"I don't see any signs that your mouse has relatives living here," he said.

She paused in the doorway to the pantry. "I won't ask what you're looking for." She folded her arms over her chest. "At least there's a lot of storage space in the pantry."

Kyle walked over to where she was standing. He put his arm around her shoulder and tried to draw her close. She resisted. He settled on giving her a brotherly squeeze.

"You're discouraged," he said.

She shrugged.

"It's going to be a lot of work, but I'll help. By the time the furniture arrives, we'll have the place clean and painted."

Sandy made a great show of pulling free of his arm, then walking to the other side of the kitchen. "I appreciate your willingness to help," she said. "But no thanks. The kids and I want to do this by ourselves. We don't want, or need, a man in our lives. The children and I have everything under control."

"I could tell by how you all reacted to the mouse."

She looked away. "Yes, well, that was different. I wasn't expecting to find a mouse. Now that I know there might be more, I can handle it."

He glanced around at the dusty cupboards, the trail of ants and the limp, gnawed curtains. "You're not planning to sleep here tonight, are you?"

"We're staying at a motel in town." She took a step toward him, then paused. "Look, Kyle, you're being really nice and neighborly, but it isn't necessary. I'm not the sort of woman who needs rescuing. I knew the house hadn't been lived in when I bought it. It needs a little cleaning and some paint. We'll manage."

"The ceilings in most of the rooms are over ten feet high," he said. "Do you have the equipment to handle that?"