AVAILABLE FILE FORMATS: HTML for the standard computer, Rocket reader for the Rocket eBook reader device, MS Reader for the PC and Pocket PC, FUB for eBookMan, Mobipocket for Palm Pilot, Pocket PC, and eBookMan, and KML for hiebook

Prologue, Chapter One, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

TAMPA--Two million dollars was awarded to the victim of a hit-and-run accident that left an elderly couple dead and their daughter severely injured eighteen months ago.

The lawyer for Marta Lundstrum, her half-brother Carl Lundstrum of New York, reported Miss Lundstrum's medical bills had already consumed a good portion of the settlement.

Miss Lundstrum, a participant in many local distance races prior to her injury, is now in a group home, where she is making steady improvement through extensive therapy.

Burke Hildebrand opened the door of the motel room, switched on the light and threw his battered briefcase onto the bed. As he pocketed his room key, he retraced his steps to the balcony which ran the length of the upper level of the motel.

Taking a deep breath, he picked up the well-scuffed canvas bag which had accompanied him from the States to Australia and back again. He was used to traveling light.

Returning to the room, he closed the door behind him and dumped the bag on the bed. With a sigh, he began to remove the chambray shirt he'd been wearing for the last twenty hours. It had dust from three airports blasted into its fibers.

He flexed his shoulders, then swung his arms in wide circles until he felt certain muscles relax.

Burke tried to ignore the institutionally bland furniture and neutral color scheme by looking out the window at the night.

Something was bothering him, and it wasn't the breeze blowing in off Tampa Bay or the traffic on the highway a few hundred yards away. It was the feeling that once again he was dislocated from anyone or anything familiar.

A new project, a new town, but the same old Burke Hildebrand, and the same old loneliness.

He turned back to the situation at hand. It took almost no time to unpack. As usual, he opened a drawer of the bureau and dropped everything in. Later he'd send out his laundry, hang his good trousers in the closet after they'd been pressed, and sort out his socks.

He wasn't generally very neat at this stage of a project. When he was not working sixteen hours a day, he would try to become more civilized. Then he would shave regularly, maybe even eat where there were cloths on the tables. Not now. He was too busy.

He pulled a crumpled envelope from the side pocket of his canvas bag and once again took the contents from it. The airline ticket should go into a file in the briefcase which was labeled Expenses . The letter from Joe Parmeter, however, was full of instructions. Call Suncoast Answering Service for your messages, one of them read.

Burke stretched out on the bed, leaving his heavy brogans extended over the side so they wouldn't soil the flowered bedspread. Leaning his broad shoulders against the headboard, he swung the phone onto his rippled ribcage and punched out the numbers.

"Good evening, Suncoast Answering Service," a bright feminine voice responded. "How may I help you?"

"Uh!" Burke grunted in surprised response to something in the voice that reached out and clutched at his soul. It was the first time that day he'd heard anyone who didn't sound like a programmed machine.

"This is Burke Hildebrand of Parmeter Engineering Industries, checking on my messages."

"Mr. Hildebrand! Thank you for choosing Suncoast Answering Service." She greeted him as though she was expecting his call and it had made her night. He knew, logically, she was obviously searching for his messages.

"Well, I didn't do the choosing," Burke set her straight reluctantly. "I guess Joe Parmeter arranged for your services when he was in Tampa setting up this project."

"Oh, I see." Her alto voice was sweet and warm. "I didn't meet Mr. Parmeter when he was here. Welcome to Tampa. I hope we live up to his expectations. I have a message for you from Mr. Parmeter. He says he won't be able to get to town until later in the week and for you to proceed without him. I guess that's not too complicated."

She paused, as though waiting for him to finish writing something done.

"Generally, Mr. Hildebrand, I'll warn you if you need pencil and paper when I see what the messages are," she went on. "In addition to taking messages, we have a number of services we can perform for you. We can relay messages to your callers or page you at your work site."

"I'll remember that," Burke promised, wanting to keep her on the phone longer. "Ah, do you have a name, miss? I--I have a hard time just talking to voices. I like to attach a name to a voice."

"Marti," she told him, a slight giggle in her voice. "With an i."

"Well, Marti-with-an-i , it's been a long day for me. I started out in Melbourne this morning--the one in Australia, not the one in Florida. I have monumental jet-lag and I'll sleep better knowing someone will take my messages."

"Will do," Marti promised with a little laugh. "By the way, would you like a wake-up call?"

"Could you?" Burke asked, knowing his travel alarm had given up some months ago and he hadn't replaced it.

"Sure. What time?"

"I think I'll sleep in. Six would be fine."

She giggled. "That's sleeping in? You're down for six, sir. Good night."

He hung up the phone and put it back on the nightstand. He'd hate to have a job that kept him up all night. Maybe he could get used to it, though. But the idea of staying up all night on top of the fatigue he already felt just made him more tired.

A shower would definitely help.

It was strange how the voice of a real person at the other end of the telephone made a difference in his outlook. Someone who responded to your supposed cleverness at this time of night took the edge off the sterility of the motel room. A little of the loneliness evaporated from of the night.

Bemused by the lingering warmth of Burke Hildebrand's voice, Marti moved the microphone of her headset away from her mouth. She needed to see the images on the computer screen in front of her.

Katherine Nelson, director of the group home, stood behind her, waiting for her to finish giving Mr. Hildebrand his message. Now she moved closer to look over Marti's shoulder.

Katherine sighed. "We have that many people on our waiting list? And only one resident who is ready to move out?"

"I'd be glad to move out," Marti suggested, looking up at the woman who had become like a mother to her in the past year.

"You're the one person I want to have stay," Katherine assured her softly, afraid she would be overheard.

But they were alone in the neatly efficient office where the Suncoast Answering Service operated. Elsewhere in the rambling building were a dormitory, classrooms and workrooms for the twenty residents who were given jobs and shelter in the institution.

The other nineteen residents were permanently impaired and would probably always need assistance, but Marti constantly improved her ability to live independently. Once her physical problems had begun to improve, she'd put her

business skills to work in the office, much to Katherine's delight.

Marti had gone from wheelchair to crutches, and more recently to a cane. She spent the nighttime hours answering the phone and do bookkeeping and filing.

Katherine relied on Marti to instruct a class of residents in training to take over simple office work. There were also times when Marti was pressed into duty for informal counseling when Katherine was occupied elsewhere.

But it had become increasingly clear Marti needed the facilities of the group home less than the people whose names scrolled up on the screen.

Katherine sighed and pointed to a name. "Let me see the display on this one, please..."

Marti tapped a few keys and the list was replaced by the information on a single applicant. She turned to observed the pensive expression on Katherine's face.

"Hmm! All right." Katherine patted Marti's shoulder and started back to her own office. "Print that whole record out for me when you have a chance. Thanks, Marti. Have a nice night. There's not much work for you to do tonight, just the usual. I'll be in my room if you need me."

Marti straightened her shoulders, one of the exercises she did frequently to avoid

becoming stiff. She didn't particularly like working all night, but she was one of the few residents who could tolerate the isolation and quiet.

She liked the necessity of burning lights all night to chase away the darkness. If she slept in the mornings, when it was light outside, she could see everything around her if she woke up. It wasn't as embarrassing as admitting that she had to sleep with the lights on.

A blinker on the switchboard lit up and Marti pressed the button to answer it, lowering her microphone into position.

"Suncoast Answering Service. How may I help you?"

"Good evening, Marti," Dr. Elizabeth McAffee said, fatigue in her voice.

"Dr. McAffee, good evening," she answered, searching the file where messages for each client were kept separately. "Ah, nothing tonight. It's been pretty quiet."

"Maybe I'll get a good night's sleep for a change, then," Dr. Liz laughed. "How are you doing, honey?"

"I'm doing really well," Marti told her, relaxing a little, although she watched the switchboard to see if there was another call coming in.

"I saw you in a mall a few weeks ago walking with your crutches," she told her. "You were really moving along well."

Marti laughed. "I was helping one of the girls find a new jacket. Anyway, I'm using a cane around the building here. I just use the crutches when I have to go outside."

