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the last few days.”
    Cara nodded. “We kept your lunch warming in the oven. Won’t take anything to add a bit more for the extra mouths. How old’s the baby?”
    Loomis shrugged. “I don’t know. Lucky—the mama—is the healthiest of the lot, but that ain’t saying much. The babe can’t be more than a couple of pounds. Either it’s newborn, or it’s starving as bad as they are.”
    Tsking under her breath, Cara bustled into the kitchen, grabbing her apron from a hook. “Heather, I’ll need your help in here.”
    “Can we go see the baby?”
    Loomis looked down at Delia, and smiled. She caressed curly blond hair, and cupped her cheek. “I think that would be a fine idea.” Taking each girl by the hand, she said, “Come on, Terry, let’s meet your new brother.”
    ***
     
    Gwen couldn’t believe how sore the ride from town had made her thighs. She’d ridden ponies once in a while as a child, mostly at camp, but had no idea it would make her so stiff. How could she hurt so much when the horse did all the work?
    Her conversation with Loomis irritated her. At first Gwen thought the woman was a hater with all that talk about Lucky being stupid for balling. That would be the shits if Gwen had hooked up with a bitch that thought they were dweebs or something. Loomis’s comment about taking them in because of her responsibility to Lindsay Crossing hadn’t raised Gwen’s opinion. Had she made a mistake by not sticking it out in town with the mayor?
    Gwen reviewed the meeting in the church and the group dynamics all over again while she, Lucky and Kevin waited at the picnic table. Sure, Walker was the big man in town, but his little speech about adopting the Gatos had been met with a lot of resistance. Gwen had no doubt that a vote before Loomis spoke up would have had very different results. Instead of sitting under a shade tree waiting to meet her future roommates, she’d be walking to her death at Weasel’s side on the other end of town. No. When the Loomises had entered the church, all the townies had shut up without being told, giving her their attention even though the mayor ran the show. When Loomis spoke in favor of Walker’s proposal, the majority had caved and agreed without argument. The power was here, resting in the heart of that opinionated asshole.
    In the past Gwen had been down for whatever with other girls. Weasel never minded if she had a female cut buddy. He got jealous when she showed interest in other boys, something she only did to make him crazy. Given a choice, Gwen preferred feminine companionship to masculine any day, but what she wanted and what she could get were two different things. Not many girls held power unless it was because of whom they bedded. Gwen had had no choice but to let Weasel chop on her to get what she wanted; she’d seen what happened to girls who teased too much. She wanted no part of that for herself. Life had been good while she banged Weasel. It had been the right choice at the time.
    Marissa Loomis was a dime piece. Her brother, Rick, was cute, but Loomis was the better looking of the two. It wouldn’t put Gwen out to warm Loomis’s bed. But out here in the sticks did they even go there? Loomis’s admonition about her language harkened back to memories of Gwen’s ’rents. They’d been pretty controlling before the sickness got them. What would they have said about her banging girls instead of boys? Were Loomis and her crew of the same mind? Then there was the whole possibility of Loomis not liking girls that way. Gwen sighed, glumly staring at the cabin. What the hell was she going to do if that were the case? This was her last stop. Hooking back up with Weasel was out of the question. He was low man on the totem pole now. It would take years for him to be a force to be reckoned with here.
    The cabin door opened, and she watched Loomis come outside with three little girls, holding two by the hand. One had curly blond hair, obviously not a close