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This girl—barely more than a child, really—should be with her family, not wandering the streets. What kind of parents treated their child like this? Then she remembered her father was a convicted thief and her mother had abandoned her right after the trial, leaving Dinah to fend for herself. Her own parents were the kind.
    She and Hollyn were sisters under the skin.
    A single tear shimmered in Hollyn’s innocent blue eyes. “If I could find a place to stay. Just for a week or maybe less. I know I can find a job or something.”
    It seemed unlikely anyone in town would hire a girl about to give birth. But Dinah couldn’t leave her. She rose to her feet and held out her hand.
    “Come on, girl. You can stay with me until we figure out what to do with you.” Two mouths to feed. She’d have to come up with a legal, but free, way to advertise ASAP. But she’d manage. She always did.
    Hollyn scrambled to her feet and shoved her hands in her pockets. “Thank you, Miss Dinah. And don’t you worry, I’m used to working hard. I can cook and clean, do laundry, pull weeds, feed the chickens, you name it.”
    Dinah laughed. “That’s a lot for a girl who’s about to have a baby. When are you due?”
    “About a month, I think.”
    “Come on, then. Let’s get some lunch in you, honey lamb.” Dinah followed Hollyn along the narrow walkway. “There’s a free clinic in town—” She stopped as the street came into view. “What the hell?” Dinah’s quiet little neighborhood was quiet no more. She had visitors.
    The color drained from Hollyn’s face. “Looks like the police are at your house, Miss Dinah.”
    Not just the police. Rafe Morales was leaning against a police cruiser, arms crossed, gazing at her house as if she’d emerge if he stared hard enough. Parked in front of the cruiser was a familiar white pickup.
    “Are you in trouble, Miss Dinah?”
    “No.” But someone is about to be. “Come on.”
    Dinah stormed home. When Rafe saw her, he straightened up. His open expression faded into a frown as she closed in on him. But Rafe wasn’t Dinah’s target. It was the man unhitching the white pickup with Brenner Engineering & Construction emblazoned on the side.
    “Uh, Dinah. Wait—” Rafe tried to stop her as she blew past him.
    “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
    A head covered with brown curls lifted from a toolbox. Twinkling blues eyes behind gold-rimmed glasses smiled at her. Jamey Brenner. The only boy—no, the only kid—in El Royo who’d helped her that awful day. Hoots from her classmates had greeted her when she emerged from the quarry, her head clear, her pain temporarily in check. Hoots and Jamey Brenner holding a blanket up. He’d wrapped it around her and walked with her through the crowd to her car. He’d been kind—too kind—to the newest bad girl in town, and she hated that she’d needed him that day.
    “Hey, D-d-dinah. How ya’ll d-d-doin’?” He’d always stuttered when he was nervous. She could smell it on him now. She hated herself, but she didn’t want his charity. She was just fine on her own.
    “Why are you here, Jamey?” Against her will, Dinah’s voice softened.
    He nodded at the roof. “Had some extra t-time, and I heard that—”
    “I asked him to take a look at your roof.” Rafe’s voice was low and close. It held a cut-the-crap warning. “Seemed like there was more rain inside than outside last night.”
    She spun on him. Stress pulled at the corners of his eyes, and his tongue worried the inside of his cheek. Dark stubble covered his face.
    “I never said—”
    “I said. Unless you want me to call the village and have your house condemned.”
    “No!” It was the only thing of value she had in the world. If it was condemned, she’d be out on the streets stealing food with Hollyn.
    “In that case, kindly apologize to Jamey for your poor manners and allow him to get on with his work.”
    How was she going to pay for the patched roof? She