"Really? I'm proud of you. You'll be out on your own soon, then."

"Well, maybe." A tinge of doubt crept into Marti's voice. No matter how bravely she spoke of leaving to Katherine, she had some qualms.

"Have a good night, Marti. Bye-bye," Dr. Liz said, as though they were long-term friends, rather than doctor and patient, and business acquaintances.

When Marti had broken the connection, she did a few more exercises. Feeling more comfortable, she scooted around the room on her swivel chair, returning files to their places in cabinets.

It was time to start looking for a job outside the sheltered workshop, and an apartment of her own. Or with someone who understood her needs. After the ordeal of the last two years, this was an even more frightening challenge.

She did some bookkeeping, a few exercises, a bit of reading, all interrupted now and again by the telephone.

The clients of Suncoast Answering Service were professionals who kept irregular hours and to whom emergencies and crises were commonplace. Few knew her as more than a voice who gave them messages before they called it a night or called them out of a sound sleep.

All in all, she didn't mind the work. It gave her a sense of satisfaction. But now that she was well again, she knew it was a waste of her talents. Katherine had told her that over and over. Even dear little Bunni was beginning to say the same thing.

At a little past five, she turned on her radio to hear the earliest news and weather reports. Some of the clients liked to know what to expect before their eyes were fully opened.

As her shift ended and the sky began to lighten beyond the windows, Marti heard other parts of the building come to life. Aromas of breakfast wafted from the kitchen as she made wake-up calls to clients whose messages were held through the night.

The digital clock on her console read 5:58. She had come to the new client, Mr. Hildebrand.

Marti looked at his name for a moment before she punched out the number, wondering if he would be as cheerful this morning as he was the evening before. Maybe he would be a grouch, she thought with a twinge of apprehension. But she'd left his name for last in the before-six group, hoping perhaps to have a few extra words with him. Just to be friendly.

The phone rang four times before he answered in a slurred, muffled voice.

"Good morning, Mr. Hildebrand," she greeted with practiced brightness. "This is Suncoast Answering Service. There were no more messages through the night. The weather looks like it's going to be sunny and warm today. Have a nice day."

"Ah--ah--Marti!" he exclaimed, suddenly more alert. "Yes. Thanks. You have a nice day, too. Or as they say in Australia, 'G'day, luv.'"

Marti giggled, then broke the connection, pleased that he had been receptive.

Some people didn't click on that early in the morning, but he must be used to rising early.

A smile lingered in her eyes as she decided she'd probably like Mr. Hildebrand if she ever met him. There was a slim chance of that, though.

Once again, she moved the microphone out of her way and flexed her back.

"Coffee, Marti," Bunni called from the doorway, coming to relieve her.

Bunni walked with the slow deliberation of someone intent on what she was doing.

Afflicted with Downs syndrome, Bunni stretched beyond her limits constantly. She'd spent long hours on her diction and handwriting to be able to answer the phones and take messages.

Katherine and Marti had worked with her until she was as capable as any able-bodied woman at doing her job. Few people knew the voice that answered their morning calls belonged to a person society almost discarded.

Bunni put two cups of coffee on the desk and picked up Marti's cane from the floor.

"Anything special?" she asked expectantly.

"The new client called in last night," Marti told her. She removed her headset and left it on the desk. "I called him this morning. I think he'll probably be a regular wake-up. Aside from the usual later wake-ups, we're all caught up."

With her cane, Marti got to her feet, then picked up her coffee mug and took a long swallow. She watched Bunni log in, then tucked a file folder under her arm and started slowly in the direction of the dining room.

Burke Hildebrand dragged himself from the bed and thrust his naked body into the shower with barely a thought to what he was doing. He sighed with pleasure as the water sluiced over his body and the scent of the soap filled the steamy air.

The unlimited hot water of a motel was something he hadn't experienced in a long time--possibly the only advantage to staying in a place like this. After one night here, he already felt the beige-papered walls closing in on him.

He would go out of his mind if he had to spend five years in a motel room, while he worked on this project. Granted, his last quarters in the Outback of Australia couldn't compare with this place. But then again, it wasn't a home, either.

Burke stood under the shower longer than he needed to, trying to organize his thoughts for the day.

Joe Parmeter hadn't had much choice but to order him to leave the nearly finished Australian project and fly to Florida. Another company had stolen the chief engineer from him the week before the ground was to be broken on the multi-million dollar project.

The project, from the summary of plan he had seen, was an exciting one. It confirmed his feeling that he had indeed reached a rarified strata in the ranks of construction engineers. Years of college and retraining in seminars, fieldwork, long hours, the full fury of weather's caprice, dislocation and relocation were finally bearing fruit. It was an assignment he would have killed for.

As he dressed in a rumpled khaki shirt and work-worn jeans of an undistinguished color, he thought of the perks involved with this job. Answering service which woke him in the morning with the voice of an angel, not automatic or condescending, but a living, breathing person.

He laughed at his fantasy as he wiped some Australian dust from his brogans with tissues from the box on the nightstand. It was a useless exercise. His shoes would be twice as dirty the moment he stepped onto the jobsite that morning.

He was tucking a clean bandana into his hip pocket when there was a knock at the door. Burke took a moment to look out the peephole to see who was there.

"Mr. Hildebrand? I'm your assistant on this job," the gangling young man told him, before Burke had even unlocked the door.

Grabbing his briefcase, Burke swung the door open and went out onto the balcony.

"Len Lonergan?" he asked, locking the door behind him. "Joe was very high on you when he told me you were assigned to this job. He told me you're fresh out of Georgia Tech."

"Maybe not all that fresh, sir," Len laughed. "It's been a couple years. Joe thought I'd learn a lot from you."

Burke raised an eyebrow and a grin creased his mobile face. "Be a bit discriminating about that, young man," he advised. "I've been known to have raised Joe's hackles more than once. But never on an empty stomach. How's the coffee shop here?"

"There's a better place between here and the site," Len told him, starting down the cement steps toward the parking lot.

He loped over to an unmarked and unmarred white van. "This is the company's vehicle," Lon stated. "I guess you get the use of it."

"Hey, it's a step up from what I had on the last job," Burke appraised, taking the keys Len held out to him. "I had a four-by-four that lost its shocks the first week and I never had the time to replace them. What are you getting to drive?"

"A small pick-up," Len answered, then shrugged. "It's okay."

Burke studied the dashboard and the seat adjustments, then set the mirrors. "Hey, it has a phone!"

"--And answering service. And here's your beeper."

"Whoa! Joe's really putting some money into this job."

"The office trailer hasn't been delivered yet, so this is going to have to be your office for a while," Len explained.

"I'll survive," Burke laughed, starting up the motor and backing out of the parking place. "Which way to breakfast?"

Marti handed a print-out of the file Katherine had requested to the director of the group home.

That there was an opening in the home was a matter for some excitement among the residents. It meant someone had learned to take care of himself well enough to go back to live with his family. There was hope for the others. It didn't happen often enough.

Katherine looked at the folder and then up at Marti. "What do you think?" she asked.

"It's not up to me," Marti replied.

"Sit down a minute," Katherine invited. "I want to talk to you."

Marti lowered herself to a minimally padded straight chair near Katherine's desk and looked apprehensively at the middle-aged woman. Marti knew what was coming.

"You've been doing so well lately," Katherine told her with a bittersweet smile, "I think we're going to have to start looking for a placement for you. I've been searching for funding to keep you here as a full-time employee, not as a resident. But I'm afraid I haven't had very much encouragement."

The thought of staying on as an employee was of momentary interest to Marti, but only fleeting. "Maybe it's just as well," she said with a brightness she did not fully feel.

"I'd like to have you stay," Katherine assured her. "You're very good at training people for the switchboard and the computer. And you've made our filing system a thing of beauty. But you've got too much to offer to be stuck here. Now, do you want me to try to find an employment agency that will place you, or do you want to look for a job on your own?"

"Is there any rush?" Marti asked, suddenly overwhelmed. "It means looking for a job and a place to stay at the same time, and one depends on the other so much."

