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no harm in giving him a bare-bones outline of the rest of it. After all, she had done nothing to be ashamed of, whether Marsden—and the voters of Mississippi—chose to believe it or not. What she wouldn’t say was how persistently Lewis had pursued her from the start. The truth—that Lewis had asked her out repeatedly, from the time she had joined his staff as a nineteen-year-old part-timer to the moment she had finally said yes —did not reflect well on her husband. Loyalty dictated that she keep that part to herself. “When I graduated, he offered me a full-time job as a legislative aide. He and Eleanor were separated by that time, although they kept it quiet for fear it would hurt his chances for reelection. After a while Lewis and I started dating. Eleanor was already involved with someone else. That’s the way it was all during Lewis’s last campaign, although Lewis and Eleanor appeared together in public when they had to. After the election was over, Eleanor got a quickie divorce, and Lewis and I got married. He thought that would give voters six whole years until the next election to get used to me. Only it’s been three years already, and they don’t seem to like me any better now than they ever did. What happened today is a prime example.”
    “That sure wasn’t any valentine, I agree.” Quinlan slanted a glance at her. “You have any plans to have a baby with the Senator?”
    “What?” Shock brought Ronnie upright in her seat.She could not believe he had asked her something so personal.
    “A baby’d warm the voters up to you, you know. Everybody loves a new mom and her sweet little baby. If you’re planning on having kids anyway, it’s something to think about doing before the next election. Three more years gives you plenty of time.”
    “If and when I decide to have a baby, it certainly won’t be to help win an election!”
    “Just a thought,” he murmured, unapologetic. His glance at her contained a hint of speculation. Ronnie wondered just exactly how much he really knew about Lewis. If he’d been Marsden’s college roommate, presumably quite a bit. But maybe not. Not many people knew the private Lewis. She wasn’t even sure if Marsden did.
    “Just how close are you and Marsden?” Ronnie asked suspiciously.
    “Friends once, more what I’d term acquaintances now. Don’t worry, I won’t be giving him weekly updates on you and your doings. I work for you, not him.” Quinlan smiled at her as he spoke.
    “Just so we have that straight.”
    He slowed at a stop sign, then turned left on a blacktop road that was even narrower than the one they’d left behind. On this one, two cars could pass each other if they both hugged the gravel shoulder, but it would be a tight fit. Sagging wire fences stretching between weathered fence posts bordered the road on both sides. In field after field small herds of black-and-white cows grazed in patches of shade provided by the occasional tree. A quartet of pigs lolled in a muddy stream, only the tops of their heads visible above thebrown water. A pair of plump white geese pecked at something in the scrub grass beside the road. A farmer in a straw hat and denim overalls waved from his tractor. Quinlan honked, and waved back.
    “Do you know him?” Quinlan in his elegant suit seemed to have’ no connection to the hardworking farmer.
    “I know everyone around here. My family has lived in these parts for generations. Ah, here we are.”
    He slowed, turning in at a gravel driveway. Ronnie got just a glimpse of a battered metal mailbox on a weathered post before they passed it. Ahead of them was a two-story farmhouse, white clapboard, with narrow windows and a gray-painted porch and shutters, homely rather than grand, and obviously old. A big oak spread its branches over the scraggly front lawn, while a grove of silver maples sheltered a second entrance and a picnic table to the side. A sagging barn, bigger than the house and in dire need of paint,