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“Don’t be such a stickler for details, that’s only a technicality. Besides, how will it look, you turning your own aged grandmother away when you’re willing to work for those thieving oil company scoundrels?”

“That’s unfair. A court declared that Odessa Oil didn’t steal from anyone.”

“Try telling that to those poor pensioners your filthy rich client left without insurance.”

“I’m not going to argue the case with you, Gram,” Raine huffed on a frustrated breath. “Besides, since when did you care what people think?”

“I don’t. But I have to admit that I wasn’t real thrilled to turn on the television and see my own flesh and blood turn traitor to an entire class of senior citizens.”

The muscles in the back of Raine’s neck knotted and the familiar iron band around her forehead tightened. “The case was open and shut. Those retirees who’d filed suit didn’t have a legal leg to stand on.”

“How about a moral leg?”

“I’m not paid to be Mother Teresa. I’m a litigator. I get paid a great deal of money to fight my clients’ battles.”

Which left her living in the most adversarial environment possible, Raine thought, but did not say. While the battle eventually ended for a client, she moved from case to case, remaining in a constant state of conflict.

“Ha.” Ida speared her with still-bright dark eyes that reminded Raine of a curious magpie. “As Orson Welles said in
Citizen Kane
, “It’s not difficult to make a lot of money, if money is all you want.”

Despite her rising frustration, it crossed Raine’s mind that this was undoubtedly one of the few times Ida had actually gotten a quote right. Unfortunately, she’d tossed it into the argument like a verbal grenade.

“It’s not just the money, Gram. I like my job. I love it,” she claimed with a bit more force than necessary.

“Does it make you happy?”

“Happy?” Raine was momentarily stumped. Having achieved a level of success that most young attorneys could only dream of, she was certainly
supposed
to be happy. Wasn’t she?

“Of course I’m happy,” she answered briskly. “But we shouldn’t be wasting time talking about me. Since you’re the one with the guardianship hearing scheduled for tomorrow morning.”

“So you
are
taking my case?”

Feeling as if she was juggling flaming torches while walking a tightrope blindfolded, Raine ignored the escalating headache and prepared for the argument her grandmother was bound to launch. “It’s not that simple. Now, I don’t want you to fly off the handle—”

“When have I ever done that?”

“Well, there have been a few occasions—”

“Don’t be foolish.” The elderly woman broke in again. “I’ve always been the epitome of gracious manners. Ask anyone in Coldwater Cove.”

There was no way Raine was going to touch that outrageous assertion. The truth was, her grandmother had a knack for stirring up more than her share of hornet’s nests. A firebrand Ida Lindstrom had been born, and a firebrand she’d obviously die.

“How old are you?” Raine asked suddenly.

“What the dickens does my age have to do with the price of tin in China?”

“It’s tea.”

“What?”

“It’s tea in China. Not tin.”

“Really?” Ida frowned. “They don’t have tin in China?”

“I’m sure they must.” Raine wished she hadn’t allowed herself to get off track. “I was referring to the old adage. Which mentions tea. And to get back to your question, the court may well feel that your age has a great deal to do with your ability to care for three troublesome teenage girls.”

“Pooh,” Ida scoffed. “They’re not at all troublesome. In fact, they’ve been a marvelous help around the house. And it’s nice to have some companionship. It’s no fun being alone. Especially at my age.”

Raine was not going to let Ida make her feel guilty about not returning home to Coldwater Cove after graduating from law school. “You’re not exactly alone. Lilith’s back home again.”

“I love my daughter dearly. But believe me, having Lilith living under my roof is not exactly all that peaceful.”

Since there was no way Raine could argue with that, she didn’t even try. “What’s she doing home again anyway?”

“Finding herself. At least that’s how she explained it when she showed up on the doorstep without any warning last month. If you want to know the truth, I believe it has more to do with the fact that she nearly lost her shirt in some business down in Arizona. The way she tells it, she was getting tired of her singing life on the road, so she went into business with a friend conducting vortex tours. But the woman turned out not to be much of a friend, since she embezzled most of their assets.”

