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belly first. She took Elena’s hand, and mother and daughter walked side-by-side out of the room.
    Her mom looked down at her. “I’m glad Roxy has a big sister to look after her when I go to the hospital to have the baby.”
    “I’ll take good care of her, Mama. You can count on me.”
    “I know I can.” Her mom squeezed her shoulder. “I love you so much. You remember that always. Okay?”
    “I will.” She let go of her mother’s hand and slipped between the sheets on her bed. “I love you too.” Eyelids growing heavy, she rolled onto her side. “Night, Mama.”
    “Sweet dreams, Elena.” Her mom’s lips brushed her forehead. “Sweet dreams.”
    F ive

    The Greyhound made it out of Colorado and across Wyoming. Roxy awakened each time they stopped — Fort Collins, Laramie, Rawlins, Rock Springs, Evanston — and when the bus arrived at the terminal in Salt Lake City after 10:00 A . M ., she disembarked, unkempt, travel weary, and hungry.
    She washed the sleep from her eyes in the restroom sink. What makeup she applied before leaving Nashville was gone. Her curly hair was a hopeless mess. The only way to tame it was to twist it high and capture it with a large clip.
    What I wouldn’t give for a shower.
    Another nine hours or so, and she would be in Boise. Should she call her father from here, let him know she was coming?
    Her gut twisted at the thought.
    No, better wait. Better surprise him. Better show up on his doorstep unannounced. Maybe then he wouldn’t turn her away.
    There it was. Her true fear. That he wouldn’t want to see her. That her father, her last port in the storm, would reject her as every- one else had. That he would turn her out once he saw how low she’d sunk. And he would see that. He couldn’t help but see. It was written all over her face. He wouldn’t care that she’d failed to make it as a singer in Nashville. It was her lifestyle that would bring his disapproval. One look at her face and he’d know all the reckless, shameful things she’d done.
    He’d see all of her sins.
    Sin. How she detested that word. Long before this she’d rejected the concept of sin. Sin was a word her father — and all religious people — liked to use to spoil life for those who wanted to
    enjoy it. Why was it, she’d insisted, that everything fun, everything that brought a girl pleasure, was called sin?
    Fun? Pleasure?
    Was that what she’d had for the past few years? She’d frittered away the money from her grandmother, spending like there was no tomorrow. She’d attached herself to people who cared little for anyone but themselves. She’d mistaken sex for love too many times, until neither sex nor love meant much to her.
    Roxy pressed the heels of her hands against her temples and squeezed. She wanted to stop the doubts. To silence the negative thoughts, the fears, the regrets.
    I want to get it over with.
    She turned from the mirror and left the restroom.
    =

    Elena made her way through the lunchtime crush toward the table where Wyatt awaited her.
    “Sorry I’m late.” She kissed his cheek, then sank onto the chair to his left. “I received a phone call as I was leaving the office. There’s another problem at the San Diego store. I’ve got to fly down there later this afternoon. I’ll have to eat quick. I need to pack.”
    “You look tense. Is it serious?”
    “It won’t be.” She drew a deep breath and let it out on a sigh. “Not once I fire the store manager.” That was one part of her job she could do without. She didn’t mind being tough and strong- willed when circumstances required it, but firing a man was some- thing else again. Necessary but unpleasant.
    Wyatt released a soft whistle, the sound saying he understood — and that comforted her.
    “I guess we’d better order since you’re in a hurry.” He glanced over his shoulder and motioned to the waiter. “Do you know what you want?”
    Elena didn’t need to look at the menu. She loved this restau- rant’s