"You're staying with me until you're better," Jeff Ritter said.

She blinked. The voice sounded genuine and she felt the soft whisper of his breath across her cheek as he spoke. Now that she made herself think about it, she could feel the smooth wool of his suit where her hand rested just below his collar at the back of his neck. She blinked, not sure what was real and what was fever induced.

"Are you carrying me?"

Gray eyes stared into her face. "You're sicker than I thought."

True or not, it wasn't much of an answer.

"We can't-" She pressed her lips together. What couldn't they do? She couldn't remember.

"You'll be safe at my house," he told her.

Safe? Not likely. Suddenly she was being lowered into nothing. She clutched at Jeff, then sighed in relief when he settled her onto a chair.

"Collect her things," he said to someone just out of Ashley's field of vision.

"I'll get her shoes."

The last statement, spoken in her daughter's bright, cheerful voice, brought Ashley back to the land of the living faster than any drug.

"Maggie?"

"She'll be fine."

She shook her head slightly and ignored the subsequent wooziness. With a couple of deep breaths, she managed to clear her head enough to focus on the man crouched in front of her. She hadn't been mistaken-it was Jeff Ritter, all right. Still dressed in his well-tailored suit, still looking distant and the tiniest bit scary.

"Why are you here?" she asked.

"Because you're too sick to stay at the shelter. I'm taking you home until you're on your feet."

She wiggled her sock-clad toes and wondered if he had any idea that she felt as if she was going to be sick forever.

"We can't," she told him. "I mean, we don't even know you."

His steel-gray eyes stared directly into hers. She searched for some flicker of warmth, of humanity, but there was nothing but her tiny reflection in his irises.