“Surely Lilith filed charges.”

“Actually she didn’t. You know your mother. She believes that insisting on retribution causes bad karma and the embezzler will have to work toward redemption in her next life.”

“We can only hope,” Raine said dryly. “Now, getting back to your case, I really can’t legally represent you. But I suppose there’s nothing to prevent me from addressing the court as your granddaughter.”

“Who just happens to be a hotshot lawyer. Even if you do sometimes lack judgment when choosing your clients.” The bird’s nest atop her head wobbled and threatened to tip over as Ida nodded with obvious satisfaction. “That should clinch a win for our side.”

“I’m still not certain it’s for the best.”

“Gwen’s a good girl, Raine. She deserves a chance to prove it.”

“Not if the stress of dealing with a delinquent teenager puts your health at risk.”

“I’m as healthy as a mule.”

And as stubborn as one, Raine thought. “You nearly fainted yesterday.”

“I was merely lightheaded for a moment.”

Raine gave her grandmother another long, judicial perusal. She seemed so much smaller, so much more birdlike, than Raine remembered from her last trip home. Almost frail. Yet the determination in those intense dark eyes was, indeed, that of a woman at least half her age.

“You never did tell me how old you were.”

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s not polite to ask a lady her age?”

“You’re not a
lady
. You’re my client. Sort of,” Raine qualified yet again. “So, how about it? I should know, in case the presiding judge brings it up.”

“Let’s just put it this way, darling…if you were counting in dog years, I’d probably be dead.”

It was Raine’s turn to fold her arms. “That’s no answer. If you want me to represent you, you’re going to have to do everything I say.”

“Absolutely,” Ida said with a conviction Raine didn’t believe for a moment.

“So, for starters, once more, how about telling me how old you are?” Ida wasn’t the only stubborn female in the family.

Her grandmother rubbed her chin, drawing Raine’s attention to her hands. Once they’d been long and slender and strong, capable of delivering hundreds of Coldwater Cove’s babies. Now the knuckles were swollen with arthritis, proving, Raine thought sadly, that life didn’t stand still just because you might want it to.

“That’s a bit hard to say,” the elderly woman said slyly. “Since I seem to forget more often these days.”

“Terrific. I’ll simply claim early Alzheimer’s. That should definitely gain you custody.”

“Well,” Ida huffed at Raine’s sarcasm, “I see you still have a smart mouth.”

“I suppose I do. But I also happen to be proud of it. Since I inherited it from my grandmother, whom I love and admire more than anyone I’ve ever known.”

Ida’s bright eyes glistened at Raine’s assertion. “Now you’ve done it.” She pressed a finger beneath her eye to catch the single tear that had escaped beneath sparse lower lashes. “Gone and made me choke up.”

“Too bad. Because I
do
love you, which is why I’m still not certain that those girls staying with you is a good idea.”

“I’m not letting them go without a fight, Raine. No matter how much you try to soft-soap me.”

“I wasn’t trying—”

“Of course you were.” Ida cackled with obvious satisfaction. “You’re right about being a warrior, Raine. Maybe even more than me, which is saying something. And I know you’ll use any weapon in your arsenal it takes to win. Which is why I need you standing up for me in that courtroom. I may be old, but I’m no fool. Without you, we’d be up a creek without a paddlewheel. But I know you can make the judge see the light at the end of the tunnel.”

Raine sighed. It was emotional blackmail, pure and simple. “Talking about using weapons—”

“I’ll use whatever it takes,” Ida vowed.

“I can’t promise anything.” Knowing the futility of arguing any further, Raine threw in the towel. “But I’ll do my best.”

“That’s all I’ve ever expected, dear.” That little matter taken care of, she slid off the bed and pulled on a pair of beaded moccasins that looked nearly as old as she was.

“And for the record,” Ida said as they walked out of the room, “I don’t have Alzheimer’s. In fact, my mind is as tarp as a shack.”