"Well, I'm not about to dump your suitcase on the sidewalk," Katherine told her, then laughed. "But the waiting list is twelve deep. I'd like to whittle it down to ten by the end of next month. We've got one resident leaving in two weeks. You're the other best possibility."

"I understand," Marti agreed, getting to her feet with the help of her cane. "I'll start looking through the want ads this afternoon."

"You don't have to do on your own," Katherine told her sympathetically. "I have some contacts we can use."

"It's not exactly unfamiliar territory," Marti reminded her. "I've looked for jobs before. When I graduated from college, I had about twenty interviews before I was hired."

"Whew! I get discouraged just thinking about it!" Katherine exclaimed.

"Right now, I need something to eat and a couple hours of sleep," Marti sighed.

"Go on, then." Katherine turned to her cluttered desk then glanced up again. "Oh, wait a minute!"

"What?" Marti asked, looking back over her shoulder.

"I think you ought to call your half-brother and tell him what great progress you're making," Katherine suggested. "Maybe he'll have some ideas--"

Marti shook her head.

Carl Lundstrum never seemed to have much interest in Marti herself, she thought, just in the sums of money he had to draft from her trust account for her expenses. But she made a mental note to call him later in the day. She would need his approval on the tough decisions facing her.

After having some breakfast in the dining room with several other residents, Marti took the elevator to her single room on the third floor. She took off her jeans and T-shirt, then removed the brace from her back, casually tossing it to the foot of her narrow bed. She picked up the lightweight robe from the back of a chair beside her bed and wrapped it around her with its sash loosely tied.

Marti plumped up one king-sized pillow and laid it along the right edge of the bed. Then she lay down on the cool sheet on her left side, allowing her back to rest slightly against the pillow.

She scribbled a note to herself to call Carl later, but right now, she was too tired to plan what she wanted to say to him. He was always so intimidating with his unanswerable questions.

It would be hard to leave the group home. The residents had been her family for almost a year. Now, though, it was time to move on. Time to move on.

Burke had forgotten to check his messages late in the day as he'd planned to. The first day of any job was always hectic. His day was spent meeting with the men who were employed by a subcontractor to clear the land and haul the debris away.

He'd been all over the worksite with a survey crew, away from his van most of the time, riding along with Len in his pick-up truck. He'd inadvertently left his beeper in the van.

A light drizzle had forced him back into the van at quitting time. He'd been so hungry that he went in search of a steak without thinking about messages.

Then when he got back to his motel room, he searched the television for some news. He found, instead, a college basketball game, the first he'd seen in a long time. When it was over and he had nothing else to do, he remembered to check his messages.

"Do you have a pencil handy, sir?" Marti asked him, her tone seeming to mean he had a lot of items coming his way.

"That bad?" Burke responded with a dry chuckle. He got up from his bed and searched his briefcase for a pencil, then snatched up a motel scratchpad to make notes on. "All right, honey. Fire when ready."

"These are in order of when they came in," Marti said.

She began by telling him when the office trailer would be moved to the site, that the paving subcontractor would meet with him the next day, and Joe Parmeter had made plans to be in Tampa on Thursday.

"Now, it appears that you didn't use your beeper today, or else the batteries are down. Could you check that out so we can reach you tomorrow? That way, you can take the calls on your cellular phone."

Burke laughed. "I have to admit to being a bad boy and leaving it in the van today, but I promise to carry my beeper tomorrow, Sarge! You'll be able to get me whenever you want me."

"The daytime operators are Bunni, Lisa and Carolyn," Marti told him.

"Oh! You don't work twenty-four hours a day?"

Her laugh was like lilting music. "No, thank goodness. Now, is there anything else we can do for you?"

"I'm going to need an office worker to take care of my office when it gets set up. Can you get me a list of employment agencies?" Burke asked.

"No problem. I'll drop it in the mail to you at your motel," she promised.

"Well, if it's that easy," Burke chuckled, "can you find me a good real estate agent who handles rentals? This motel room is already beginning to get to me."

"We happen to have a client who might be able to help you," Marti told him. "Would you like me to ask her when she calls in?"

"Please."

"What would you be interested in?"

"An apartment or small house within a couple miles of my worksite. Nothing fancy."

"I'll see what I can do."

"That would be great."

"Do you need a wake-up call tomorrow?" Marti asked, attending to business without sounding overly businesslike.

"Yes."

"What time?"

"Five-thirty."

"All right. Good night, Mr. Hildebrand."

Burke replaced the receiver, conscious he had prolonged the call a little just to have more contact with a real person, a real female person. He'd been in the bush too long.

Marti spent part of her afternoon looking through the telephone directory and the newspaper to compile a list of employment agencies. Taking her list into the office, she made a photocopy and mailed it to Burke Hildebrand at the motel where he was staying. She studied the original and then tucked it into the pocket of her jeans.

Lisa, a young woman confined to a wheelchair, was taking her turn that afternoon at the switchboard.

"Lisa, has Mrs. Alberti called in yet this afternoon?" Marti asked her, reaching for a spare message pad.

"Not yet," Lisa responded, her voice thin, not the one which she used when she spoke on the telephone.

Marti wrote her message on the slip of paper and inserted it in the folder for the real estate agent. She did not have to say anything more to Lisa. It would be condescending to tell her to give the message to Mrs. Alberti. Lisa was good at her job, but could work only about three hours at a time. It was just as well, because it gave someone else a chance to train for a few hours.

Lisa was very frail, and Marti was always concerned about her, but rarely made a point of mentioning it.

"I'm going to the kitchen. Could I get you anything?" Marti asked.

"Will you see if there are any oranges left from lunch?"

"Sure!" Marti promised. She moved away, her cane helping her to make better progress than she was able to when she used her crutches.

Katherine called to her as she passed the office. "Marti? Would you type something for me?"

Marti stopped and came back to the doorway. "Can it wait until I've had my lunch?"

"It probably could wait until tonight," Katherine told her. "It's just that I had it on my mind."

"I'll be right back, then," she told her.

The cook, a matronly woman named Bess who had endless patience dealing with the residents, grinned at Marti when she entered the kitchen.

"There's a sandwich for you in the fridge, Marti," she said, turning from supervising the rolling out of pie crust. "There's soup, too, if you want it warmed."

"This will be fine," Marti told her, taking the sandwich from the place where Bess put things for her. "Do you have any oranges left?"

"Sure."

"Could you have someone take one to Lisa? I'd take it myself, but Katherine has some work for me to do for her."

"Herbie can take it over when we finish with this crust, huh, Herbie?"

Herbie looked up from the pie crust he was rolling and nodded. Herbie had to be told everything to do, but when he understood, he could not be deterred without putting up a fight.

Marti took a napkin from the counter and returned to Katherine's office, where she sat down and unwrapped the sandwich.

"Now, what can I do for you?" she asked Katherine.

"There's some federal grant money floating around that I just heard of. I'd like you to help me put an application together," Katherine stated. She added one folder to a stack in her basket and opened another one. "If I get enough money for maintenance, then I can take some non-directed maintenance money to hire you as a full-time counselor and office help."

Marti picked up the steno pad that lay on Katherine's desk and opened it to a fresh page.

"All right," Marti agreed.

She knew in her heart that grants, particularly government grants, were difficult to come by. Katherine was grasping at straws. She had become too dependent on Marti to take care of the little day-to-day problems.

In fact they were too dependent on each other, Marti reflected a few minutes later when Katherine paused to think through another idea.

It was comfortable here. Marti had few decisions to make, few risks to take. Her meals were prepared for her, her room cleaned, her laundry done. It was all very neat. And yet, it was not the life that Marti needed.

Just out of community college a few years ago, she was eager to be on about her life. She had worked in the office of a plastics manufacturing firm and saved her money to add to her educational background.

One evening she and her parents had been out to dinner and their car had been rammed by a drunken driver. She'd regained consciousness a day later to find that her parents were gone.

She'd suffered a spinal injury which was expected to lead to partial paralysis. No one had reckoned with her spirit, though. No one had known how much she wanted to overcome the challenge placed before her.

