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here… Look, Buck, you really don’t have to do this…”
    “It certainly would be a pity if your sister had to lift a finger herself around here,” Buck said idly. “She gets off school at noon every day, you said?”
    She flashed him a warning glance as she burrowed in the overcrowded closet for Angela’s broken hairdryer. “She’s had it rough, losing both our parents.”
    “You didn’t lose the same two parents? She’s spoiled,” he said flatly.
    “Fine,” Loren snapped. “Handle her then, Buck—you certainly did a good job yesterday. Take over the whole damn house if you want, but I have to go out and get the groceries for the week. I’ll say my goodbyes now.”
    “Oh, I don’t know. I’m getting a hell of a list from your two relatives. I may still be here when you get back.”
    She shoved the bulky hairdryer at him with a silver-eyed stare. “If you want to waste your Saturday, that’s up to you. But don’t count on conversation from me unless it’s over the roar of a vacuum. I don’t have time to play.”

Chapter Four
    Buck emerged from the house just as Loren was coming up the driveway. She’d barely shut off the engine before he had the side doors of the van open. He managed three grocery bags to her one, toting them ahead of her wordlessly, and Loren found herself shaking her head. Dammit, what was she going to do about him? Why on earth was he doing all this?
    The kitchen table was strewn with a pile of clean clothes, half folded. She set down the grocery bag and her purse, taking off her coat even as she was starting to unpack the canned goods. A cup of coffee was whisked in front of her; she ignored it, working silently as Buck sat down at the table.
    “You’ll have hot water within the hour. The faucets upstairs and down are no longer dripping, and the burner on the stove’s fixed. But the hairdryer is beyond repair, and your washing machine is going, Loren. There’s a leak in the attic that could at least be token-patched from the inside, and the lamp in your sister’s room has a worn out electrical cord. Very mechanical, your family. I made out a list once I started the wash. It came to two pages. Actually, very few of these things are expensive if you don’t have to pay a repair man for his time. And in the meantime,” Buck continued mildly, “I threw out the slip with the hole in it. I knew damn well it was yours—your sister’s things have ‘brand-new’ all but written on them. The bras were easy to divide, but the panties I gave up on. They all stretch. You and your sister will have to sort out the rainbow. Perhaps Angela might even be able to rouse herself off that sweet little ass of hers…”
    Loren smash-shut the vegetable bin, smash-shut the refrigerator and turned to his expectant green eyes with her hands on her hips. “You are driving me nuts.”
    Buck nodded mildly, as if the subject were of little interest to him. “I can’t find your pajamas,” he complained.
    “I don’t wear any.”
    “Cheaper that way?”
    She drew in her breath, trying to contain the laughter that was bubbling up inside her. He had set up such a darned good show to prove his unusual (for a man) domestic skills—taking on her wash, indeed! Yet she couldn’t laugh. Her pride was smarting from his help, she was no one’s charity case and she didn’t like anyone running interference for her. But…he had put in a three-day work week in a few hours, and professional help would have cost her a bundle she didn’t have; she even felt a grudging respect for this man who pitched in with an energy and determination that matched her own, obstacles or no. She just couldn’t seem to pigeonhole him—he seemed neither a nomadic Jack-of-all-trades nor the goodwill neighborly type.
    “Who are you, Buck? What are you doing here?” she asked finally.
    “Sit down and I’ll tell you, after you answer the question about the pajamas.”
    “Pajamas? Oh…” She brought the coffee cup with