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you are.” His handshake was warm and vigorous. “Now, what can I do for you?”
    Serena sat in a red leather chair and hesitated, but she had to ask. “Mr. Williams, Uncle Dan always handled everything for me and now—now I’m in a situation where I need money. If there is any.”
    Mr. Williams’ face was suddenly very still.
    â€œI mean, I’m not part of the family. I was just . . .”
    â€œHis ward. Of course, I know all about you.”
    So it wasn’t going to be so hard, after all. Serena leaned back and relaxed. “Then you’ll know what is left of my parents’ estate. Uncle Dan always explained to me that the money he put into my checking account was from my parents. That’s what I used for college and everything.”
    But Mr. Williams was shaking his head. “Actually, young lady, there was scarcely anything left when your folks died. I know because I helped clear up the estate. Your dad was just getting his start as a rancher and he was so much in debt that it took everything to satisfy the claimants.”
    â€œBut the money Uncle Dan put into my account . . .”
    Mr. Williams smiled. “Dan McIntire was a generous man—and he loved you very much.”
    â€œI see,” Serena said slowly. “I see.”
    All those years, Uncle Dan had supported her as a member of his family. Serena thought of her college years, of the trip to Europe after graduation, of the sense of freedom and independence it had given her to have her “own” money. It had always been there, a bulwark against the future.
    Now that security was gone, just as Castle Rock—for her—was gone.
    â€œSerena.”
    She looked up at Mr. Williams.
    â€œI don’t want to pry, but what prompts your concern about money?”
    She managed a smile. “Not having any.”
    â€œOh, but that’s not the case. Certainly not so long as you stay at Castle Rock.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?” she asked sharply.
    He hesitated, then said good-humoredly, “Just what I said. You certainly won’t lack for funds so long as you stay at Castle Rock.”
    â€œBut I can’t stay,” she said unhappily.
    â€œWhy not?” His voice was sharp.
    She spread her hands. “Julie told me to leave.”
    He frowned. “Why did she do that?”
    â€œI don’t really know,” Serena said quietly. “She came into the office yesterday, where I was working on the books, and said I would have to go.”
    â€œShe can’t do that.” He paused. “Look, Serena, I called the ranch yesterday afternoon and asked that all of the family and you come to my office tomorrow for a meeting.”
    â€œNo one told me.”
    â€œI’m telling you now. The meeting will be at four tomorrow afternoon and I will explain the provisions of Dan McIntire’s will.”
    â€œI’m not part of the family,” she said, a little unsteadily.
    â€œNo,” he agreed, “but the will directly affects you, too, my dear.”
    The next day, Serena’s mood alternated between hope and despair. On the one hand, lawyers do not speak loosely. If Mr. Williams thought she could stay on the ranch, perhaps she could. Then Serena would recall Julie’s face and the words spoken almost casually, “. . . we won’t need the room until the end of the week . . .”
    What could Serena do if Julie opposed her return to the ranch? Nothing, absolutely nothing. As she faced that cold truth, her spirit would droop and she would once again look at the tiny print of the want ads and feel that now familiar flutter of panic. What kind of skills could she offer an employer? She could keep books. She understood the workings of a big ranch. She could ride a horse. Not much there to earn a job in the city.
    The next day she checked out of the motel at noon. She almost felt it was an omen. If Mr. Williams were right, she