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gap-toothed grin was all Rebecca needed to see at the end of the day to revive her flagging spirits. Forgetting Jace Cooper, she dropped down to the sidewalk on her knees and held her arms out. Immediately they were filled with wriggling boy.
    “Guess what what?” she asked, giggling as she hugged and was hugged in return.
    “Peter Cleary brought a dead rat to school, and Jessica Jorgenson threw up at lunch.”
    Rebecca made a face and tousled the boy’s dark hair. “Sounds as though you had quite a day.”
    “Uh-huh,” he said, rocking back on the heels of his miniature high-top sneakers. He propped one hand on his hip and shoved the other into the deep pocket of his favorite camouflage pants. “Mrs. Petrie let us have extra time at recess, and I got a star on my spelling paper.”
    “That’s super!” she said, giving him an extra hug. “I’m so proud of you! How did the arithmetic go today?” she asked carefully, knowing Justin was less than enthusiastic about first-grade math.
    He made a face and glanced over her shoulder, his blue eyes widening as his gaze landed on Jace. Addition and subtraction were instantly forgotten. In an exaggerated stage whisper he said, “Who’s that man by our car?”
    Speech evaded Rebecca as she suddenly remembered Jace’s presence. The joy she’d felt at seeing Justin suddenly jelled into a knot of tension in the middle of her chest.
    Justin turned a very adult look of reprimand on her. “Don’t ever give rides to strangers, Mom.”
    “Ah—um—Mr. Cooper isn’t a stranger, honey.” She pushed herself to a standing position and reluctantly led Justin by the hand to make what was bound to be an awkward introduction. Stopping a few feet from the car she said, “Mr. Cooper is an old—” The word “friend” stuck in her throat. Friends didn’t simply abandon friends the way Jace had. “—person.”
    Justin tipped his head in speculation as he looked up at Jace. “You’re not
so
old,” he said candidly. “Grandpa’s old. You’re just kind of old—like Mom.”
    “Thanks,” Rebecca said sardonically.
    “Thanks,” Jace mumbled, still dumbfounded by this living proof that Becca was a mom. He held his hand out. “Jace Cooper.”
    Pleased at being treated like an adult, Justin grinned and accepted the offer. “I’m Justin. I’m six.”
    The boy had Rebecca’s black hair and rectangular face. His grin was filled with mischief. A smattering of rusty freckles dotted his cheeks and impudent button nose. And his eyes were a deep, bottomless blue.
    Rebecca could practically hear the wheels turning in Jace’s brain. It didn’t take a mind reader to know he was making comparisons and doing some basic math. His still-startled gaze darted from Justin to her.
    “Justin,” she said, drawing her son back and steering him toward the house, “will you please go tell Grandpa I’ll be a little late for supper? I have to drive Mr. Cooper around the block to Mrs. Marquardt’s house.”
    “Can I come along?” Justin asked automatically. He was always ready for an adventure.
    “No, sweetheart. Go on now. I’ll be back in a little while.” Her gaze lingered on him as he scampered up the steps and dashed into the house, yelling at the top of his lungs.
    “Becca?” Jace questioned.
    Emotions warred inside her. Without turning around, she could picture Jace’s expression. He didn’t have to say anything more than her name for her to know the question that was burning inside him, between them.
    “Rebecca?”
    Wearing her pride like a cloak, she turned and looked him square in the eye. “He’s not your son.”

                  3                  
    “What do you mean, it’s none of my business?” Jace asked indignantly.
    “The statement is generally considered self-explanatory.” Rebecca kept her eyes focused forward. She turned at the corner and gunned the engine more than was necessary for the Honda to negotiate the