Now there was another challenge facing her. She would have to leave this place to be the person she had once been.

"Katherine," she said softly as she closed the steno pad, "I appreciate the vote of confidence. I'll always be grateful for everything you have done for me here. But if you can't hire me, I'll be just as happy to go out on my own. I don't know how much of my disability settlement I have left. Carl has been taking care of that and I haven't really bothered to ask for the details. But I do have my education and I can get around better. It won't be easy, but I can make it."

Katherine looked at her sympathetically. "Maybe you can," she said. "I'll do anything for you to help you adjust to the outside. But there could be a place for you here."

Marti got up from her seat and picked up her cane. "I understand that, Katherine, but let's not count on it."

Katherine's smile was unexpectedly bright when she looked up at Marti. She nodded as though with a secret satisfaction. "I should have expected as much from you, Marti. You would never have gotten this far without a great deal of courage. It will hold you in good stead, I'm sure. You know you have my reference for any job you apply for."

"Thanks." Marti turned away quickly. "I'll type this report tonight when everything settles down. It will be on your desk in the morning."

Marti went over to the office of the answering service and watched as Carolyn relieved Lisa.

Carolyn no longer lived in the group home, having been able to return to her family even though she was confined to a wheelchair. She was robust and cheerful even with her limitations. Carolyn had been one of Marti's inspirations when she had first arrived at the group home.

"You're early!" Carolyn teased. "Or is it that you don't want me to work today?"

"I have to make some calls on the other line," Marti told her, settling into the swivel chair.

It was getting late in the day for the employment agencies to be open. Marti had made only a few calls when she began to encounter answering machines. Undaunted, she left messages.

Carolyn looked up from the review of the message traffic which was a part of her job. "Looking for a new job?" she asked.

Marti nodded, putting her list of employment agencies into her pocket. "It's about time I started looking. I suppose it will take a while, though."

Carolyn nodded. "I sometimes think maybe someone would hire me," she sighed. "But this fits into my mother's schedule at the restaurant. We both go to work at the same time and get off at the same time. If I worked from eight to five--" She finished her thought with a shrug of her shoulders.

The dinner bell sounded and Marti got to her feet slowly. "I'll see you at nine. Do you want anything from the kitchen?"

"Not just now," Carolyn answered, then pressed a button to answer a flashing light on the telephone system.

Marti left the office slowly, tucking away the note she had made to herself about calling Carl. This was not a good time of the day to reach him, she knew from experience.

All the world was opening up to her, she thought briefly, yet she hadn't the slightest idea of where to look for the gate.

With a little thrill that rippled through her, Marti recognized Burke's deep voice instantly. She abandoned the grant application she had been typing into the computer to look for his messages.

"Just Mr. Parmeter's flight number and arrival time for tomorrow," she told him.

"Good," Burke's voice came back to her. "Go ahead.....Okay. I've got it."

"Did your office trailer arrive?"

"Yes, finally. What a mess. Marti, do you know of a barber who is open late in the evening?"

"No, but a shop two blocks west of your motel opens at seven-thirty on Saturday mornings for men who can't get in during the week. I think he's open until about two. He's pretty good, too. You won't look like you've just gotten out of boot camp."

Burke's laugh was deep and uninhibited, and she thought how good it was to hear someone laugh like that.

"And how do you know about barbers and things like that?" Burke asked.

"Well, it's come up before on this job."

"Huh! Really? How?"

"Someone was visiting one of our clients to go to a wedding and needed a quick trim," she explained. "I made a few calls to see who was open and got him right in. He called back to thank me and said he was real pleased."

"That was thoughtful of him."

"It made my day."

"What would we do without you, Marti? You have an answer to my every need."

"Would you be Irish, Mr. Hildebrand?" she asked. "That sounds suspiciously like Blarney."

His response was another deep, uninhibited laugh and she laughed with him.

"Will you need a wake-up call tomorrow?"

"Yes, please. Five-thirty. Have a nice night, Marti."

"You, too, Mr. Hildebrand."

Marti went back to her typing with barely a thought to the words that flowed onto the screen of her word processor.

She wondered if Burke Hildebrand waited until he knew she would be on the desk before he called in. So far he had never called in when Carolyn was on the desk; she knew because she had checked the log.

Of course, checking the log was part of keeping up with the billing. If she waited until the end of the week to check the log, things were forgotten. Bunni in particular got flustered if there were any questions about her turn, so Marti checked all the logs every day or so.

There was just something about Burke Hildebrand's voice and his laugh that made her think she would like him. She generally liked her clients, but there were some men who were very condescending. They never took the time to say anything that wasn't absolutely necessary.

It was fine to be all business, she supposed, but it got terribly dull.

When she finished the work at hand, she did a few of her flexibility exercises. Then she took out the list of employment agencies and reviewed the notes she had made the afternoon before. There seemed to be only one that showed any promise.

She studied the bus schedule and decided that she could get there without bothering the driver of the group home's van. She needed to try this on her own, without any help from the home.

She could do this. She was sure of herself.

Marti took out the note she had made for the call she dreaded placing to Carl. When she placed the call, she got his answering machine and, contrary to her training, hung up.

Marti found other busywork to do in the office. She made an inventory of message pads and billing forms, but she knew that the call had to be made.

Gritting her teeth, she dialed the number once more, vowing to leave a message on the machine this time.

But Carl answered.

After the usual pleasantries, Marti moistened her lips and forged to the crux of the conversation.

"I'm about ready to leave this group home," Marti told him. "I'm able to get around on my own fairly well and I've been running the answering service for several months. The problem is that I'll have to find a job and a place to live."

There was a dead silence on the other end of the line while she took a breath and waited for Carl to respond.

"Well, of course, you could come here and live with me. I have a guest room," Carl offered, seeming under duress. "The building has an elevator. But the situation of getting a job--really, Marti, are you up to it?"

"I work here every day," Marti told him defensively. "I haven't missed more than a few hours since I started. Since I've been running the answering service, I haven't missed a minute."

"This city has more than its share of unemployed people," Carl pointed out. "I doubt that it would be easy to find something here in your condition. But you could come here for a little while and I'll see that you're taken care of."

"That's not the point," Marti argued, for the first time standing up to Carl, who was always intimidating. "I've been working so hard to be self-sufficient, it would be a setback to allow someone to take care of me."

"I see," Carl said softly, as though chastened. "It was a thought. The New York weather wouldn't be good for you anyway, since you're used to the Florida climate. What will you do?"

"I'll look for work here," Marti stated.

"I'll review your trust fund to see how it stands," Carl promised. "I know that your expenses have been down, and I've re-invested some of the money. I might be able to come up with something toward first month's rent and deposit."

"That would be a help," Marti agreed.

There didn't seem to be much more to say. Carl was a busy person. She imagined him at a desk stacked with legal papers to be gone through, reading glasses perched on his nose. His tie would be loosened and his shirt rumpled.

She had never seen him in less than suit and tie, crisp and neat, even in Florida heat.

How sterile his life seemed. Every bit as sterile as her own.

The difference was that she enjoyed her life as it was. Would she enjoy the new life she must build outside the group home as much, she wondered as she logged her own call.

"You'll have to forgive the state of this van. It's still my office, even though the office trailer arrived yesterday," Burke told Joe Parmeter as he chauffeured him from the airport to the worksite. The van pitched as he drove off the road onto the rutted earth. "It's hard to think of this place as Tanglewood Commercial Complex," he said, shaking his head.

Joe laughed. "If memory serves, you've always been assigned to a project after it's been started, when it's already taking shape. This is the first one you've been in charge of from the day one."

"If you weren't forever bailing out other contractors when they've been in trouble, maybe I'd have had my own project before now," Burke teased. He was able to poke fun at Joe after an association which was in its eighth year.

"Tanglewood is a good name for it, eh?" Joe asked.

"Jungle-wood would have been a good name! It's slow going in the area we're clearing now, even with the bulldozers." Burke parked at the edge of the worksite.

