“He invited her to move in with him?” Hope fumed. Her eyes were wide open. “What a horrible young man!”

      “He’s not horrible at all,” Charity murmured, threading the wool through her knitting machine. “Dear Mitchel was just trying to help. In a bizarre, unorthodox sort of way.” She slid the carriage back and forth a few times experimentally and then began an even, steady rhythm that soon produced a width of white lacy fabric.

      “Melanie was so hurt when her mother abandoned her. It took ages, remember, to get her to open up. That terrible childhood should have toughened her up, but instead she became more withdrawn.” Charity smiled in remembrance. “My Melanie was the child who always needed an extra hug or a few extra words of praise.”

      “I remember,” Hope murmured. “She’d work so hard in school, doing far more than was necessary for any project I assigned.” Her eyes stared into the past. “She was always the one who lent a helping hand, stuck up for the little kid being bullied.”

      Charity nodded. “It was almost as if she was too insecure and afraid to believe in the love that Peter and I offered. When he died, I think she felt it was her fault for leaning on him so much.”

      “Well, I want her to be happy,” Hope added stoutly. “But I don’t want her to be hurt. And Mitchel will do that. He’s had a terrible childhood, you know. Harry told me some of it.” She filled them in on the few details she knew. “Melanie needs someone strong with a solid background. Someone she can lean on. Not somebody with problems of his own!”

      “I don’t know why you’re so concerned, Hope.” Charity smiled as she started another color. “Melanie is a good girl. She wouldn’t allow anything untoward to happen. And they would only be sharing the kitchen.”

      Hopes eyes were huge with disbelief.

      “You mean you condone this crazy idea?” She gasped. “But you’re her mother.”

      “I know that, dear. And I’m not saying I condone anything. I have only her good at heart. But Melanie is too self-contained. She’s always pushing everyone but her seniors away. She’s missing out on the best parts of life, and I want her to find happiness with someone her own age.” She shrugged. “Maybe if she and Mitch do share an apartment, she’ll realize the world is full of more than grumpy old men. It does have two bedrooms, you know.” Charity’s warm brown eyes twinkled. She delighted in her friend’s shocked look.

      “Oh, my,” Faith breathed, her emerald green eyes glowing with excitement. “And wouldn’t it be romantic. Why, they could have a candlelight dinner without the whole town knowing about it.” She stared into space, lost in a daydream.

      “Well,” Hope said, “I’m ashamed of you, Charity Flowerday. And there’s no way I’m going to allow Melanie’s good reputation to be soiled by such a tawdry situation. I’m going to do my duty by the girl.” She picked up her purse and swept regally through the front door, the light of battle gleaming in the depths of her blue eyes. “We’ll just see about this…arrangement,” she muttered furiously.

      When Judge Harry Conroy showed up promptly at six o’clock, Hope was ready for him. She wore a pair of navy slacks and a white blouse with a navy and white cardigan over her shoulders. She could barely control her temper as she waited for Harry to open her car door and her greeting wasn’t as welcoming as it could have been.

      “Is something the matter, Hope?” he asked at last. He started the car and pulled away from her house, then glanced at her curiously. “I mean, have you heard more about Jean or something?”

      “Good heavenly days, no,” she snapped irritably. “I hadn’t even thought about that. Don’t have time.” She turned to face him angrily. “Charity is set on sending her daughter traveling down the path of destruction, and I intend to see that she doesn’t do it.”

      “Charity is?” the judge murmured, puzzled. “But I thought…well, never mind that. What’s Charity done now?”

      “It’s all because of that awful grandson of yours,” Hope complained. “He flies into town, all handsome and debonair, and sweeps the girl off her feet.”

      “So you think he’s handsome, do you?” Judge Conroy’s eyes twinkled.

      “Of course he’s handsome,” Hope spluttered. “You know very well he takes after you, Harry, and you were a heartbreaker at that age. You still are.”

      “Do tell,” Harry murmured with a smile of appreciation, allowing himself to preen.

      “But you had some scruples. You would never have up and asked a woman to live with you so cold-bloodedly.”

      Judge Conroy absently turned down the dirt road that led to the park beside the river where he’d courted his wife years ago. It wasn’t much of a river now, of course. And he wasn’t as young as he once was. But oh, my, things did sound promising!

      “Mitch has asked someone to live with him?” he repeated softly. “That’s strange. I didn’t think the boy had any intention of getting married.”

      “He doesn’t,” Hope shrieked in exasperation. “He wants her to live in sin with him.”

      The judge stared at her as if she’d lost her marbles, sending Hope’s blood pressure soaring.

      “I hardly think Mitch would suggest—”

      “Oh, yes, he would,” she contradicted him. “I was visiting Nettie Rivers. We were sitting in her room, right by the window, and I distinctly heard him ask Melanie to move in with him.” She slammed the door of the car and stomped to a clearing beside a tiny waterfall. “Well, I’m not having it,” she spluttered, sinking down onto the blanket Harry spread. “Do you hear me?”

      “Yes, dear,” he murmured, trying to understand. It didn’t sound at all like Mitch, but then the boy did have a mind of his own. “I’ll talk to him,” he promised, patting her hand commiseratingly.

      “It won’t do any good,” Hope murmured, squeezing his hand gently. “But thank you. No, Charity’s determined to go along with it all. She thinks Melanie needs to see what she’s missing, working with old people all the time.”

      “Perhaps she’s right about that, Hope. She is the girl’s mother, after all. Charity wants to see Melanie happily married with her own children. So do I, for that matter.” He stared at her. “Let’s pray about it, dear. God can do anything. He can certainly handle this.”

      They bowed their heads, and Judge Conroy murmured a short petition, asking for guidance and help for their friends and relatives.

      “Do you feel better now, dear?” he asked, after they’d finished the low-fat potato salad, cold sliced chicken sandwiches with tomato, lettuce and spicy mustard. For dessert, there was fruit salad and hot, fragrant herbal tea.

      “A little,” Hope conceded. She stared into the woods. “I think I shall keep my eye on that situation. Perhaps I can be of help.”

      “But won’t you be busy contacting the authorities about Jean?” he asked softly, knowing it wouldn’t hurt her to discuss her past love. To the judge’s immense surprise, Hope shook her head.

      “No,”