Well, this was nice, but she'd awakened for a reason--her bladder was full. It was a heavy weight at the base of her belly, and it was approaching an ache. She slid carefully out of bed. Naresha slept nude, Acacia favored baby doll pajamas, and Milda wore an ankle length, floating cotton gown that wasn't much different from her dresses. She figured it was modest enough to venture out into the public part of the house.

The bathroom was down the hall. She padded toward it, not really needing the thin light that seeped under the bathroom door. She was reaching for the knob when she heard movement on the other side of the door, and she paused. *Oh, dear, I hope Nana isn't having a bad night. I have a little mint in my bag--that might help settle...*

The door opened, and she threw a hand over her eyes, squeaking in pain with the brightness. There was a gasp, and it didn't sound right--it was too deep. She split her fingers and squinted. All she could really make out was a tall, dark figure, outlined against the glare of a bare bulb.

Colin Whitcomb clutched the towel about his hips, gaping at the apparition before him. He'd always thought that this old pile must be haunted, no matter what Nana Collins said, and for a second he thought that he had proof. But the red hair spilling over the shoulders of the figure in white was too vibrant to belong to a spector. No, this was a girl. What she was doing here he had no earthly idea, but it was definitely a girl.

He couldn't see much of her face behind her hand, but he got an impression of piquant features, and a glint of blue between her fingers. One small, slender hand, fingers tipped by unpainted nails *long nails. Somehow they don't look right for her* extended pleadingly, and the girl whispered, "Light. Please, so bright."

"Oh, geez, I'm sorry!" Colin reached back and snatched at the dangling chain, plunging the bathroom into darkness. Now he was effectively blind, at least until his eyes adjusted. "I'm... maybe this is better, so you can't see... I mean, I didn't think anyone would be up, so I didn't bring my robe with me, and I didn't want to put my pants back on because I spilled coffee on them t'night, and..." His voice trailed off, because he could hear a soft chuckle. He found himself smiling. "Uh, right. Sorry."

"It's all right--you caught the towel in time. I didn't see anything." Her tone was friendly, and amused. "And if I did, I doubt it would have stricken me blind. I think I scared you worse than you scared me."

"I won't deny it. I thought I was being haunted for a second."

"Really?" She sounded pleased. "Nana didn't mention any ghosts."

"She denies it, but I have my doubts. Are you a relative of Nana's?"

"No, I'm a new border. You must be Colin. She told me about you."

"I came in late, and she was already in bed, so you come as a complete surprise to me, Miss...?"

"No Miss, just Milda. Milda Ballard. And I suppose I should tell you before you get scared out of a year's growth that there are three of us. My sisters Naresha and Acacia have moved in, too."

"That's great! Nana can use the extra income. I can't afford to give her much, and I know that disability check she gets isn't exactly lavish."

"Disability?" Milda frowned in concern. "She's sick?"

"Not exactly. She..." Colin trailed off. "She'll tell you herself, if she wants to."

"I understand." Milda's vision had returned, and she regarded the young man before her. Colin was tall, over six feet, but slender. He had a long, gentle face, with a wide, humorous mouth. His damp hair was dark gold, and it brushed his shoulders. Milda felt an urge to reach out and touch it. She hadn't seen many men with long hair, and they all were rather nasty individuals, careless about hygiene. Colin's hair looked like it would be clean and soft. Clean. Yes, the scents radiating from Colin were of warmth and soap, and a peculiarly pleasant male muskiness.

Colin suddenly realized that they'd both been quiet for almost a minute. He wished that he'd had a chance to get a better look at her before he put out the light, but there was always tomorrow. "Well, I guess I'd better let you in. You must've had a reason for coming here."

She giggled as he moved past her, so close that she felt his arm brush hers. "Yes, I'm afraid I need to go scratch in the sandbox. Good night, Colin."

"Good night, Milda." The door shut, and Colin became aware of the gooseflesh that was creeping up his arms and legs. This old barn was impossible to keep heated, and he usually had enough sense to wear something warm when he got up at night. Tonight he'd been so weary when he came in late that he hadn't bothered, figuring the steam would keep the bathroom warm, and he could hurry to his room when he was done. He hadn't expected to be delayed by a redheaded phantom.

When Colin thought of Milda, the cold seemed to recede for a moment, and he felt a warm flush. He hurried into his room and under the covers before it could disappear.

"Sorry."