Terrific
. Raine groaned inwardly and wondered how, exactly, she was going to keep her grandmother from testifying. Although everyone who knew her could attest that Ida Lindstrom had been the queen of malapropisms long before her hair had turned gray, a judge might just take a different view.

“S
o,” Ida said as they were driving along the winding evergreen-lined road back to the house. “Have you spoken with your mother this morning?”

“She was still asleep when I left the house.”

“I’m not surprised. After last night’s antics.”

Raine shot her a surprised look. “You know about that?”

“Coldwater Cove is a small town. A story as juicy as that one is bound to get around pretty fast. So, is it true what they’re saying about Cooper?”

“What are they saying?”

“That he’s as hooked on the girl as he ever was?”

“I wouldn’t know about that. But there was definitely something there. Some spark.” Hot enough to set the entire forest ablaze, Raine thought but did not say.

“Interesting.” The shaggy green trees shot by the window as Ida thought about that. “He was always good for her. The boy had a quieting effect on your mother that none of the rest of us could manage.”

“She didn’t seem very quieted last night.” And nothing about Cooper Ryan had been at all boylike. He’d practically radiated testosterone.

“We can always hope,” Ida said. “It would be nice to see Lilith settle down with a good man like Cooper Ryan.”

Since she personally thought that about as likely to happen as her mother sprouting gossamer wings and flying to the moon, Raine merely murmured something that could have been an agreement.

After they returned home, Raine called a meeting. When Ida started to come into the sunroom along with them, Raine insisted she wanted to speak with the girls alone.

“It’s my hearing, too,” the elderly woman grumbled.

“True. But I don’t want you coaching the girls on what to say. The worst thing that could happen for our case would be for them to get caught lying on the witness stand.”

Ida stiffened her back, pulling herself up to her full four feet, eleven inches. “It’s a fine kettle of cossacks when a woman’s own granddaughter accuses her of advising children to tell falsehoods in a court of law.”

“I was merely suggesting that you’d encourage them to be creative in their answers. I thought we agreed that if I was going to represent you, I’d be the one calling the shots.”

“You really are a hard woman, Raine Cantrell.”

“I’m also a damn good attorney.”

They stared at each other for a long, drawn-out minute, both women aware that this was a deciding moment in not only the case, but their future relationship.

“I’ve got some laundry to do,” Ida muttered finally. “Best get to it.” Thus conceding defeat, she marched out of the kitchen.

Raine sighed. Mission accomplished, but at what cost? She knew that Ida was accustomed to ruling the roost. She also felt a bit guilty in forcing an old woman, especially one she loved, to back down that way. Reminding herself that the ends justified the means, especially when dealing with courtroom battles, Raine put her personal concerns aside.

The sunroom, on the first floor of the tower, looked a bit like a gazebo that had been glassed in. The pine plank floors had been painted a bright summer-sky blue and a profusion of bluebells, daylilies, and peonies bloomed on the cushions of the white wicker chairs and sofa. Clay pots filled with multicolor displays of ruffled tulips, trumpet-shaped daffodils, narcissus, and hyacinths had been placed about the room. The colorful blooms perfumed the air.

“All right,” she said, “the first thing I’m going to need to present your case is a bit of background. I realize it might not be easy to talk about, and if you’d like to have these conversations one at a time—”

“No,” Shawna broke in. “We don’t have any secrets from one another. Like Mama Ida always says, we’re all family.”

Raine experienced a little tinge of jealousy at the idea of her grandmother considering these strangers to be members of her family. She tamped it down. What kind of person could be jealous of three homeless children?

She turned to the others. “Gwen, Renee, do you agree with this?”

Both girls nodded.

“All right, then.” Raine sat down in the wicker rocker, her yellow legal pad on her lap, pen poised. “Shawna, let’s begin with you. How long have you been in the juvenile justice system?”

