Twins On The Doorstep. Marie Ferrarella

wrestled with an overwhelming desire to ask the woman in the back seat just that. It would explain why she’d left town so abruptly. But he knew asking her was pointless. He knew her. She wouldn’t answer him. In all likelihood, she’d just walk out on him the way she had the last time.

      And, angry as he was about her leaving him, he didn’t want that happening again. Not until he’d had a chance to talk with her—really talk.

      Desperate for something to say, he fell back on what Miss Joan had said when she’d first greeted Stacy.

      “I’m sorry to hear about your Aunt Kate,” he told her. “What happened?”

      “She died,” Stacy said stoically.

      Why are you acting as if you care? We both know you don’t. You don’t care anything about me or about Aunt Kate, so stop pretending.

      “I realize that,” he said, doing his best to be patient. “That’s why I said I was sorry to hear about her.” Getting his temper under control, he asked, “Did it happen while you were in Europe?”

      She looked out the window on her left. “Yes.”

      He felt pity stirring within him. “That must have been awful for you, having her die and having no one to turn to.”

      She blew out a breath. She didn’t want his sympathy. She didn’t want anything from him. Still looking out the side window, she said, “I managed.”

      “We’re here,” he announced, and just like that, the topic was closed.

      For now.