The Target

all of you, sit down. As to any organization behind all this, we'll speak of it later. Ah, here's Miles with some lemonade."

    "I brought enough for all of you, sir."

    "Thank you, Miles," Molly said.

    "And I brought some chocolate cake I baked this morning." He looked at Emma as he poured her a glass. "You like chocolate cake?"

    "Oh yes, Mr. Miles. It's the best."

    Ramsey laughed. "Be careful or she'll eat the whole cake. She hasn't had many goodies for a while."

    Miles smiled as he ruffled Emma's hair, even as Mason Lord frowned. He watched his daughter wipe the child's hands on one of the little wet towels Miles had brought. How had Miles known to do that? He was like one of those hovering smiley-faced airline attendants. He was silent until everyone had drunk the lemonade and eaten some of Miles's chocolate cake. He hadn't known of any cake. He loved chocolate cake but Miles hadn't offered him any, either for lunch or right now. He'd had a low-cal, low-fat flan for dessert the previous night. It hadn't even tasted very good. He looked at his beautiful wife. She wasn't looking at the cake. She was looking at Molly. Her face was perfectly still. No expression at all. What was she thinking?

    Ramsey Hunt was big, tall, and very well built, but that made sense, of course, given what he'd done in his own courtroom. He was a man who obviously worked out, who took good care of himself, a man who looked as if he could deal with anything that happened to cross his path. Mason supposed he was good-looking enough, his features regular, his coloring olive, his eyes a green color that argued against Italian blood. But who knew in America? All of them were mongrels, himself included. At least he had more good Irish blood than anything else. As for his beautiful Eve, she was Swedish, every beautiful blond inch of her. She'd told him stories about her father falling in love with a German countess, but he hadn't married her. Too many control-freak genes, he'd said. No, Eve was pure Scandinavian. He'd chosen well this time.

    He looked again, hard, at the man sitting opposite him. Judge Ramsey Hunt of the Ninth Federal District Court- who would have imagined that he'd be the one to find Emma?

    What were the odds of this man's finding Molly's daughter and saving her? He cleared his throat and said, "Judge Hunt, you said you found Emma in the forest. Did she willingly come with you to your cabin?"

    "She was unconscious." He saw that Emma had stopped eating. Those ears of hers were on full alert. He said easily, "I can tell you all about it after we've got Emma settled in, all right?"

    Mason Lord said, "Very well. Miles, give them three rooms."

    "Emma and I will stay together, Dad."

    "Very well, two bedrooms."

    Ramsey turned to Molly, and said low, "Your father wants to grill me. Take Emma upstairs, all right?"

    She didn't want to go; he knew it. "Please, Molly, go. I'll set your father straight."

    "No," she said. "Emma is my daughter. You won't send me off to the kitchen to make tea."

    He understood. He said to Mason Lord, "Let's make it a bit later, sir. Molly and I will settle in. If Emma is content to stay with Miles, then we'll come see you as soon as we can."

    Mason Lord turned to his daughter. "What's wrong with you? Take your child upstairs. I want to speak to him. You had little enough to do with any of this. I want to thank him for saving you, for bringing you here. You haven't got the sense of a goat. Now, take your child upstairs. Judge Hunt and I need to talk things over."

    Molly rose. She was shaking. Odd, she thought, how he could push the buttons so easily, so quickly. Only this time, she wasn't going to fold her tent and slink away. She fought the urge to lower her head, her eyes at her feet, like a whipped dog. She jerked her head up. She'd been through too much ever to let anyone take control of her again. But she had to keep calm, not let him see how she had to fight the hold he still had on her, the pull she was still fighting.

    "I see," she said slowly, cutting him off, for he would have continued, she knew. She touched Emma's shoulder. "Emma, love, are you full? Yes, then let me wipe your mouth. Now, we're leaving this place. As it turns out, we just came for a short visit. Come along, Emma." She smiled at Ramsey. "You coming?"

    "In a flash," he said. He nodded to Miles. "Thank you for the cake and lemonade. It was delicious."

    "You don't talk to me like that, Molly."

    "I didn't talk to you