“Yes.” He paused. “Are you close to your parents?”
Lia gave a choked laugh. “You noticed, huh? I talk to Mom regularly. Dad only when he happens to answer the phone. He’s a really distant guy. I love him, but I’m not sure I like him very much. He and Mom still have kind of a strange relationship. She waits on him, he takes her for granted.” She laughed again. “Okay, maybe not so strange. There are probably lots of marriages like that.”
“No sisters or brothers?”
“Mom got pregnant once after me, while we were down in Mexico. She started hemorrhaging and ended up not only miscarrying but having to have a hysterectomy. It was…really awful.” Another shadow on her memory of that time.
“You relate well to the kids who come to you because you know what it feels like to be abruptly transplanted.”
“I suppose so.”
“You really do care about them all.” His tone was odd and she looked at him in surprise.
“Of course I do.” Understanding, she tilted her head to one side. “You thought I did it for the money.”
“Do you blame me for wondering?”
Lia spread her arms out. “Do I look like someone who is very interested in money?”
Conall sighed. “No. Call me a cynic. I’ve never had occasion to meet anyone prepared to give their all to someone else’s kids.”
Or their own? His parents apparently hadn’t given much of anything to their sons.
“No, I don’t blame you for being a cynic. And I can’t deny there are people who do foster for the money. That’s not the end of the world if they’re reasonably kind. They still give refuge to kids who need it. And really, no matter how much we love our jobs, we expect to be paid, right? For me, though, fostering children is more of a vocation.”
“Yes.” He studied her then with minute attention to detail, as if she was a curiosity he never expected to encounter again and wanted to remember. Lia was uncomfortable but withstood it.
After a minute she said, “I had the impression your brother Niall loves his stepchildren. He was really good with them.”
“I noticed. He said our children.”
“Desmond is quite a character.”
“Yeah.” Conall smiled. “Not what you’d call shy.”
Relaxing finally, Lia giggled. “Definitely not shy. Walker and Brendan didn’t know what had hit them.”
“What do you think about those swimming lessons? Will they be here with you long enough?”
“I don’t know. I hope so.”
“Does the state fund stuff like that?”
“When they don’t, I do. I treat the children I have as much as if they were really mine as I can.”
“And then you let them go.” The understanding in his eyes shattered her.
Her voice a little thick, Lia said, “Yes. I have to.”
“Are you ever tempted…?”
“Of course I am.” She tried to smile. “Most of the time, my keeping them isn’t even a possibility. They’re here while their own families work out their problems. It’s unusual for me to have kids who have been released for adoption.”
“Like Walker and Brendan.”
“Yes.” Part of her hoped they were taken away soon. If they stayed too long, saying goodbye might kill her. She wanted so much to see them happy again. She straightened her shoulders. “Speaking of which, I’d better go in.”
“Yeah, I should probably relieve Jeff or try to get some more sleep.”
“You keep weird hours,” she observed, as she ducked through the fence.
He fell in at her side when she started for the house. “You get used to that. Bad guys tend to be nocturnal.”
“I suppose it makes sense that they like to operate under the cover of night.” She glanced at him. “Are you nocturnal?”
“I…adapt.” His face gave nothing away. “I’m good at adapting.”
Why did that make her sad? Because she wondered how much of himself he held on to, beneath the ever-changing protective coloration? Would she even recognize him in a different role? Would he be as…kind, if he had become someone else entirely?