In the tiny kitchen area, they bumped elbows at the sink. Collin didn't usually enjoy company that much, but over the weeks and months he'd known Mia, she'd become a part of his life. Sometimes an annoying part, but if he was honest, even when they disagreed he depended upon her to see through his anger to the frustration and still be his friend.

He'd never expected to call a social worker "friend."

At times, he could be brooding and moody, and admittedly, he wore a protective armor around his heart. Trouble was, Miss Mia had slipped beneath it at some point and discovered the softer side of him. The idea unhinged him.

"Thanksgiving's coming soon," she said, her voice coming from above a sink of soapy hot water. "We always have a big to-do at Mama's. Turkey, dressing, pecan pie. The works. The Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade on TV and then a veritable marathon of football games afterward."

He knew what was coming and didn't know what to do. Nic's birthday party had stirred up something inside him, a hunger for the things missing in his own life, and he wasn't sure he could go there again.

Mia rinsed a plate under the hot tap. As he reached to take the dish, she held on, forcing him to look down at her.

Green eyes, honey-sweet and honest, held his. "We'd love for you to come. Please say you will."

Steam rose up between them, moist and warm. Her eyes, her tone indicated more than an invitation of kindness to a man who had nowhere else to go. She really wanted him there.

Like most holidays, Thanksgiving was a family occasion. The time or two he'd accepted an invitation, he'd felt like an intruder. "I usually volunteer to work so the officers with families can be off that day."

"Then I'd say you're due a day off this year. Wouldn't you?"

"I'd better not."

Disappointment flashed across her face. Unlike him, she could never hide her feelings. They were there for the whole world to see. And what he saw both troubled and pleased him. Mia liked him. As more than a friend.

She let go of the plate and went back to washing. The air in the kitchen hung heavy with his refusal and her reaction. He didn't want to hurt her. In fact, he couldn't believe she was disappointed. Couldn't believe she'd be interested in him. He didn't belong with her all-American perfect family.

Mia, true to form, rushed in to the fill the quiet, and if he hadn't known better, her chatter would have convinced him that she didn't really care one way or the other. But now he knew her chatter sometimes covered her unease.

Then she mentioned some guy she'd met during the 10-K charity walk last weekend, and his mood turned from thoughtful to sour. If she was attracted to him, why was she having Starbucks with some runner?

He interrupted. "Wonder what's keeping Mitchell?"

Mia stopped in mid-sentence and gave him a funny look. "He hasn't been gone that long."

"Long enough." He tossed his dish towel over the back of a chair that served as a towel rack, coat rack, whatever.

The water gurgled out of the sink. Mia dried her hands. "If you'll stop scowling, I'll go check. I need to get something out of my car anyway."

"I can go. He's my responsibility."

"Mine, too. You stay here and slice the cake. I have a book in the car for you."

"A Bible?" he asked suspiciously.

Tossing on her sweater, she laughed and opened the door. "You'll see."

Halfway out, she stopped and looked over her shoulder. "I want coffee with my cake."

The door banged shut and Collin found himself grinning into the empty space. Tonight Mia had made this half-finished, scantily furnished, poor excuse for a house feel like a home.

He turned that thought over in his head and went to make the lady's coffee.

Four scoops into the pot, a scream shattered the quiet. Coffee grounds went everywhere. His heart stopped.

"Mia."

He was out the door, running toward the barn before he realized the previously dark sky was lit with bright light. Fire light.

"Mitchell!"

He heard Mia's cry once more and this time he spotted her, running toward the burning barn. Before he could yell for her to stop, to turn back, she disappeared inside.

Collin thought he would die on the spot. Adrenaline ripped through his veins with enough force to knock him down. He broke into a run, pounding over the hard, dry ground.

Flames licked the sky. Sparks shot fifty feet up, fueled by the still wind. The horses screamed in terror. Dogs barked and howled. Several had managed to escape somehow and now scrambled toward him. A kitten streaked past, her fur smoking.

A horrible sense of doom slammed into him, overwhelming. Mia and Mitchell were inside a burning barn along with more than a dozen helpless, trapped, sick and injured animals.

He darted toward the outside water faucet, thankful for the burlap feed sack wrapped around the pipes to prevent freezing. Yanking the sack free, he dipped the rough cloth into the freshly filled trough then rushed into the barn just as Mitchell came stumbling out.

Collin caught him by the shoulders. "Where's Mia?"

Mitchell shook his head, coughing. "I don't know."

With no time to waste, he shoved Mitchell out into the fresh air. "Call 911."

He could only hope the boy obeyed.

And then he charged into the burning building.

Smoke, thick and blinding, wrapped him in a terrifying embrace.

"Mia!" he yelled as he slung the wet sack around his face and head.

Eyes streaming, lungs screaming, he traversed the interior by instinct, throwing open stalls and pens as he called out, over and over again. The animals would at least have a chance this way. Locked in, they would surely die.

He stumbled over something soft and pitched forward, slamming his elbow painfully into a wall. A familiar whine greeted him. When he reached down, the dog licked his hand. Happy.

