Sophie tried not to feel hurt, but Kade's abrupt departure as well as his gruff refusal had stung. He'd reacted the same way to a church invitation, but this was different. Kind of.

As she'd driven to the restaurant, she'd had a good talk with herself. Whatever gnawed at Kade had nothing to do with her. She just happened to be in the line of fire. Either that or she was unintentionally pushing all the wrong buttons.

Now, as she sat across from him, downing pepperoni pizza and bubbly fountain soda, she decided to clear the air.

"Why do you get prickly every time I mention Christmas?"

He was in midbite, a string of melted mozzarella stretching from a rather attractive mouth to the pizza slice. Okay, so his mouth was really attractive. Firm, sculpted, with tiny brackets on either side. Davey sat next to him, the towhead barely reaching Kade's elbow in the deep booth. Kade had dropped Sheba at the house with the promise to both dog and boy to save a slice for her.

He chewed and swallowed, an amazing accomplishment considering how tight his jaw always was. "I told you I'm not much on Christmas."

"Why?"

"Too commercial. Crime rates skyrocket."

"I've heard people say that."

He peered at her over his soda. "But you don't agree."

She intentionally shook her head hard enough to make the bell earrings jingle. "Didn't you have Christmas when you were a boy?"

Something passed over his face but was gone faster than Davey's first pizza slice. "Sure. I was a kid. Kids do Christmas. They don't know any better."

She was certain he wanted to say more. Certain there was a "but" at the end of his sentence. But something had changed him, something had stolen his childlike belief in all things Christmas.

"I believe," she said simply.

"In Christmas?"

"And in the reason for Christmas. Jesus."

"Yeah."

Was that a "yes, he believed in Jesus," or a polite acknowledgment of her faith?

She leaned forward, put a hand on his forearm. It was rock-hard with hewn muscle. "Christmas really is the most wonderful time of the year, Kade. So many good things happen. People give more, reach out more. I know there's trouble in the world. There always has been. There were griefs and heartaches when Jesus was born. He faced plenty of His own, but He never let that stop Him from sharing joy and peace and love."

He made a soft noise, not quite a harrumph or a humbug. More of an interesting-but-I-don't-want-to-talk-about-it sound.

"Did you ever read the Grinch Who Stole Christmas?" she asked.

"You saying I'm a Grinch?" Was that a sparkle she spotted behind that scowl?

"No, I'm saying I have the DVD. If you want I can bring it over sometime for Davey to watch. Or he can come to my house." There were lessons to learn in that simple Seuss classic.

Davey leaned forward, eagerly nodding.

"Looks like that's a yes." She handed Davey a napkin. "I'll loan it to you tomorrow. I loved the cartoon version when I was a kid."

"Me, too." Kade's admission was almost as good as an all-out victory. He had liked Christmas at one time.

"Christmas at our house was such fun," Sophie said, with a nostalgic smile. "Dad was one of those Santa Claus kind of fathers who made tracks outside our house and jingled bells in the middle of the night. My brother and I would go crazy with excitement."

"Sounds great."

"Yes, it was. The best Christmas we ever had, though, was when I was sixteen. We didn't exchange gifts that year. We spent Christmas Day at the church serving meals and handing out gifts to anyone who needed them." Her heart warmed with remembrance. "I experienced Jesus in a new way that year, and it's stuck with me. I learned giving really is more fulfilling."

Kade gazed at her with a bemused expression. "You must have great parents."

"I do." Or rather did. A shadow passed over the nostalgic mood. "They're divorced now."

She could almost hear his brain cranking out cynical comments. See, he was probably thinking, life really is lousy. But Sophie would never believe that. Bad things happened, but all in all, life was good and Christmas was better.

"Divorce can't erase those wonderful memories. My brother, Dad and I still talk about them."

"What about your mother?"

"She lives in Tulsa with her new family. I generally see her on Christmas Eve, but it's not the same, of course." In fact, chitchatting with Mom, Edward and his adult children was an evening to endure, not to enjoy. Her brother, Todd, hardly ever came anymore, which made things at Mom's house harder. Mom tried to include her, but Sophie was the fifth wheel, the one who didn't really belong. She'd much rather be here in Redemption with Dad and her friends.

"What was Christmas like in your family?" she asked.

He pushed aside a plate of pizza crusts. Neat little semi-circles of leftover bread lined the edges of the dish. Next to him, Davey was beginning to slow down, too.

"Two older sisters. Mom's an executive accountant and Dad's a hotshot lawyer. We had lots of presents."

"Were you the spoiled baby brother?"

His lips curved. "Something like that."

Elbow on the table, she leaned her chin on the heel of her hand, fascinated to think of Kade as a small boy. "Tell me about a typical Christmas at the McKendrick house."

He hitched a shoulder. "Open gifts, maybe go to Grandma and Grandpa's house. Hang with the cousins, play football or torment our sisters."

"I can see you doing that." Which led her right back to the same question. What soured him on Christmas? "Are you going to Chicago for the holidays?"

When Davey stared at him with interest, Kade ruffled his hair. "Don't worry, buddy. I'm not going anywhere."

Kade's gaze found hers and held. She understood. He was here until Davey's mystery was resolved. Sophie appreciated him for that. When Kade started something he finished it, and he did it with a fierce passion.

