New York Times bestselling author RaeAnne Thayne brings you back to Haven Point—a place made for second chances...

McKenzie Shaw would do anything for her hometown of Haven Point. It may be small, but it’s never let her down...unlike gorgeous, infuriating Ben Kilpatrick. He was her childhood hero until he closed his family’s factory, leaving the town’s economy in shambles. Now his tech firm is considering opening a local facility. For Haven Point’s sake, McKenzie has to grit her teeth and play nice.

What could a town filled with painful memories ever offer Ben? Yet seeing the town through the eyes of McKenzie—its fiery young mayor—he suddenly has his answer. If only he can resolve the animosity crackling between them, Ben may have found the place where he can build ties and find healing...a place where love arrives when it’s least expected.

Praise for New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author RaeAnne Thayne

“RaeAnne Thayne is quickly becoming one of my favorite authors.... Once you start reading, you aren’t going to be able to stop.”

—Fresh Fiction on Snow Angel Cove

“A sometimes heartbreaking tale of love and relationships in a small Colorado town.... Poignant and sweet, this tale of second chances will appeal to fans of military-flavored sweet romance.”

—Publishers Weekly on Christmas in Snowflake Canyon

“Once again, Thayne proves she has a knack for capturing those emotions that come from the heart.... Crisp storytelling and many amusing moments make for a delightful read.”

—RT Book Reviews on Willowleaf Lane

“Thayne pens another winner by combining her huge, boisterous cast of familiar, lovable characters with a beautiful setting and a wonderful story. Her main characters are strong and three-dimensional, with enough heat between them to burn the pages.”

—RT Book Reviews on Currant Creek Valley

“Hope’s Crossing is a charming series that lives up to its name. Reading these stories of small-town life engage the reader’s heart and emotions, inspiring hope and the belief miracles are possible.”

—Debbie Macomber, #1 New York Times bestselling author, on Sweet Laurel Falls

“Thayne, once again, delivers a heartfelt story of a caring community and a caring romance between adults who have triumphed over tragedies.”

—Booklist on Woodrose Mountain

“Thayne’s series starter introduces the Colorado town of Hope’s Crossing in what can be described as a cozy romance.... [A] gentle, easy read.”

—Publishers Weekly on Blackberry Summer

Redemption Bay

RaeAnne Thayne

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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To the fantastic Jayme Maness for going above and beyond! I cannot thank you enough. Special thanks to Miranda Hutchins-Holman and Karen Whitmer Armes. Lindy-Grace and Hondo, thank you as well, for helping bring them to life. As always, I am eternally grateful for my amazing husband and children for putting up with my scattered deadline brain. Love you to the moon and back.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Praise

Title Page

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

EPILOGUE

Extract

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

THIS WAS HER favorite kind of Haven Point evening.

McKenzie Shaw locked the front door of her shop, Point Made Flowers and Gifts. The day had been long and hectic, filled with customers and orders, which was wonderful, but also plenty of unavoidable mayoral business.

She was tired and wanted to stretch out on the terrace or her beloved swing, with her feet up and something cool at her elbow. The image beckoned but the sweetness of the view in front of her made her pause.

“Hold on,” she said to Paprika, her cinnamon standard poodle. The dog gave her a long-suffering look but settled next to the bench in front of the store.

McKenzie sat and reached a hand down to pet Rika’s curly hair. A few sailboats cut through the stunning blue waters of Lake Haven, silvery and bright in the fading light, with the rugged, snowcapped mountains as a backdrop.

She didn’t stop nearly often enough to soak in the beautiful view or enjoy the June evening air, tart and clean from the mighty fir and pines growing in abundance around the lake.

A tourist couple walked past holding hands and eating gelato cones from Carmela’s, their hair backlit into golden halos by the setting sun. From a short distance away, she could hear children laughing and shrieking as they played on the beach at the city park and the alluring scent of grilling steak somewhere close by made her stomach grumble.

She loved every season here on the lake but the magnificent Haven Point summers were her favorite—especially lazy summer evenings filled with long shadows and spectacular sunsets.

Kayaking on the lake, watching children swim out to the floating docks, seeing old-timers in ancient boats casting gossamer lines out across the water. It was all part of the magic of Haven Point’s short summer season.

The town heavily depended on the influx of tourists during the summer, though it didn’t come close to the crowds enjoyed by the larger city to the north, Shelter Springs—especially since the Haven Point Inn burned down just before Christmas and had yet to be rebuilt.

Shelter Springs had more available lodging, more restaurants, more shopping—as well as more problems with parking, traffic congestion and crime, she reminded herself.

“Evening, Mayor,” Mike Bailey called, waving as he rumbled past the store in the gorgeous old blue ’57 Chevy pickup he’d restored.

She waved back, then nodded to Luis Robles, locking up his insurance agency across the street.

A soft, warm feeling of contentment seeped through her. This was her town. These were her people. She was part of it, just like the Redemption Mountains across the lake. She had fought to earn that sense of belonging since the day she showed up, a lost, grieving, bewildered girl.

