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he had a fifteen- year-old son, he’d felt like Methuselah. “All right, we’ll just let her think that. You’re my brother, Jackie Smith. A hick sheriff doesn’t need to know more.”
    Jackie nodded uncertainly. “I guess. She’s kind of nice. She teaches at the high school here and knows all about Monster House.”
    And probably disapproved of the video game thoroughly, but JD didn’t add that. “Well, we wouldn’t want her mixed up in all this then. We’ll talk to the sheriff in the morning and be on our way. She won’t ever know.”
    The boy squirmed uncomfortably. “I don’t know about that. The engine died before the truck got hit. The whole thing’s in pretty bad shape now. And the doctor said you should stay off that foot. That’s your gas-pedal foot. I don’t see how we can go anywhere.”
    â€œWhat about the Harley?” JD demanded.
    â€œWhat about the computers?” Jackie asked.
    Stalemate. They couldn’t haul computers on a Harley. He couldn’t hold the blamed bike up with one foot either. Not for long, anyway. “All right. Send Miss Toon back in here. I’ll see what we can do.”
    He was too tired to think. If it hadn’t been for Uncle Harry and Nancy, he could just catch a ride to the nearest dealership and buy a new truck. But he couldn’t let either of those two connivers know where he and Jackie were yet. Maybe this impulsive jaunt across middle America hadn’t been such an intelligent idea, but it was all he’d thought of when the walls started crumbling around him. It was what he’d always done when things turned bad, and he could trust only himself. In his eagerness to escape, he’d promised Jackie the ocean, but maybe the kid would settle for those lakes. Maybe.
    The pixie drifted in again. Jackie had turned a light on, and this time JD could see trim, suntanned legs running up into hideous wide-legged denim shorts that carried up past her hips into a bib over her breasts. If she had breasts, that is. A man couldn’t tell beneath all those denim pockets. Bib overalls, for crying out loud. He really had landed in the outback of nowhere.
    But then JD’s gaze reached her face, and he figured the blow to his head had smacked him into another dimension. Wide green eyes filled the area above sharp, high cheekbones. If it weren’t for the pouty pink lips, he’d vote her as best model for one of those velvet paintings of wide-eyed waifs. Of course, those paintings didn’t have spiky white-blond hair. Tinkerbelle did. And she was a schoolteacher? They didn’t make schoolteachers like that when he was kid, or he’d have gone to school a little more often.
    â€œIf you’re tired, I thought Jackie might help you into Aunt Hattie’s room. It’s on this floor, so you won’t have to climb stairs.”
    She spoke with such soft diffidence that he scarcely heard her. How could a schoolteacher keep a roomful of teenagers in order when she talked like that? JD ran his fingers through his hair and winced as they came in contact with his throbbing head. A bed sounded incredibly good right about now.
    â€œI don’t mean to impose,” he answered stiffly. “I don’t want to put your aunt out of her bed.” Miss Toon might look like an alien, but he felt like one. He’d never lived in the country, never had an aunt of any sort, had never relied on the kindness of strangers. He’d been insane to cross the country in that old pickup, but he hadn’t wanted Harry and Nancy tracing airplane tickets. Damn. He still couldn’t believe Harry.
    The pouty lips smiled shyly. “I don’t think she’d mind. She’s over in Hopkinsville.”
    JD didn’t know where or what Hopkinsville was and didn’t bother asking. “If you’re sure she won’t mind,” he agreed wearily.
    â€œI’m sure she