"Oh, drat. Put them over here." Milda did, and Naresha rubbed her own narrow, elegant feet briskly against Milda's chilled ones. "Better?"

"Yes, thanks."

"I thought I heard voices, dear. I'm assuming that one of them was you, but the other didn't sound like Nana."

"It wasn't. I told you about the boy border, didn't I?"

Acacia's face popped up over Naresha's shoulder, eyes glinting suspiciously. "What did he do to you?"

"Nothing. You think I can't scream for help if I need to? Don't get started, Casey. His name is Colin, and he seems like a really nice guy." Acacia snorted as she lay back down. "Well, he does! All he had on was a towel, and..." Acacia appeared again, like a jack-in-the-box. "Stop it. He was taking a bath, and I surprised him. If he was going to be slimy he could have 'accidentally' let the towel slip, but he kept a death grip on it and apologized himself breathless. He's all right." Grumbling, Acacia started to lie back down. "He's cute, too."

Acacia jerked back up, staring across Naresha at her youngest sister, who was snuggling down, eyes closed. "Mildy..."

Naresha's voice was weary. "For God's sake, Acacia, let it go. As much as I hate to disabuse you of your cherished belief, not all men are slavering beasts." She stroked a thick strand of Milda's coppery hair, her voice fond. "Milda hasn't had our problems. Maybe there's a chance for her."

He rummaged through his drawers till he found a bright, tie-dyed tee-shirt instead of his usual drab white or gray. He stopped in the bathroom before going downstairs. Usually he waited till after breakfast to brush his teeth, but he did it now, then he carefully combed his hair till it was smooth and gleaming, and tied it back with a leather thong. After a moment's thought, and when a brief rub at his jaw produced a rasp, he shaved also.

He went downstairs and along the hall toward the kitchen. The smell of Nana's sour-cream coffee cake drifted out to greet him, but for once that didn't absorb him. He was more interested in the husky voice that was speaking to Nana. He hesitated just outside the door, frowning slightly. That didn't sound quite right. It was similar, but he was sure that Milda's voice had been lighter, higher pitched.

When he stepped into the kitchen he knew he had been right. The girl at the table had her back to him, but her hair was a sleek black cap instead of a ruddy fall. Nana, pouring a glass of milk at the counter, smiled at him. "Colin! My, you were late last night, weren't you?"

"Yeah, sorry about that, but the crowd was good. I think there was some sort of convention going on, and the tips were plentiful. The bottom of my case was covered, and not all of it was coins."

The girl at the table turned slightly, hooking an arm over the chair back, and smiled at him. He felt a sudden flash of confusion. The hair was wrong, but the face, and the eyes... *No, I have to be wrong. I didn't get all that good a look at her, after all.* "Well, I know who you're related to."

The dark haired girl gave a throaty laugh. "Wouldn't deny it even if I could, pet." She extended a hand, and Colin shook it, feeling as if he should kiss it instead. He felt her nails lightly graze across his palm--another similarity. "I'm the middle sister--Naresha. Acacia and Milda are being bed hogs and sleeping in." Nana put the glass of milk before her, and she took it, draining half of it in one long swallow. When she lowered the glass there was a white rim over her mouth, and she casually licked it away. She flicked a finger against the nearly empty coffee cup that sat in front of her. "I love milk, and I love coffee, and never the twain shall meet."

"Sit down, dear," Nana said, cutting a slice of the coffee cake. "I know you want this. Would you like anything else?"

Colin sat, his mouth already beginning to water at the thought of the cake. "Some cheese-eggs would be good, if you don't mind?"

"Have I ever minded?" She put the cake in front of him, and scolded when he started to pick it up. "Not with your fingers!" She handed him a fork. "You young people."

Naresha sipped what was left of her coffee, nodding thanks when Nana gave her a piece of the cake, too. "Darling, if that bothers you, dear Casey is going to give you ulcers. The girl would have fit in perfectly in the middle ages, before the invention of the fork. If you served her vegetable soup she'd just as soon drink it, then pick out the vegetables. Not the most couth person in the world," she confided to Colin, "but she has her good points."

"I'm looking forward to meeting her," Colin said automatically. "Does... do you girls sleep late all the time?"

Nana gave him a 'don't be rude' look, but Naresha wasn't fooled by the vagueness of his question. "It's hard to say. Our sleep habits are a little erratic, but Milda is usually up at a decent hour." She knew she'd been right when she saw a blush creeping up his cheeks. "Milda was right--you are cute." She forced back a giggle when the flush deepened.