"You are being careful to clear only the area you have to, aren't you?" Joe asked, skeptically.

"You better believe it. There's a lot of pressure here to preserve as much of the vegetation as we can. Unfortunately, any disturbance of the vegetation is also displacing the creatures. We've already had to call in a state agency to relocate a couple of snakes for us."

"What about 'gators?"

"I haven't seen one yet," Burke chuckled, getting out of the van.

"They're nothing to fool around with," Joe warned, getting out of the van and taking off his sports jacket.

It was a good, warm day even for February. The sun glinted off the side of the office trailer. Where it shone through the trees, it dappled the disturbed land which would soon be an access road to the interior of the tract. Over the next five years, a collection of office buildings, small factories and warehouses would rise from the scrub.

Joe took a moment to look around before following Burke into the office. "You should be able to get quite a lot done before the summer rains," he appraised.

Burke laughed. "Rain? What's that? I don't think I've seen any in the godforsaken places you've sent me in the last three years. We had something wet earlier in the week, but the men told me it was liquid sunshine. They assured me it wasn't rain."

Joe laughed and surveyed the inside of the trailer. It was cavernously empty, a jumble of furnishings all pushed to one side in no apparent order.

"This just got here yesterday," Burke told his boss. "I was going to stay late last night and arrange it but I got as far as there and ran out of gas. I guess it's left-over jetlag."

"Don't think you have to do everything by yourself," Joe told him. "I employ you to be an engineer, not a furniture mover or a cleaning lady."

"That's reassuring. I think." Burke picked up a well-padded chair and started toward the separate office at the end of the trailer. Joe hefted another chair and followed him.

"I'm really excited about this project," Joe confided as he sank into the chair and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. "The architectural plans show some real style."

Burke sat down and leaned back. "Yes, that attracts me, too. I want you to know that I'm planning to stick this out to the end."

"I never thought that you wouldn't," Joe chuckled. "You've never given up on anything yet, never threatened to walk out on me or take someone else's offer. That's why I gave you this job."

"All right, then. We understand each other. Look, the motel room I'm in is already closing in on me. Maybe it's because I've been used to all that space in Australia. Anyway, I want to rent a house for myself while I'm here."

"Burke, if you're going to be here five years, you might as well buy one, don't you think?" Joe suggested forcefully.

Burke looked at him seriously for a long moment, then shook his head. "No," he sighed. "I've never owned a place of my own. I've been spending most of my time in the crummy motel rooms you rent for me! The reason I thought I might rent a house is that an apartment might get to me, too."

"All right," Joe proposed, "I'll adjust your pay for you when you find a place. I think renting might be a good move, but buying a place would be even better for you."

"I suppose it will depend on what I can find," Burke said thoughtfully. "I have an appointment with a real estate agent Saturday. You know, that answering service you subscribed to for us is really on the ball. The night operator there has put me onto a agent, an employment agency and a barber who's open Saturday."

Joe laughed and searched his pocket for his pipe. "I'm glad I did something right. Now, let's get down to business."

It had been an adventure, Marti told herself as she sat waiting to be interviewed by a placement counselor in an employment agency.

She'd gone through this hassle before, then had gotten her job at the plastics firm because someone there knew her from college. The plastics firm had gone through two changes of ownership since the accident had disabled her. Marti had been informed her former position had been filled. Not that she was surprised. She wasn't sure she wanted to go back there anyway, after some of the things she'd heard since.

The woman who called her into a cubical to interview her looked at her crutches skeptically.

"Sprained ankle?" she asked.

"Ah, no," Marti replied, recognizing the problem immediately. "It's a little more serious than that."

"You might want to wait until you don't need the crutches before you go out on any interviews," the woman advised, sitting down behind her desk rather prissily.

Marti merely nodded.

"I must say I am very impressed with your credentials," she complimented, looking over the application form in front of her. "But you have a gap in here of about nine months. Can you tell me about that?"

"I was in an accident and it took quite a while to recover," Marti told her as normally as she could handle.

"So the crutches are permanent?" the interviewer asked in a judgmental voice. "Handicapped people are very difficult to place. Employers are afraid they won't show up regularly, that they'll be a strain on the health insurance."

"That might be true of handicapped people," Marti agreed, getting to her feet with a very deliberate movement and fitting her crutches under her arms. "However, I am not handicapped. My abilities outweigh my limitations. Thank you for your time. I'll look for representation elsewhere."

Maybe I shouldn't have said it quite that way, she thought a hundred times on the bus back to the group home. For a first outing, it could only be viewed as a disaster.

A voice inside hounded Marti that she needed as much work on her attitude as the interviewer she'd faced.

The only way to silence any opposition to being hired was to walk without crutches or a cane, without assistance of any kind. The therapist who worked with her felt that was still a long way ahead of her. But Marti couldn't wait long to find a job of her own. She had to keep looking.

Freshly trimmed and fragrant from the barber, Burke arrived at Marie Alberti's real estate office promptly at nine on Saturday morning. She was just unlocking the door of her strip-center office.

He spent half an hour with the grandmotherly Italian woman, looking through a book of listings to find something that would satisfy his needs. She'd given him a scratchpad to make notes on. While she was diverted to answer the phone, he noticed the advertising on the pad.

Suncoast Answering Service, 17 Brickmun Court. Um!

The notepad got quite a workout that morning as they looked at houses within a short drive of the Tanglewood development.

"I'm afraid none of these is quite what I had in mind," Burke told Marie after they had gone through the fourth house. "They are probably nice places for older people who are only here for a few months of the year, but I'll be here for five years. I take up a bit of space."

Marie's brows raised over her brown eyes. "I really think you should think of buying, then," she advised. "Unless there's some reason that isn't feasible--"

"My boss has already suggested it to me," Burke affirmed, giving the idea more weight in his mind.

"I'm listing a place close to your worksite," Marie commented. "Let me drive you by and if you want to look at it we'll take a look. But I warn you, it was specially built. The heirs are amenable to a reasonable offer just to get the estate settled. That happens a lot down here."

From the quiet street, the house looked slightly seedy, but it was nothing a landscaping crew couldn't handle with a few hours' work. It was typically Spanish-style, with cream stucco walls and a red tiled room. The front courtyard was walled and gated with elaborate wrought iron. There were iron grates on the windows and the arched front door had an additional grate.

"It looks--very secure," Burke observed.

"An elderly woman lived here," Marie explained. "She had a live-in nurse. It's really quite nice inside."

"Yes, I think I would like to see the inside."

"Good!"

It was the pool with its built-in spa that sold Burke. The house had more room than he needed. He told himself it would be a good place for all his relatives from New Jersey to stay when they took Florida vacations.

As he stood surveying empty space, he envisioned what he would do with it. He'd set up a drawing board in the living room, and use the room that looked out on the pool for a living room--

"I'll take it," he told Marie. "When can I move in?"

"Well, it usually takes eight to ten weeks to close," Marie said, caught by surprise at his quick decision.

"That long?" Burke asked. "I'll go crazy in the motel."

Marie scratched the top of her salt-and-pepper head. "I could call the heirs and see if they would rent it to you until the closing. They're so anxious to unload the place, they might be agreeable. We'll go back to the office, and I'll call them while you fill out the papers."

Half an hour later, he was finishing a mortgage application while Marie was on the phone to someone in Michigan. Burke noticed a stack of maps of Hillsborough County on the cabinet beside Marie's desk.

"Go ahead and take one of those," she invited in an aside. "Take a few. It will help you and your people learn their way around."

While she talked on the phone, Burke studied the map.

For some reason, he noticed Brickmun Court. Where had he heard or seen that name before? Oh, yes, the Suncoast Answering Service.

Marie hung up the phone a short time later. "The man I spoke to has to talk it over with his sister," she explained. "But he liked the idea of someone living in the house as soon as possible. He said he'd be inclined to go along with anything I thought was reasonable for two months. The way we generally figure rent for a month is one percent of the house's value."

Burke thought for a moment. "Well, that seems fair, considering what rent of a motel room is costing my company."

"Good. How can I reach you later today when I get something definite?"