“Mama and Daddy died last September. So, that’d make it almost nine months. I was never in trouble before that party, but since we didn’t have any relatives to take us in, we just got turned over to county.”

“But you do have an aunt.”

“She and my mama hadn’t talked to each other for a lot of years. They’d had a fight back after Renee was born, then Aunt Jean got married to some guy in the navy and started traveling all over. She says she wrote to Mama last fall, and again at Christmas, but the post office sent the letters back, since we weren’t living at that address anymore. Then, when her husband got reassigned back here to Washington, she decided to look Mama up and set things straight.” She sighed and her lips turned down in a frown. “But it was too late. When she found out Mama and Daddy were dead, she petitioned for custody. We were all set to move in with her next week. Until the ruckus.”

“I see.”

“Do you think the judge will stop us from going to live with Auntie Jean now?” Renee asked in a trembling voice.

“No. I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” Raine reassured the thirteen-year-old. “Considering the mitigating circumstances.” She turned to Gwen. “How about you?”

“I’m pregnant.”

“Unfortunately, lots of girls get pregnant, but they don’t end up in the juvenile system.”

“Okay. I’m pregnant and I shoplift.”

Raine made a note on her pad. “Is that all?”

“Isn’t that enough?”

“I don’t know. I suppose it depends on what you’ve shoplifted. And how often.”

“A bunch of stuff. A lot of times.” The teenager thrust out her chin, challenging Raine.

“You sound almost proud of that.”

“I’m not proud. It’s just the facts. You asked what got me put in juvie. Well, there’s your answer.”

And not exactly an encouraging one, either, Raine considered. “When was the last time you were caught?”

“About five months ago.”

“Before you came to live with Ida?”

“Yeah.”

“So, are you saying you haven’t shoplifted since you arrived here?”

“I wouldn’t dare. Mama Ida’d probably take a switch to me.”

“I’m not certain switching is exactly my grandmother’s style,” Raine said. “But I do agree that she can be a strict disciplinarian.”

“She’s the only person who ever cared about me enough to get on my case for my own good. Most of the other places I’ve lived, the folks just tended to knock me around for no reason. Or because they got off on it.”

Hearing this had Raine feeling even more guilty about her random flash of jealousy. “How many places have you lived? And were these foster homes?”

“Yeah. And there’ve been too many to count. I landed in my first home when I was still a baby and my mama got arrested for dealing pot. After she did her time, she got me back. Then she landed back in jail for prostitution. And after that, she was in rehab, but she’s never stayed straight. I guess I’ve been in foster care most of my life.”

Sixteen years. The idea was abominable. “I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Gwen said. “Besides, some of them weren’t so bad. And a couple were even pretty nice. But none of them ever made me feel like I belonged to a real family.”

“Until here.”

“Until Mama Ida,” the girl confirmed.

A thought occurred to Raine. “These episodes of shoplifting wouldn’t happen to be whenever you were about to be moved again, would they?”

“Mama Ida’s right. You’re real smart.” The tinge of acid in Gwen’s tone kept Raine from taking the remark as a compliment.

“So, I’m right?”

“Yeah. So what now, you gonna send me to a shrink?”

“That’s not my place.” Raine wondered if Gwen had ever received counseling.

“Yeah,” she said when Raine asked her. “When I was a kid. The guy said I was acting out because of separation anxiety.” She folded her arms over her stomach in an unconscious gesture of self-protection and directed her gaze out the wall of glass toward the rolling emerald lawn and beyond that, Admiralty Bay. In her bright green trapeze top and capri pants Raine thought she looked a bit like a pregnant Laura Petrie today. “Big deal.”

“It would be to me, if I hadn’t had a place to call my own. A place I’d feel safe,” Raine said calmly. “Actually, I admire you for handling things as well as you have. Shoplifting, as serious as it is, is a very minor offense considering some of the trouble you could have gotten into.”

Raine couldn’t help comparing the young girl’s upbringing with her own. Although her mother had been anything but reliable, at least whenever her life had become too unstable, Lilith had always shipped her daughters back to Ida, who provided not only the necessary shelter, but a haven.

