"As you said: She's something else. If she gets her way, St. T's will grow garlic till kingdom come."

Tom shrugged. "That's what she wants, all right, but she doesn't have any leverage."

"Maybe more than you give her credit for," I said unguardedly, thinking about the deed restrictions.

"Oh, yeah?" Tom's look sharpened. "What kind of leverage could she have?"

I shouldn't have opened my big mouth. The old deed was Sadie's trump card, not mine, and she ought to decide

when to play it. Also, I was beginning to wonder about Tom's curiosity. But of course, where property and money are concerned, banks are always curious. And never neutral, I reminded myself. Tom would side with the player who controlled the dollars. He wouldn't have any choice.

I changed the subject. "Tell me about the Townsends," I said.

"Carl and Rena?"

"And the boys."

He shrugged. "You probably know the type-high rollers in a closed game. Carl's a loan shark who trades in favors. He'll do one for you and charge you three. Rena is a political power broker in county politics. The oldest boy, Royce, is a doctor-not the best in the world, actually. There have been several complaints at the local hospital, and I hear another doctor is opening a new practice next month. But Royce has also gotten himself elected justice of the peace, so he's in on almost everything that happens in his precinct, which includes the town of Carr. There's another son, Byron. He used to practice law. Now he's a county judge."

"That's a lot of power to be tied up in one family."

"It's not unusual in a rural area. It would probably be a good idea for you to stay clear of them." Before I could respond, his tone lightened and he circled my shoulders with his arm, pulling me against him. I knew I should pull away, but it felt familiar, comfortable. "So, old friend. What's your personal life like?"

"The shop keeps me pretty busy."

"Any boyfriends?"

Boyfriend? Not the word I'd used to describe my relationship with McQuaid. "One."

"Just one?" He looked down at me, his face inches away. "It's serious, then?"

"We've been dating for several years." Why was I so reluctant to talk about McQuaid? Maybe it was because he was part of my life back there, and I was here-here to get

away from there. "We've been living together since last May."

"Why aren't you married?" he asked bluntly.

Why? It's a question McQuaid asks from time to time, more often now that we're living together. Maybe it's because personal independence is a high priority with me, higher than family values. Maybe it's because I'm still learning who I am and what I want out of life. How many reasons do you need for not being married?

Tom dropped his arm and got to his feet. "Maybe you haven't found the right guy," he said. He grinned and held out a hand to help me up. "Or maybe you found him and let him get away, say, eight or nine years ago."

I couldn't help laughing. "Modest, aren't we? You haven't changed, either, you know. Still the same arrogant SOB."

He slung the bag over his left shoulder and hooked his right arm through mine. He glanced down at me, his eyes reminding me of past intimacies. "Are you happy, China?"

I thought of the long hours at the shop and the pressures of living with McQuaid and Brian. And of the quiet pleasure of being alone in Jeremiah with no demands to meet, no obligations to fulfill-once I had settled the business of the letters. "I don't know," I said. "That's part of why I'm here, I guess. To figure it out." We were walking slowly in the direction of the path and the downhill climb. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Are you happy?"

He laughed shortly. "Happy? Hell, no. There's too much up in the air. Dad's cancer, personal finances, things at the bank that need to be changed but can't as long as he's in the picture. My life has been on hold for the last couple of years."

Personal finances. I wondered what that was about. "Any girlfriends?"

"Since you?" He chuckled. "Come on, China. Who could possibly replace you?"

"Be serious," I said. "You haven't been twiddling your thumbs and hoping you and I would stumble across one another and fall wildly in love again."

He dropped my arm and took my hand instead. "I was married for a couple of years. A woman named Janie."

"Past tense?"

He nodded.

"What happened?"

"It didn't work."

"Why not?"

"Like us, sort of." He shrugged. "There was a lot of competition from our careers. Janie was-still is-a TV anchor woman for Channel 6, very sexy, very beautiful, very busy. After the flame died down, we didn't have a lot in common. Unfortunately, the divorce was messy."

Messy? I wondered if it was the "messy business" Mother had mentioned. He fell silent for a minute, while I debated whether to ask him if the failure of his marriage was one of the things that had brought him back to Carr.

"That bit about our falling wildly in love again," he said, interrupting my thoughts. "It's not outside the realm of possibility."

"Yes, it is," I said. "I'm committed."

He grinned. ' 'You are?'' The question just missed being a challenge.

I tried to pull my hand away, but he was holding it tightly. He drew me against him. "We'll just see about that," he murmured, and kissed me hard, long.

The kiss fanned a spark of body-memory I had thought was long extinguished. I pushed him away. "I need to go," I said. "I have to talk to Mother Winifred before supper."

"You haven't changed a bit, have you," he said, and grinned.

I caught Mother Winifred in her herb garden at twilight, a half hour before the supper bell. She was trimming the lower branches from a young chaste tree, its trunk still pale gray, unfurrowed.

"Did you know that the seeds of this tree used to be used to fend off temptation?'' she asked, holding out a bundle of reddish brown twigs. ' 'People called it the Tree of Chastity."

I thought of Tom's kiss. "Maybe we could use a little of it these days." I told her what I had learned from J. R. Nutall, and what I had concluded about Dwight's guilt. "The case is entirely circumstantial," I added, "which means that the county attorney probably won't prosecute."

"Well, then, what do you suggest?" she asked.

"I think we should let things ride for tonight," I said. "Tomorrow morning, I'll drive into town and talk with Deputy Walters. Is there a car I can borrow?"

Mother pulled down one of the slender branches and clipped it. "We have two cars, but I'm afraid that both are in use. Sister Rowena has one, and Sister Olivia the other. Dwight drives our GMC, of course-he's taken it to town this evening. But there is another truck you can use. It may be past its prime, but it works fine."

"Thanks," I said. I could drive over to Sadie Marsh's ranch as well, and tomorrow evening, drive into town for dinner with Tom and his dad. "Since Dwight's an ex-felon, his prints are on file. If they match any prints on the cigarette pack or the cartridge case, the deputy and the county attorney will decide whether there's enough to make an assault charge stick. They may decide not to arrest him at all."

Mother piled the clipped branches together. "In which case I'll simply discharge him." She smiled. "It will be an enormous relief to stop worrying about the place burning down around our ears." She picked up her pruning shears. "If you can only resolve the other matter as handily, all my prayers will have been answered."

"I'm afraid it's not going to be quite so simple, Mother." We turned to walk toward the cottage. "I'll know more after I've talked to Olivia and John Roberta, though."

Mother glanced up at me. "That may take a while, my dear."

"Why?"

She paused to replace a rock that had been jostled out of the border and onto the path. ' 'Because neither of them are here. John Roberta suffers from asdima, you see, and she had an attack after Mass this morning. Her inhalator couldn't be found, and she was getting worse, so Rowena drove her to the Carr County Hospital for treatment. She'll be there at least another day, perhaps more. Dr. Townsend apparently wants to do some tests."