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blood roaring in her ears.
    “Who says they’re even mine,” he sneered, not noticing the frowns gathering on the faces of men sitting near him.
    “Three birth certificates and the state of Mississippi, that’s who!” Ellie retorted, shuddering with outrage.
    “Well, that boy Silas ain’t mine,” he defended himself. “I don’t owe him nothin’. Here, take this.” He slapped the dollar onto the counter before him, dug into his pocket, and produced a handful of change. “It’s all I got,” he insisted.
    With fingers that shook, Ellie snatched up the dollar as well as the change.
    “Best get yourself a job,” Carl added, before she could whirl away. “I sold that heap-o’-junk trailer you live in to Eddie Levi up the road. You got two weeks to move out of it.”
    “What?” She felt the blood drain from her face. “You can’t do that.”
    “’s been in my name all these years,” said Carl, sounding pleased with himself. “I can do as I damn well want.”
    Hearing his speech slur, she realized he was drunk. In her fury, Ellie snatched up his mug of beer and tossed it in his face. With a roar, he stood up, hands going for her neck.
    Men on either side leapt up to subdue him. Grinding her teeth to keep from shrieking, Ellie stalked away. Reasoning with Carl when he was drunk was a waste of time. He had to be taunting her, she reassured herself. He couldn’t have sold the trailer out from under them.
    Seeing the boys emerge from the restroom, their wide eyes fastened on the dancer as she shrugged her top off, Ellie hurried over to usher them out of the bar. “Let’s go,” she called.
    “How much did he give us?” Christopher wanted to know as they marched in a knot back to the car.
    “Just get in,” said Ellie, through her teeth. Her throat ached with the need to scream out her frustrations. Only, she wouldn’t. Not in front of the boys.
    She buckled in the baby, as Christopher, Caleb, and Silas wrestled over seat belts. Settling herself behind the wheel, Ellie counted the money still gripped in her hand. One dollar and seventy-six cents.
    Feeling her eyes sting, she blinked back her tears. She could buy a box of macaroni and cheese and feed them all tonight. But what about tomorrow? The boys would starve at this rate.
    You could call Social Services
, suggested a voice in her head.
    Never.
She’d experienced firsthand what Social Services in the state of Mississippi did to families. It broke them apart. Her boys belonged together. They belonged with
her
. She’d sell her hair first, take in extra children, do whatever it took to keep from asking for a handout and getting screwed in return.
    But if Carl had really sold the trailer, what then? They’d be living on the streets in two weeks. And in that case, she might not really have a choice.

Chapter Four
    Rafe Valentino reached for the ringing phone with relief. He couldn’t keep his thoughts on his work long enough to be productive. “Valentino,” he rasped, praying for a big distraction.
    “Hi, it’s Jillian.” Her voice was soft and subtle and, in some mysterious way, seemed to sink inside of him.
    “Well, hello.” His heartbeat quickened with pleasure he didn’t want to analyze. It was Jillian who was widowed, not married. He hadn’t gotten used to thinking of her that way.
    “I didn’t get a chance to thank you yesterday,” she admonished. “You disappeared right off the plane.”
    “I had an emergency at the office,” he prevaricated. “Besides, you were there to greet your sister, not me.”
    “True, but it would have been nice to thank you in person.”
    “No need,” he reassured her. “Your sister is remarkable. How’s she settling in?”
    “Oh, not too well. She looks and acts like a waif. She spends all of her time watching the news and nagging the adoption agency to see if Miguel’s dossier is back from the courts yet. I don’t suppose there’s anything the FBI can do to speed things up?”
    “That’s