As her eyes drifted to the driveway, a distant memory flashed back, as clear as if it had happened yesterday. Raine recalled the creak of the stairs in the predawn silence, the squeak of the kitchen door, the crunch of gravel underfoot. Looking out her bedroom window, she’d seen her mother walking toward her car, suitcase in hand.

Raine remembered tearing down the stairs and running out of the house in her nightgown, begging her mother, who’d gotten a tour gig opening for The Grateful Dead, not to leave. The commotion roused Ida, who came downstairs, then held a hysterical Raine tight as her mother drove away.

A shadow moved across Raine’s heart, like a cloud moving in front of the sun. She shook off the sudden chill and dragged her mind back to the problem at hand.

“All right, I think we can finesse the shoplifting,” she decided. “Especially since the psychologist’s report should already be in your file. Do you have any plans for the future?”

“I always wanted to be a doctor. Like Mama Ida.” The sixteen-year-old dropped her gaze to her hands, which rested on the shelf of her stomach. She was squeezing them together so tightly the knuckles had turned white. “But I guess now, with the baby and all…” Her voice drifted off, her shoulders drooped.

“So you’re going to try to keep the baby?” Raine asked carefully.

“I don’t know.” Gwen sighed. “At first I was going to get an abortion, because that’s what the guy who knocked me up wanted, so he borrowed the money from his cousin and we went to this clinic in Seattle where nobody knew us. Since I was pretty nervous, I wanted Randy—he was my boyfriend—to stay with me, but he doesn’t like blood and gore and yucky stuff. He won’t even watch
ER
. So, he waited at the Denny’s next door.”

“Creep,” Shawna muttered.

“Yeah, well, I knew it wouldn’t do any good to argue with him, so I just, you know, filled out the forms. Then the nurse took me into this cubicle, and told me to take off all my clothes and put on this paper gown, and someone would come get me when it was time.

“I sat on the bench and tried to read a magazine someone had left behind, but I couldn’t concentrate. The curtain was still closed, but I could sorta see through the cracks, and every so often they’d call out a name and I’d see a girl going by my cubicle, and I’d wonder about her story. How she ended up there.

“Which got me thinking about my boyfriend. I hadn’t wanted to go all the way in the first place. I kept telling him that I wasn’t ready, but then one night he told me that I couldn’t expect him to be satisfied just making out. That if I really loved him, I’d show him. By having sex with him. So I did. So I wouldn’t lose him, you know?”

“I can understand why you might feel that way,” Raine said mildly. “But if he truly cared for you, he wouldn’t have given you that ultimatum.”

“I sorta figured that out while I was sitting there. I mean here I was, dressed in this stupid blue paper gown, waiting to have my baby sucked out of me, and he was next door eatin’ his way through a Grand Slam breakfast. It was like he got all the fun and I was stuck with the trouble.”

“I’d say that’s a fairly accurate assessment of the situation.”

“So I was already thinking that maybe this was a mistake. But then the nurse called my name, and I told myself it was too late. That my boyfriend had already paid the money, so I’d have to go through with it.”

Since the girl obviously hadn’t gotten an abortion, Raine remained silent and waited for the end of the story.

“But then I walked into this room that was like something from
The X-Files
. The only furniture was a chair and a table with stirrups. And beside the table was a tray with all sorts of instruments that looked like stuff from some torture chamber.”

Her eyes welled up. “I looked at all that stuff and just freaked. Then ran out of the room, back to my cubicle, threw on my clothes and got out of that place.”

When the tears that had been threatening spilled, the teenager scrubbed them away with the back of her hands, reminding Raine more of a little girl who’d just had her bright red birthday balloon burst on her than a young woman who was weeks away from becoming a mother.

She drew in a deep, gulping breath. “I threw up on the sidewalk outside. My boyfriend saw me out the window and he got really mad and told me that if I was gonna have the baby, I was going to do it by myself.”