"Through Suncoast Answering Service," Burke told her. "It's been nice doing business with you, Marie. We'll probably be seeing a lot of each other in the next few months."

Marie laughed. "You'll think we see too much of each other."

When Burke got back into his van, he took out one of the maps and studied it to see how he could get to Brickmun Court from where he was. He should drop by and tell whoever was there that he appreciated Marti's help.

It wasn't hard to get there, but the only thing he could see was a sign that said 17 Brickmun Court was a group home and sheltered workshop for handicapped adults. Well, maybe the scratch pad was old stationery. Maybe Suncoast Answering Service had moved out.

He'd seen a taco stand a few blocks away, and his stomach told him it needed sustenance. The mystery of Suncoast Answering Service could wait until he had something solid in his system to make mental exercises easier.

"Thank you for everything you've done for me," Burke told Marti that evening when he called in.

She'd told him the good news from Mrs. Alberti. He would be able to move into the house he wanted to buy while the paperwork went through. She could hear the excitement in his voice.

"I'm pleased things have worked out well for you," she remarked.

"Not everything has worked out so well," Burke complained in a teasing voice. "But I've got to say I like your batting average so far."

"Oh? What hasn't worked out?" she asked, concerned.

"One of the employment agencies you recommended sent two women out to look at the job, and they both turned it down."

Marti paused a moment before commenting. "Huh! Jobs aren't that easy to come by. I'm surprised you didn't get a better response."

"So am I," Burke agreed, a note of wonderment in his voice. "I hope I don't come across as an ogre to work for. But I guess it's because we're too far off the bus line and the place is pretty rugged, although it's in the city. A woman would be the only one working here. There aren't very many women working land clearing and excavating jobs."

"That could be the problem," Marti agreed with a chuckle. "A woman would have to be pretty sure of herself to take on that kind of a job."

"Things will get better fairly soon," Burke assured her. "Now I really need someone who can get our office organized before the paperwork gets too far out of hand. Oh. And I need to contact an office-cleaning firm. Any help?"

"Sure!"

"Why did I doubt for an instant that you knew one?" Burke laughed.

"Rainbow Cleaning Service," Marti suggested. "I'll have them contact you first thing Monday morning."

"I really appreciate all this help, Marti," Burke told her. "I just had a great idea. Are you free for dinner tomorrow night?"

"Ah--Mr. Hildebrand--"

"Well, if you're married and have six kids, I'll take you all to McDonald's," Burke teased, blithely.

"No, I'm not married."

"Going with someone?"

"No. It's just that--"

"Company policy. No fraternizing with the clients--"

"Actually, no. That's definitely not an issue."

"Then what's the problem? I told you I'm not an ogre, at least--no, it's not the full of the moon. You've been very nice to me, and I'd like to take you to dinner."

"For one thing, I have to be on duty at nine tomorrow night."

"No problem. We could make it early--"

"Mr. Hildebrand--" Marti sighed. She'd run out of excuses, except for the one she knew would probably discourage him flat. "Oh. Sorry. I have another call coming in."

"Some other time, then. No wake-up tomorrow, okay?"

"Good night, sir." Marti broke the connection with a trembling finger.

There was no incoming call. Maybe if there had been, the need to be in control would have kept Marti from feeling so--well, kind of hollow inside.

The truth was that she had fantasized about what Burke Hildebrand was like. He certainly had a kind voice and a nice laugh. He couldn't possibly be as handsome as she'd constructed him in her mind.

It had taken inner strength to turn down a date with him. But she'd created a minor god in her imagination, and she wanted to prolong the illusion as long as she could. She certainly didn't want to expose her own shortcomings to his scrutiny.

Months from now, when she'd thrown away crutches and cane and learned to walk without the slightest hint of a limp, she could meet Burke Hildebrand. Yes, that thought would keep her going toward a new goal.

She picked up some filing she had to do.

He'd had a swim in the motel pool, read most of the Tampa Tribune Sunday edition, and the idea still nagged at him. Burke dug out the map of Tampa and some of the bits and pieces of paper that had been accumulating on the desk in his motel room.

He saw a pattern developing, and to check it out, he reached for the telephone directory.

The group home, the Suncoast Answering Service, the Rainbow Cleaning Service--all the same address. Burke decided he thought better when he was doing something, so he went back down to the pool and did twenty more laps.

He hadn't changed his mind, though. The idea still had some merit, and he felt powerless to stop the wheels that seemed to be in motion. For one thing, he knew he wouldn't sleep that night if he didn't follow up on the crazy idea buzzing around in his head.

So he showered, then took extra care in shaving the blondish stubble from his square jaw. Carefully, he removed a fresh pair of gray slacks from the plastic cleaner's wrapper. He'd worn his favorite shirt the day before when he went looking at houses, so he dug out his second favorite, a dark blue sportshirt. Then he put on the boots he'd brought back from Australia.

Yup, he thought, appraising his image in the mirror, this is as good as you get, mate.

He had made up his mind to meet this Marti-with-an-i and that was exactly what he was going to do. When Burke Hildebrand promised someone a meal, he kept his promise. If she couldn't leave the home, he'd find a way to bring a meal to her. There had to be some treat she could appreciate, and by George, she deserved it for all the help she'd been to him.

He was concerned about what he would find, but it couldn't be any worse than his old friend Kevin. When they were kids, Kev had gotten some disease that had degenerated his bones until he could no longer even sit in a wheelchair. A breathing difficulty became pneumonia. Kevin had died at the age of fifteen, a brilliant witty mind that might have literally soared to the stars--wasted. Burke had mourned for months.

Whatever problem Marti had, Burke would cope long enough to fulfill his promise. He was a man of his word.

It was too hot to sleep, so Marti had gotten up just after noon, washed and dried her long, light brown hair and put on fresh jeans and an long Tampa Bay Buccaneers' T-shirt. She was doing her fingernails, out of boredom, when Bunni came puffing to her open dormitory room door.

"Katherine told me to tell you that you have a gentleman caller," Bunni gasped, concentrating on the message. Then she grinned, sure she had delivered it properly.

Marti laughed and blew on her nails. When she looked up at Bunni, the girl was grinning at her expectantly. Katherine was not one to pull tricks on anyone, and Bunni was unable to lie.

"I have a gentleman caller? Sure I do. Where?"

"In her office. Come on. Hurry."

Everything was always a wonderful adventure to Bunni, a big surprise around every corner. Maybe that is what had made her so good to work with in the answering service; she never got bored.

"Tell Katherine I'll be down in a minute. Go on. It won't take me long."

Bunni was gone, leaving the third-floor corridor echoing with the little humming noise she made when she was happy.

Marti pushed her feet into her low-heeled shoes and looked around for her cane. It was resting against the chenille of her bedspread and she could not pick it up without ruining her newly painted nails. So she took her crutches from their place near the door and fit them under her arms.

Bunni was standing outside the open door of Katherine's office waiting for her when she got down to the first floor. She didn't say anything, just smiled the little smile she had that told Marti something pleased her.

The moment Marti entered Katherine's office, a tall sandy-haired man stood up and smiled back at her. He had blue eyes and a deep dimple at each side of his mouth. The smile was vaguely questioning.

Katherine sat on the corner of her desk. "Marti, this is Mr. Hildebrand, one of your clients."

"How do you do?" Marti said cordially, nodding in his direction. She would have reached her hand out to him, but she needed the support of her crutches just then. Oh, yes, she felt a weakness in her knees.

She had seen that look in other people's eyes, but it slipped away in his faster than in anyone she had ever seen before.

A grin separated his lips, exposing strong white teeth. His eyes were a sparkling blue, accented by lines at their corners, lines from squinting in the bright sunlight.

She liked his face. It was the kind of face that could never hide anything. She had known from his voice that he would be handsome.

"I was just telling Mrs. Nelson what a help you've been to me since I came to town," he told her.

The sound of his voice took away any doubt she had that this was the man whose calls she'd begun to look forward to each night. In a way, it was as though they were old friends.

She looked away from him, unable to watch the intensity of his eyes any longer. "I--ah--I'm glad--I've been some help."

