the head of the long pine table, and Noelle sat on his left across from the professor. Two middle-aged men and a slightly older woman were introduced, and Noelle guessed them the Pathfinders Morgan had mentioned. The family from Michigan must be using their own kitchen, and, as Morgan had suggested, the honey-moon couple did not join them.
    Morgan followed Marta in from the kitchen as she carried the first steaming platter to the table. “You can’t say that, Marta. I dated a girlso nice her worst nightmare was not getting to heaven. No joke. She dreamed she was in line behind Mother Teresa, and St. Peter told the bent old woman, ‘You could have done more.’ She dragged me through more good deeds—”
    â€œThere’s nothing wrong with wanting to better the world.” Marta turned back for the kitchen.
    â€œDon’t I know. Just gotta have fun doing it.” Morgan took his place and winked at Noelle.
    It could have been a family argument, a naughty nephew and a favorite aunt. She wondered if Marta was related, but the physical characteristics were too disparate. Though, to be sure, Rick and Morgan were different enough. Marta laid out the meal: pork chops, potatoes, buttered peas, and rolls still steaming—exactly the kind of fare Noelle had expected there. Marta’s swift, concise motions were like the darting of a ground squirrel, but at last she stopped and stood at the foot of the table.
    Noelle laid her napkin in her lap and reached for the rolls, then stopped, fingers extended, as Rick bowed his head and said, “ ‘I will extol the Lord with all my heart in the council of the upright and in the assembly.’ ”
    She stared. She couldn’t help it. Never would she have taken him for a praying man, though now the cross over the mantel made sense.
    â€œFor this food we are deeply grateful. Bless it for our use in your service, O Lord. Amen.”
    Amen s surrounded her. Catching Morgan’s amusement, she dropped her gaze. She hadn’t meant to be so transparent, especially with Morgan more attentive than she wanted.
    The professor turned to her. “Visiting from New York?”
    She looked at him in surprise and with more than a little concern. “How did you . . .”
    â€œI detect an accent.”
    â€œMy tutor would be disappointed to hear that.” Noelle sliced open the steaming potato, noticing the glance Rick and Morgan shared. She shouldn’t have said that either. She wasn’t used to guile.
    â€œI’m a bit of a linguist, you see—a trained ear.” The professor leaned forward. “While you lack the obvious accent, your diction does betray you. Long Island?”
    She gave him a slight smile, but her heart thumped. Since she’dgiven her name, it would