With more joy than he had time to feel, he scooped the little dog up and headed him in the direction of the open doorway. Even a crippled dog would instinctively move toward the fresh air.

A timber above his head cracked. Honed reflexes moved him to one side as the flaming board thundered to the barn floor. If he stayed too long, he'd never make it out.

Another board fell behind him and then another. Common sense said for him to escape now. His heart wouldn't let him.

"Mia." His voice, hoarse and raspy, made barely a sound against the roaring, crackling fire. Heat seared the back of his hands. His head swam.

If something happened to her. If something happened to Mia.

Suddenly, he heard her coughing. And praying.

Renewed energy propelled him forward.

"I'm coming."

Keep praying, Mia, so I can find you.

With his free hand, he felt along the corridor wall. No longer could he hear animal sounds, but Mia's prayers grew louder.

In the dense darkness he never saw her, but he heard her and reached out, made contact. She frantically clawed at his arm.

"I've got you."

"Thank God. Thank God." A fit of harsh coughing wracked her. "Mitch," she managed.

"He's safe."

Without a thought, Collin stripped the covering from his face and pressed the rough fabric against Mia's mouth and nose. Her breath puffed hot and dry against his fingers.

"This way."

With his knowledge of the barn, he guided them away from the falling center toward the feed room. There, a small window would provide escape.

Though the seconds seemed to drag, Collin knew by the size of the fire that they'd been inside only a few minutes. Thankfully, the flames had not reached this section of the barn yet, but they were fast approaching.

"Hurry," he said needlessly, pushing and pulling her stumbling form.

Inside the feed room, he felt for the window, shoved the sash upward, then easily lifted Mia over the threshold and to safety on the ground.

A roar erupted behind him. The flames, as if enraged by Mia's escape, chased him. Licking along the wall, they found the empty paper sacks and swooshed into the room.

Collin scrambled up and out the window, falling to the ground below. What little air he had left was knocked out in the fall.

Mia grabbed his hand and tugged. "Get up. We have to get away."

Hands clasped, they stumbled around the side of the barn to an area several yards out from the flames. Mia fell to her knees, noisily sucking in the fresh air.

Collin went down beside her, filling his lungs with the sweet, precious oxygen.

"You okay?" he asked when he could breathe again.

"Fine."

But he couldn't take her word for it. By the flickering light of the fire that had nearly stolen her, he searched her face for signs of injury and found none.

"If anything had happened to you-"

And then before his reasonable side could stop him, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

She tasted smoky and sweet and wonderful. Emotion as foreign as an elephant and every bit as powerful coursed through him. His world tilted, spun, shimmered with warning.

He pulled back, suddenly afraid of what was happening to him. It was only a kiss, wasn't it? Given out of fear and relief. That was all. Only a kiss.

But he knew better. He'd kissed other women before, but not like this. The others he'd kept at a distance, outside of the armor. Mia was different. Way different.

And the truth of that scared him more than the barn fire.

Chapter Ten.

"Here Mitch, take this end down to Adam."

Mia stood in the yard of her parents' home surrounded by large plastic containers filled with Christmas lights and decorations. Twined around her shoulders and across her arms was a tangled strand of frosty icicle lights. Adam worked at the opposite end of the fence attaching the strands as she unraveled them.

The other Caranos were scattered about in the yard and over the exterior of the house in similar activity. Each year on a given Saturday, Rosalie commandeered all available family members to set up outside Christmas decorations while the weather was decent. Today was the day.

Mitch, eager for a promised turkey hunt with Mia's dad, was trying to hurry the process.

"Why are you putting up Christmas lights so early? We haven't even had Thanksgiving yet."

He took the proffered end of the lights and trudged toward Adam.

Mia squinted at him, the November sun bright, the wind light but sharp. "That's the whole point. At the Caranos, turning the lights on for the first time on Thanksgiving night is a big deal. You are still coming, aren't you?"

One narrow shoulder jerked. "I guess. Nothing else to do."

Mia recognized Mitch's unique method of saving face. Holidays at his house, from what he'd told her and from what she'd seen, were not festive occasions. And from the latest information Collin had shared, Mia was more concerned than ever. Life at the Perez house grew more troubled with each passing week, and Mitchell spent most of his time on the streets, or with her or her mother and dad to avoid going home. His was a worrisome situation indeed, especially with the added tension between Collin and Mitch since the fire.

"Sure he's coming," Adam hollered. "We're going to finish that computer chess tournament, and I'm going to beat the socks off him."

Mitch handed him the light cord and grinned. "Wanna bet?"

"If I win, you have to wash my car inside and out."

"When I win, I get to wear your OU jersey to school."

"No betting around here, boys," Rosalie called from her spot on the front porch. She was winding greenery around the columns.

"Yes, ma'am," Adam replied, his swarthy face wreathed in ornery laughter. He loved to get Mama riled up.

"Yes, ma'am," Mitchell echoed, grinning at Adam.

Mia's dad came around the corner of the house, carrying the last of the nativity pieces that would grace their front yard. "As soon as I put this with the others, I'm going out to Collin's place."

Mia looked up in surprise, her pulse doing the usual flip-flop at Collin's name. "What for?"