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mother back on the ground, Buck threw an arm around her and they started up the walk together. By then, Lupe had already mounted the steps and stood waiting by the front door.
    B.J. hung back, pondering the whole Buck-has-a-mother thing—until he sent her a glance over his shoulder. “B.J. You coming?” She shook herself and followed them to the front door.
    Inside, the foyer boasted a pressed-tin ceiling and classic beadboard paneling painted a nice, fresh-looking white. Cheerful rag rugs covered the scuffed hardwood floors. The drawing room off the entrance contained lots of chintz and plaid furniture, an excess of fat pillows and mismatched antiques.
    The effect was far from luxurious. Still, B.J. found it kind of comforting. Homey and welcoming. Already the sun had fallen behind the mountains, leaving it kind of gray outside and dim within, but Chastity had turned the lamps on and a cheery fire burned in the stone fireplace.
    Buck made the introductions.
    â€œB.J. How nice to finally meet you,” Chastity said, leaving B.J. to wonder just how much Buck’s mother knew about their disaster of a love affair six years before.
    â€œUh. Great to meet you, too.” She forced a friendly smile. “We should bring in our things….”
    So they all headed back outside again. B.J. and Chastity each grabbed a couple of suitcases andtrudged back to the house, leaving Buck and Lupe behind to sort out the rest.
    â€œThis way…” Chastity led B.J. upstairs to her room, which contained a queen-sized bed, nightstand and dresser and had enough room for a small sitting area. A tall armoire hid the TV. Not far from the head of the bed, French doors led out to a balcony and a gorgeous view: the rushing river behind the house and the evergreen-clad mountains rising skyward to the west.
    B.J.—work, as always, foremost in her mind—cast a doubtful glance at the spindly-legged desk in the corner. “Internet access?” she asked hopefully. She didn’t see anything resembling a data port. Maybe wireless?
    â€œNot in the room,” Chastity confessed. “But if you want to use my computer, you’re welcome to. I have the Internet. Don’t do much with it, I admit. I don’t have time to sit around and wait for those pages to come on the screen. Takes forever and a day—I’m a busy woman, you know.” She added the last briskly, with pride.
    B.J. got the picture. Not pretty. “You mean you have…dial-up?” She tried not to shudder. Chastity looked at her vacantly. B.J. tried again. “You dial in to hook up?”
    â€œYes, I think that’s it.”
    So much for zipping off her long, helpful e-mails to Giles. She’d call him. Later.
    An ugly thought occurred to her. “What about cell phones? Do they work around here?”
    â€œNow and then.” The twin lines between Chastity’s brows—lines that cried out for a little Botox—deepened even further. “Well, the truth is, not that often. The canyon walls block the signals.” Shegestured toward the window and the rim of tree-covered mountains across the river. “People around here who just have to have cell phones take them up there. Reception’s pretty good once you get out of the canyon.”
    B.J. considered the concept: climb a mountain, make a call. “You know what? Maybe not.”
    Chastity shrugged. “But we do have regular phones.” She pointed at the land line on the dinky desk. It was big and bone-colored, an early push-button model. “They work just fine.”
    â€œI’m sure I’ll manage.”
    â€œCome on, then. I’ll show you your bathroom.”
    The bath was down the hall. But at least it was all hers—Chastity told her so. B.J. reminded herself to be grateful for small favors. It had a sink, a toilet and a claw-footed tub with a tall, added-on shower head and a flowered curtain that could be drawn all