"I thought maybe you could show me around town and we could have an early dinner," Burke suggested. "I really think I owe you--"

"Burke--Mr. Hildebrand--"

"You were right the first time."

"I really don't think--" Marti tried to back off.

Katherine stood up and reached out to take Marti's arm. "I think it's okay, Marti. Just to get out of here for a little while, huh?"

"Look, I--I don't feel right going out in these old jeans and this shirt," Marti told him, clutching at any excuse to put the inevitable off a little longer.

"All right," Katherine said. "You take a few minutes to change into that new pink outfit you got after Christmas. In the meantime, I'll show Mr. Hildebrand around the building."

Bunni followed Marti back up to her room, offering all kinds of help, much more excited than Marti was. Marti, out of love for someone who had treated her like a sister, let Bunni search for her white shoes. Then she suggested Bunni help her decide which of her two scents of cologne to use.

Marti moistened her lips and smoothed the ribbed hem of her pink sweater over the crisp white and pink striped culottes she had worn only twice before. Dressing still took a lot of her energy and for once, she didn't begrudge her body its temporary awkwardness.

But the inevitable moment came, anyway. Marti picked up her cane and returned to the hallway just outside Katherine's office. In a way, she hoped something had happened in the intervening moments to convince Burke to change his mind about taking her to dinner.

"This is really a fascinating place," Burke was telling Katherine as she led him back to her office. "You must be very proud--"

"But we can't possibly help everyone who needs the kind of services we can provide," Katherine informed him. "We need more room and another a full-time counselor."

Katherine cast a meaningful look at Marti, then nodded approvingly.

It had been a long time since she'd had a date, even as impromptu as this one. As much as she admired the man, she was not pleased about Burke Hildebrand's insistent manner.

"If you're ready, Marti," Burke said, "I'll go bring my car around. It's parked down at the other end of the parking lot."

"We do get a little jammed up on Sundays when people come to visit our residents," Katherine observed.

Marti would have made an issue of his going to the extra trouble had she not wanted to talk to Katherine for a moment. She watched Burke walk away with long easy strides then turned back to Katherine.

"How could you do this to me?" she pleaded, already uncomfortable and short of breath.

"Do what?" Katherine asked. "I couldn't very well tell him you weren't here when Bunni and Lisa were right there. Bunni doesn't know how to tell a lie; she would have told him you were here."

Marti agreed reluctantly. "All right, all right."

Katherine put her hand gently on Marti's shoulder and lowered her head to speak confidentially to her as the family of one of the residents passed them.

"Marti, he's a lovely man," she told her. "Can't you just see it in his face? And it's only a dinner out, not an arranged marriage, for heaven's sake."

"But--" Marti protested, "I haven't been out with anyone since--"

"It's about time you were," Katherine declared, starting to maneuver Marti toward the front door. "I wouldn't be saying this to you if I didn't think you would be safe."

"All right," Marti agreed, reluctantly. She had just reached the glass door, which opened automatically when anyone neared it, as Burke approached it from the other direction.

Burke took her free hand and pulled it into the crook of his arm, matching his stride to her uncertain gait.

"I'm afraid my own car hasn't been delivered yet," he said as they approached his van at the end of the walkway. "This is the van I use for my office at the work site. If any of the litter gets into your way, just kick it aside. Another footprint won't make much difference."

"It's fine, really," Marti told him. She brightened as she spotted the swivel seat and the low running board which provided an extra step. "These vans are a little tricky to get into, but I like being able to slip out of the seat into a standing position."

"Good," Burke said. "Tell me how I can help you in."

Marti laid her cane on the floor of the van. "I can manage."

"Watch your head," Burke said, solicitously standing by.

Having levered herself into the seat, Marti felt herself relax as she settled in and fastened her seatbelt.

Burke got in on the driver's side. "Good; I don't have to tell you to use the seatbelt."

"Not me!" she replied. "It's what saved my life two years ago."

"So Katherine was telling me." He seemed not to want to dwell on his conversation with Katherine. "What can you show me of Tampa?"

"Ha! A challenge-- The University of Tampa might interest you. The main building is an old hotel built in the last century with a strong Victorian and Arabian influence."

"That I've got to see!" Burke laughed, putting the van in gear.

Marti directed Burke though the town she had been born in, trying to think of landmarks a man of his background would find interesting.

Each time they came to a construction site, Burke's attention took in the bulky equipment used to shift earth around. Marti was amused that his eyes seemed to search out anything painted yellow.

"What are you grinning at?" Burke asked, catching her looking at him.

"You seem to have the van trained to slow down at construction sites," she teased.

Burke's laughter filled the van. "Guilty. I love earthmovers and bulldozers and cranes and--backhoes!"

Marti shook her head. They were all just big and yellow and somewhat scary to her.

"Some kids like cars or trains or planes," he reflected. "I've always liked heavy equipment."

"Can you operate things like that?"

He nodded. "I worked a couple summers in construction before I got my degree. You have to know how those things work, what they're capable of, when you're in charge of a site."

He went on and on about his work then. It seemed to fill the space between them, and Marti found she was actually interested in his occupation, and everything else

about him.

After a while, Burke began looking for a place where they could eat dinner. Marti vetoed his first suggestion.

"No, that place is too fancy and overpriced," she told him.

"If you say so," Burke chuckled, an easy camaraderie having grown between them. "What do you suggest?"

Marti looked at him with careful assessment, then made her decision. "I think I know just the place. Turn left down at the next corner."

It's going pretty well, Burke thought, following Marti's directions.

He'd been prepared to find someone who had a physical problem when he got to the group home. But he wasn't ready for the fragile beauty that shyly confronted him. From what Katherine Nelson had told him about Marti, he was already in awe of her tenacity and determination.

"This was my father's favorite place to eat," Marti told him, when he'd followed her directions to a shopping plaza. He parked as close as he could to the front door.

"Now, you let me get around to that door and help you," he cautioned.

"I can handle this myself."

"You might know that," he reminded her, "but I don't. Humor me this once, and I'll let you be as independent as you want later on."

"Deal!" Marti agreed with a laugh.

She slid from the high seat of the van to land lightly on her feet and took her cane in her right hand.

Burke closed the door and took her arm in what he hoped was a firm but gentle grip. He'd been a wrestler in college and some of his sparring partners had told him he didn't know his own strength. God, he'd die if he caused her even the slightest pain.

The inside of the Jack of Diamonds was casual, filled with tables set for four people, mostly empty. It was a little early for dinner.

The hostess smiled at Marti, and, having seen her cane, asked solicitously, "Would you prefer a table or one of the booths?"

"A booth, please," Marti answered, then followed the hostess to a secluded area toward the back, along a wall.

"This restaurant probably doesn't look very sophisticated to you," she commented when the hostess had gone, "but the food is good, real nourishment. At least, I hope it's still as healthy as it was when I came here last."

"What do you suggest?" Burke asked, opening his menu.

She leaned across the table and pointed to something with a freshly manicured fingernail. "Barbecued beef with potatoes, beans and slaw. That's what my dad usually had here."

"What do you usually get?"

"Oh, a salad and a sandwich, maybe some onion rings or curly-fries."

"Are you sure that will be enough?" he asked skeptically. "I don't want you to go back and tell Katherine that I didn't feed you enough after she talked you into coming with me."

Marti laughed. "Just remember you said that when the food comes!"

She frowned when she looked back at the menu.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Oh, the prices have gone up a little," she told him. "I suppose I should have expected it. When I first started to get out and about again, I was shocked by the prices, but then, we have to go to places where we can get access with wheelchairs and crutches, so that lets out the places where I usually went for bargains."

"I never thought of that," Burke mused. "That you would have to pick the places you shop by your mobility."

"I don't have many needs, anyway," Marti remarked. "Just the personal items--shampoo, toothpaste, that sort of thing. Most of my pay from my job goes to offset the expense of my care. I get a few dollars, so when--I see higher prices, I cringe."