While Nana scrambled eggs and stirred in cheese, and Colin demolished his pastry, Naresha studied him. *Mmm. Little sister has good taste. That's a yummy one, all right.* He wasn't a muscle-man by any stretch of the imagination, but his slender body looked taut and toned. And despite the length of his hair, there was something old-fashioned about him--something almost courtly. *Yes, he'd suite little Milda very well. That means I have to keep my hands off him, darn it. And it means that Acacia had better keep her hands off him, too, but for a different reason. If Milda gets close to him, and I think she will, given half a chance, she'll never forgive Casey if she hurts him.*

They chatted comfortably for awhile as Colin made his way through a large plate of eggs. Nana had laced them thickly with sharp cheddar, and more than once Colin had to slurp up a long, shiny golden strand. Naresha watched the pursing of his firm lips and the way his tongue nimbly swabbed up butter smears, and began to regret that he was forbidden fruit. But the way he occasionally cast longing glances toward the kitchen door told her exactly where his interest lay. Finally she said, "Well, I want to go out and do a little poking around. I'll take Casey with me, and I'll poke Milda out of bed to help you, Nana."

"That's not necessary. You girls just moved in," she protested.

Colin's eyes *Oh, pretty green eyes!* lit up. "Does she like museums? I'm going to go work the lunch crowd in front of the art museum later. I'm a street singer," he explained. "Maybe she'd like to ride down with me and look around while I work? They have a nice exhibition of folk art right now."

"That sounds right up her alley, Col." *She'll probably prefer to sit around and listen to you, but I won't tell you that. No point in giving you a swelled head.*

He sat, slipping the guitar strap over his shoulder, and began to adjust the strings, strumming a little to listen to the tone. "Are you sure you wouldn't rather go browse inside?"

She shook her head, light sparkling on her hair and her rimless glasses. "I'll have plenty of time for that. I don't think we'll be moving on for awhile."

"I hope not." Colin shyly kept his eyes on his hand as he made the confession. "I mean... it's a real bummer to have to keep moving around. After I left home, it took me weeks to find Nana and settle down."

"Yes, drifting around is a bummer," she said softly. "I really, really hope we can stay here for awhile. It should be far enough..." He glanced at her, and she trailed off.

*Far enough away from what?* he wondered. He didn't ask. Instead he just said, "Sometimes I wish I could afford an electric guitar, but then I'd need an amp, and a place to plug it in, so I guess accoustic is better, at least for now. Tell you what, the crowd will thin out in about an hour and a half, then we can grab a bite and check out the show inside, huh?"

"I'd like that, but I have to be home before four."

"Why?"

"Because Acacia has to be to work by five."

He blinked. "She doesn't allow you out while she's at work?" Milda was still smiling, but it was as if a shutter had come down behind her eyes. Colin didn't like that. One of the most attractive things about Milda was her openness. "Yeah, I guess older sisters can be kind of protective." He strummed a few bars, then started singing. "There is a house in New Orleans, they call the Rising Sun. And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy, and God, I know I'm one..."

He had a pleasant voice that seemed to hover somewhere between tenor and bass, and he sang simply, without a lot of vocal flourishes. Before he'd finished the first chorus a young woman in a business suit had tossed a small handful of change into the case at his feet, offering a small smile in answer to his nod of thanks.

Colin sang steadily: And I Love Her, I Need Your Lovin', I Got You, Babe, Ticket to Ride. The current, popular songs always seemed to bring the most tips, but he interspersed them with old folk songs, like I Gave My Love a Cherry and Barbara Allen. He even did a request (for a dollar), and managed a spirited version of I Want to Hold Your Hand. "It's not that I don't like it," he explained, "It's just that... Well, they can hear that anywhere these days, you know? I like to try to do something a little different when I can."

"Casey would like it," Milda declaired.

"You think so?"

"Sure. She'd have been dancing. It's hard for her to stay still when she hears a good dance tune."

"I'll have to remember to do those when I practise around the house."

Milda cocked her head, smiling at him. "Trying to get on my sister's good side already?"

"Isn't it better to make a good impression on the family? I mean, I can tell how close you girls are and... and since she's sorta protective, I thought... I... I put my foot in my mouth sometimes."

Milda laughed quietly, blue eyes shining. She took his hand, giving it a tiny squeeze, feeling the thick, smooth pads of callusses on his fingertips. "I like you, too."