"Neither does Matthew," Miss Barnett said and glared up at him. "This is Brad's younger brother, Matt." She shooed him. "Go… do something useful."

"I could test the turkey," Matt said helpfully. He shot Jenna an engaging grin that had her smiling back. "We wouldn't want to serve an underdone turkey. Family might get worms."

Jenna coughed, trying to hold back a laugh.

"It's done, Matthew," Miss Barnett said, her tone lowering. "The button popped."

"Then I could take Dr. Marshall's coat."

"No, I'm just leaving."

Matt had her jacket off her shoulders before she could blink twice. "Don't be silly. I'd like to get to know Brad's teacher and I'm sure my aunt would as well. Don't you, Aunt Helen?"

Jenna was certain she saw the older woman's lips twitch. "Absolutely." She looked down at Jenna's socked foot. "I heard you took a spill on Friday."

"Just a little one. I'll be fine in a few days. Is Brad here?"

Miss Barnett frowned and glanced over her shoulder up the stairs. "Upstairs somewhere. He and Steven had a bit of a disagreement this morning."

Jenna grimaced. "Oh."

"He's grounded for life," Matt said cheerfully and Jenna had to truly fight to keep her sober grimace from becoming a snicker. It really wasn't funny, Brad's troubles, but obviously there was sibling rivalry at play.

Jenna couldn't help but feel at ease with the two that seemed a bit eccentric. Like the Llewellyns. Except, judging from the wonderful aroma coming from the kitchen, the Thatchers had better food.

Miss Barnett steered her toward the living room. "Come and sit, Dr. Marshall."

And before Jenna could refuse again, she was seated on a high-backed sofa with Miss Barnett at her side and a small ottoman under her left foot. "For circulation," Matt said and Jenna laughed.

"Can I get you some tea, Dr. Marshall?" Miss Barnett inserted. "Or cola?"

"No, ma'am, I really can't stay."

"Nonsense," Miss Barnett insisted. "Dr. Marshall, may I call you Jenna?"

Jenna blinked. "Yes, of course."

The older lady beamed. "Good, good." She patted Jenna's hand. "And you can call me Helen. I have a huge turkey in the oven. Wouldn't you like to stay for dinner?"

Turkey. After last night's sloppy joes a home-cooked turkey dinner sounded just short of heavenly. And her stomach was growling. And if she stayed longer Steven just might come home and she could see him one last time. But she was Brad's teacher. Having dinner at his house could be considered playing favorites. It might even be against the rules. She'd run it by Lucas in the morning. "I'm sorry, Helen. I'd love to, I really would, but I really need to go." She heard a canine whine from a room beyond the kitchen and remembered poor Jim still out in Casey's truck. "I have my dog out in the truck. He really shouldn't stay alone long."

"Well, bring him in," Helen said brightly. "He can play with Cindy Lou."

Jenna raised a brow. "Cindy Lou? What kind of dog is she? A poodle?"

"I wish," Helen muttered. "No, she's an Old English and she's very friendly. I'm sure Matthew wouldn't mind getting your dog from your truck." She stood up and dusted her palms on her slacks. "Now I simply will not take no for an answer. My nephew must have inconvenienced you this weekend by knocking you down and hurting your ankle. The least we can do is feed you."

The turkey did smell delightful. And she realized she really wanted to stay. "Okay, but I'll get Jim from the truck. He does better with strangers when he's been properly introduced."

Jenna led Jim in through the Thatchers' front door and was greeted by a small boy with a head of carrot red hair and more freckles than his round cheeks could handle. Jenna stopped and Jim automatically halted at her side. "Hello, I'm Jenna and your aunt asked me to dinner."

The little boy looked up, his eyes carefully blank, and she remembered the newspaper accounts of the abduction of Brad's youngest brother the spring before. This would be the child, she thought, and her heart squeezed with compassion at what he'd gone through. And was still going through, if his blank eyes were any indication. Jenna made herself smile. "And you must be Nicky."

Nicky stared at her warily for so long that Jenna felt her face begin to twitch. Then he dropped his eyes to Jim. "Is that your dog?"

Jenna knelt on one knee and put her arm around Jim. Now she was at eye level with Nicky. "His name is Jim. Do you want to pet him?"

Nicky shuffled forward and tentatively put out his hand. "He looks like a wolf."

"He's a German shepherd and big for his age." Jenna bent down and locked eyes with Jim, earning her a lick on her nose. '"I can see where you might think he's a wolf, but he's really a baby."

Nicky softly stroked Jim's head. "How old is he?"

"Almost two." She leaned closer and dropped her voice. "You want to know a secret?"

Nicky nodded, too seriously for a little boy, and Jenna's heart clenched again. "Jim has a brother named Jean-Luc. They're identical twins."

Nicky's brown eyes widened. "Really?"

"Really." She glanced up to see Helen watching with intense interest. Apparently Nicky's conversation was not an everyday occurrence. The thought made her feel a little warmer inside. "Do you have a dog?"

Nicky nodded, visibly relaxing a bit. "Her name is Cindy Lou. I got to name her."

Jenna raised her brows. "Let me guess. Cindy Lou Who who was not quite two?"

Nicky nodded again, still way too solemn for a small boy. He couldn't be more than seven.

"The Grinch was my favorite book when I was your age. Especially at Christmas."

Nicky scratched behind Jim's ears. "My daddy doesn't like Cindy Lou very much."

Jenna blinked, startled. Steven had seemed to like her dogs a great deal. "Why not?"

Nicky's mouth wobbled uncertainly, then one corner lifted in an almost smile. "She likes to chew things. Usually Daddy's things. Last week she chewed two shoes."

"And I bet they weren't matching shoes either."

Nicky's mouth curved up. "Nope. One sneaker and one church shoe."

Jenna chuckled. "Well, I guess that would explain your daddy's feelings, huh? I'd have a problem with Jim if he destroyed two pairs of my shoes."

Nicky reached out and tugged Jim's tunic. "Why does he wear this?"

"Jim's a therapy dog. He and I go to visit sick people and Jim helps them feel better."

Nicky's red brows scrunched together. "How can a dog make sick people better?"

Jenna watched him scratching Jim's ears and remembering his ordeal, carefully considered her answer. "Have you ever been afraid, Nicky?"

Nicky's hand went still on Jim's head. Nicky stood frozen and somehow sensing the importance, Jim didn't move a muscle.

Jenna quietly drew a breath. "Well, sometimes sick people are afraid. They're afraid because maybe they hurt, or maybe the doctor is about to poke them with needles. When they pat Jim's head, it helps them forget about being afraid for a little while. And that makes them feel better."

After what seemed like an eternity, Nicky began scratching Jim's head again. "Then he must be a very nice dog."

Jenna let out the breath she held. "He is. Would you mind if I let him off his lead?"

Nicky shook his head. "No, let him go. I'll take him to meet Cindy Lou."

Jenna stood up, watching Jim obediently follow Nicky through the kitchen. She turned to find Helen's eyes glistening and Matt's teasing expression replaced with a seriousness that approached Nicky's. This entire family was hurting, she realized. She cleared her throat, forcing emotion back down. "Jim's well trained. He won't hurt Nicky."

Helen blinked, then brushed the moisture from her face without shame. "I don't doubt that, Jenna." Her eyes brightened. "Come to the kitchen and tell me about therapy dogs while I carve the turkey." She threw a meaningful glance toward Matt. "I will be carving the turkey, Matt, with a very sharp instrument. I do not recommend trying to steal a taste."