"Don't worry about it now," Burke said. "I think the prices here are reasonable, compared with other areas. I didn't have many options in the Outback. Just take it on faith that I can afford whatever you can eat."

Marti laughed unexpectedly and put her menu aside.

Yes, it was going very well.

She asked him about his experiences in Australia, then gave him her rapt attention as he described the project he had worked on. She was an intelligent listener and made the time go quickly until they were served. Then she chuckled knowingly when he exclaimed about how much food was set in front of them.

"You don't know how scared I was that this place had gone to wreck and ruin." Marti sighed with relief as she moved things around on the table that had suddenly become crowded. "I'll trade you a wedge of tomato and two onion rings for three curly-fries."

"I may never get to the curly-fries," Burke laughed. "Go ahead, take as many as you want."

"Try that mild sauce and the hot stuff and see which you like," she suggested.

"I think I'd better stick to the mild sauce," he laughed. "I've been out of the country longer than I thought."

She was easy to talk to, and he forgot about her physical problem until he saw her cane lying along the back of the bench. He wanted to talk to her about the accident she had been in and how far along in her rehabilitation she was. But the restaurant had begun to fill up, and he didn't want to cause her any embarrassment.

"Do you have any family?" Burke asked her after he'd told her about his parents, younger brother and sister back in New Jersey.

"I have two half-brothers in New York," she said, then smiled. "I tell myself that that amounts to one brother, which is about right. I can't remember ever meeting the one but the other came down and settled my parents' estate. Carl is a fairly successful lawyer in New York. He was declared my legal guardian and took care of all the details for me while I was recovering from the worst of all this."

Burke looked back at her apologetically for leading the conversation exactly where he didn't want it to go. "I'm sorry I mentioned--"

Marti shook her head. "It's all right. I can talk about some things very easily. Carl was one of the bright spots in all of this. He'd never come to terms with my father after he married my mother. Taking care of the details, he said, let him work out a lot of his guilt. I guess that might be part of the way things were supposed to happen."

"You have a marvelous attitude," Burke remarked.

Marti laughed. "It's an achievement in itself. I have had very bad attitudes at times. There were times when the going got tough and the tough went back to sleep."

He shook his head and watched the waitress refill his coffee.

"At least now I can get around a little more," Marti said. "I went looking for a job Friday."

"Did you find anything?" Burke asked.

Marti glanced at him, then looked away. "Attitudes."

Burke nodded. "Right. What are you looking for? Receptionist? Secretary?"

"I have an Bachelor of Arts degree in Business," she informed him in an I-can-tackle-anything voice.

Burke looked at the set of her jaw and the clarity of her blue eyes. "I have a job for someone who can organize a one-person office and manage it without a lot of supervision from me. Someone has to know what sub-contractors are on the job and what they are doing. It job requires someone who can keep track of where we are on the schedule every day. With a little bookkeeping to see that the money flows, but only when the work is done."

"The problem is that it isn't on the bus line," Marti told him. "I'm a long way from having my own car again. I had Carl sell mine rather than have to worry about storing it and insuring it. There is no guarantee I'll ever be able to drive again."

"Oh," he said.

"Then there's the problem with having a place to live. If I'm not working for the sheltered workshop, I don't have a place to stay."

"You need something on the ground floor, huh?" Burke looked at her for a long time. "There are solutions and there are perfect solutions. Sometimes you have to take a solution and make it perfect."

"Sorry," Marti said with a wistful smile. "It's just that the timing's off. Maybe in a few months I'll have a job and car and I can come talk to you. Of course, you can't wait that long."

"I'm afraid not."

He was still thinking over the problem when he took Marti back to the group home. They walked slowly up to the front of the home and through the automatically opening doors.

"Do you go right to work now?" Burke asked.

Marti laughed. "No, I'll have to go up and change into something I can be comfortable in."

"You weren't comfortable this evening?"

"With the company, yes, perhaps," she answered. "But this outfit is scratchy on the inside."

She laid her hand on his arm. "Thank you for a lovely evening. I'm glad Katherine talked me into going with you."

He wouldn't tell her that he'd had his doubts about the venture, but had a wonderful feeling now that everything had turned out better than he had hoped. "We'll have to do this again soon so I'll learn my way around town."

"You'll get tired of my taste in restaurants," she teased, starting to back away from him.

But he caught the hand that had been resting on his arm and clutched it in his own.

Her blue eyes looked back at him in surprise.

He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. He didn't know quite why he did that, except that he'd wanted to kiss her and had known instinctively that she wasn't quite ready for it.

An hour later, his head still full of thoughts of Marti, he dialed the number of the answering service from his motel room and asked for his messages. He wasn't expecting anything; he just wanted to hear her voice.

"Let's see if there is anything in your folder," Marti mused. "Oh. You mother called. Do you need the number?"

"Heck no!" Burke laughed. "They've had the same number since I was a little kid. Even when they moved to a bigger house, they were able to keep the same number. Is that all?"

"It looks like it." Marti made a mark in her log to show that the message had been forwarded.

"I'll have to call her and tell her about the house I'm buying. She'll be really pleased."

"It's pretty late," Marti cautioned, glancing at the clock.

"Oh, Mom's a real night owl," Burke laughed. "When her arthritis bothers her, she sits up and reads mysteries."

"Hmm! Oh, do you want a wake-up call in the morning?"

"Usual time, please. And, Marti, I enjoyed our evening together. Think about the job, huh?"

"I will. I promise. Goodnight, Burke."

At three o'clock, he called back. "I know I'm abusing my privilege here," he apologized. "But I can't sleep and I'm not used to being so alone."

"Did you call your mother?" Marti asked, amused that it sounded as though she was nagging him.

"Yes. Mom and Dad are just fine. It's good to hear her voice after we hadn't been able to talk to each other for so long. I invited them to come down to visit as soon as I get into my new house. I guess that's one of the things that has me too wound up to sleep. It's a big house, and it's not that I don't know what to do with all that space, but it's the responsibility of it all."

Marti nodded in agreement. "Yes, it must be rather daunting to have to decide what to do with it all."

"I hope the neighbors won't be angry with me if I go swimming every morning. I'm looking forward to that. Do you like to swim?"

"Not particularly," Marti said. "I'm afraid of deep water."

"It has a heated spa in one corner of the pool. That would be good for your back, wouldn't it?"

"It would be great!" Marti said. But she didn't take casual remarks seriously.

"Then I'll have to ask you to my housewarming. Have you given any thought to the job I offered you?"

"I've had my hands full with this job tonight," Marti laughed. "Our fund-raising carnival is early in May. The work I have to do for it is always the first out-the planning and scheduling and publicity. I've been pulling last year's files and upgrading them. Considering the goal this year, it's going to mean a lot more work all around." She took a deep breath. "Besides, I don't think I could work out at Tanglewood. There are just too many problems."

"You should never say anything like that to an engineer," Burke scolded, then laughed. "It's like waving a red flag in his face, daring him to come up with a solution. It's getting awfully late, isn't it? I should get some sleep, but my body schedule has been all messed up since I got back from Australia. Every afternoon I want to take a nap, and I'm sitting here thinking late at night. But it's getting a little better. Promise you'll think about the job?"

"I will," Marti agreed.

When she had broken the connection, she had to admit the job he'd offered her had captured her random thoughts all evening long. But she would have to find a job somewhere near the group home and the apartments that were available to her.

She had long since come to terms with the accident and its disastrous effects on her life. There was nothing that could be done about some of the problems that had come up, but the attitude of some people whom she had to ask for a job could not easily be changed.

She suspected it would not be hard to work for Burke Hildebrand. Nor would it be difficult to be his friend. If she could drag herself away from being lost in his pale blue eyes.

Marti turned to the billing and eventually came upon the note of her call to Carl. For a long moment, she sat staring into space, picturing Carl Lundstrum in her mind.

Marti knew very little about the spare, blond man who peered down at her through glasses framed so slightly she wondered how fragile they were. She could see a strong Lundstrum family resemblance, in the high rounded forehead, the narrow chin and piercing blue eyes. In the fog of pain-killer medication, she had first mistaken him for her father. That flus