"Am I being nosy if I ask how you're related to Ida June?" Sophie asked, eager to know more about this man she couldn't get out of her head.

"Nosy? Yes." He softened the answer with twinkling eyes. "But I'll tell you. She's my grandmother's sister."

"Is your grandmother anything like Ida June?"

"If you mean does she drive backward down the street and spout quotations, no. But they are both strong, feisty ladies who can take you down with a hard look."

"You always know where you stand with Ida June."

"Grandma, too. That's why I'm here." As soon as the words leaked out, Kade shut down again. The light in his face evaporated and he shifted uncomfortably in the booth.

"You know I'm dying to ask," Sophie said.

"Long story." Kade wadded a paper napkin and tossed it on the plate. "Ready, Davey?"

Davey slid the leftover pizza and bread sticks into the takeout box and made a petting motion with one hand.

"For Sheba," Sophie interpreted. She reached for the check, but a strong hand trapped hers on the table. "My treat."

The quiet insistence warmed her. Here was a man whose pride might suffer if she said no. "Okay. Thank you."

Still, he didn't remove his hand and she began to notice the subtle differences in his skin and hers, the long length of his fingers, the leashed strength.

A flutter tickled beneath her ribs. She lifted her gaze to his.

"I should go," she said softly. Regretfully. "Practice."

"Right." He freed her hand, flexed his once before snatching up the check. "What time?"

"You're coming?" She sounded like a ten-year-old elated over a trip to Disney World.

"Davey," he said, pushing up from the padded seat. "He can go."

"I was hoping you'd reconsidered. The pageant is wonderful, Kade. I promise you'll feel more Christmas spirit if you attend." She couldn't keep the disappointment from her voice. He needed to get involved. She was sure of it.

"Not this time. Sorry."

Her optimistic spirit soared. Not this time could only mean one thing: there was still a chance, and if anyone in town needed a little Christmas spirit this year, it was Kade McKendrick and the mute child he'd taken under his wing.

Chapter Eight.

"Who spit in your sandbox?"

Kade slouched in front of the laptop, jabbing keys with enough force to jiggle the table. Ida June stood with one hand on her hip and a chocolate-chip cookie in the other.

Davey was fast asleep, exhausted from his day at school and the excitement of whatever he'd been doing with Sophie.

Ida June poked at his shoulder. "GI Jack saw you eating pizza with Sophie B. You after that girl?"

Sophie. The woman was giving him no peace. Just like his great-aunt.

"Strictly professional."

Ida June made a rude noise. "I didn't think my sister's daughter would raise such a stupid child. 'Who can find a virtuous woman? Her price is above rubies.'"

"I don't think Sophie's for sale, rubies or not. She's all about cookies."

Ida June whacked his shoulder. Cookie crumbs scattered down his shirt. "I'm gonna have to call your mama, boy."

"Tell her I love her."

"Tell her yourself." She slapped a cookie on the table beside him.

Kade closed the laptop with a snap and took up the cookie. No use trying to work with Ida June on him. He'd call his mother in his own good time, when he was ready to give her something besides bad news about her son.

"How was work on the stable?" he asked.

"Slow. I need you back out there tomorrow."

"I can give you a couple of hours." The rest of his hours, both day and night, would be focused on solving this case.

"And then?" The metal chair legs scraped against linoleum as Ida June perched across from him. She stacked three more fat cookies in front of her. "You got any leads on our little guest?"

He sighed in frustration. "None."

"You will. It's early yet."

Much as he appreciated her confidence, he wasn't so sure. "It's as if he fell from the sky."

"Well, maybe he did." She pointed half a cookie at him. Melted chocolate oozed out in a thick glob. "Miracles happened at Christmas."

Kade squinted at her. "You been in the eggnog, Auntie?"

Ida June slapped the table and cackled. "Life is sure perky since you moved in."

"Yeah, I'm a barrel of entertainment."

"You'll be happier when you get involved."

His great-aunt was pushier than his shrink-a shrink he hadn't called since Davey entered his life. He hoped the agency didn't send out the guys in white jackets to see if he'd offed himself.

There was no use denying his unhappiness to Ida June. She was in on the conspiracy to get him out of Chicago, though like his family, she didn't know the complete story. Even his supervisors had only part of the picture. Fine with him. If he let his mind go there, to what he'd seen and done in the name of justice, he'd be a dead man.

For a while he had been. Then a blue-eyed boy with no voice had given him a reason to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Sometimes the voices in his head said he was trying to make amends, but he knew he couldn't. Not ever.

"I am involved." When Ida June lifted an eyebrow, he went on. "With Davey. He matters." The words sounded angry.

"No argument from me. But he's a child and children need Christmas." His aunt patted the back of his hand with her leathery fingers and rose to rummage around in the kitchen cabinet. "Wherever he came from, whether good or bad, Davey has to be full of heartache. If he's lost from his family, he misses them terribly. If something else-" she paused, drew a breath, the wrinkles in her white forehead gathering in concern "-well, all the more reason for him to grieve."

Kade leaned back in the chair to study his aunt. She was eccentric but also wise. "What are you saying?"