She had worked hard to earn the respect of her friends and neighbors. The chance to serve as the mayor had never been something she sought but she had accepted the challenge willingly. It wasn’t about power or influence—not that one could find much of either in a small town like Haven Point. She simply wanted to do anything she could to make a difference in her community. She wanted to think she was serving with honor and dignity, but she was fully aware there were plenty in town who might disagree.

Her stomach growled, louder this time. That steak smelled as if it was charred to perfection. Too bad she didn’t know who was grilling it or she might just stop by to say hello. McKenzie was briefly tempted to stop in at Serrano’s or even grab a gelato of her own at Carmela’s—stracciatella, her particular favorite—but she decided she would be better off taking Rika home.

“Come on, girl. Let’s go.”

The dog jumped to her feet, all eager, lanky grace, and McKenzie gripped the leash and headed off.

She lived not quite a mile from her shop downtown and she and Rika both looked forward all day to this evening walk along the trail that circled the lake.

As she walked, she waved at people walking, biking, driving, even boating past when the shoreline came into view. It was quite a workout for her arm but she didn’t mind. Each wave was another reminder that this was her town and she loved it.

“Let’s grill some chicken when we get home,” she said aloud to Rika, whose tongue lolled out with appropriate enthusiasm.

Talking to her dog again. Not a good sign but she decided it was too beautiful an evening to worry about her decided lack of any social life to speak of. Town council meetings absolutely didn’t count.

Her warm mood lasted until a few houses from her own, when an older gentleman out clipping the tall hedge in front of his trim brick home whirled to face her, almost as if he had been lying in wait for her—probably exactly what he had been doing.

“I need a word with you, missy.”

Her stomach dropped. Darwin Twitchell—the bane of her existence and the three previous mayors before her.

“Mr. Twitchell. How are you this lovely evening?”

“Terrible,” he growled. He wore a perpetual frown, much like his English bulldog, Petunia, who adored him. Of the two, Petunia clearly had the more appealing personality.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she answered, trying to be polite.

“Oh, I doubt that. I really do.”

She tried so hard to be nice to Darwin. It was almost a point of honor with her, but he was one of those perpetually unhappy people who twisted everything around and made it so difficult to be kind.

As both a natural-born and determined optimist, she struggled every time she had dealings with the man—which was at least two or three times a week when he came to her with some kind of beef about the city.

A Korean War combat vet, Darwin had recently become a widower. In the months since, he had become even more sour, if possible. Though arthritis gnarled his fingers and he relied on a cane for balance and support, he still somehow managed to keep his yard and house exquisite, without a stray leaf or overgrown branch.

She considered it one of life’s great mysteries that a man who seemed to be a festering pile of frustration could expend so much effort and energy into making his property into a restful oasis of blooms and trailing vines and sturdy, beautifully placed trees.

A mystery she would try to puzzle out another day, she told herself. She had a chicken breast to grill—after she dealt with whatever stick he had up his hindquarters today. Dealing with irate citizens was part of her description as mayor, like it or not.

“How can I make things better for you this evening?” she asked politely.

“How long have you had your name on the door at the mayor’s office in city hall?” he demanded.

“Six months, Mr. Twitchell.” Six difficult, stress-filled months. Why, again, had she ever thought this whole mayoral gig was a good idea? Oh, yes. Because she loved this town. Perhaps not every single inhabitant, though.

“Six months.” Darwin scowled. Or maybe he was beaming with happiness and glee. It was hard to tell, since all his facial expressions looked the same. “And how long have I been warning you about that bridge over the Hell’s Fury?”

The expression was a scowl, then. Not really a surprise.

She forced a smile. “Just about every week for the past six months, Mr. Twitchell.”

“I don’t know why I waste my breath. You obviously don’t care, since you haven’t done a damn thing about it since you’ve been in office.”

She tried not to let that sting, especially considering all the things she had accomplished in six short months. He was a lifelong resident of this town, one of her constituents, and she owed it to him to try to address his concern. As much as she wanted to hug his adorably grumpy-faced dog and walk away.

“The public works director is aware of the problem. We’ve talked to the state about it. It’s on the list. We’re waiting on a couple of grants and appropriations to come through. When that happens, it will be at the top of our list, I promise you.”

“When will that be?”

“I’m afraid I can’t tell you exactly. As I’m sure you’re aware, it costs a great deal of money for that kind of project. Right now the city cupboard is a little bare for a major infrastructure repair.”

“If this were Shelter Springs, we would have had a dozen new bridges by now. My nephew, the mayor, would never let things go this long.”

She had heard the same argument plenty of times over the past six months. According to Darwin, Mayor Martin of Shelter Springs could walk the entire length of Lake Haven without getting the cuffs of his tailored slacks damp.

“Now, Mr. Twitchell, we have our challenges, yes. But the people of Shelter Springs have their own.”

She would like at least one of their problems—more tax revenue than they knew what to do with.

Instead, her downtown was dead and most of the available property had been tied up for years by one man.

Ben Kilpatrick.

Just the thought of him made her grind her back teeth and grip Rika’s leash a little more tightly.

“You’d better do something about that bridge or there’s going to be trouble, mark my words,” Darwin grunted.

“I appreciate the advice, Mr. Twitchell,” she lied.

“And another thing. Garbage collection. That darn truck knocked over my can again for the third week in a row! Does that fool driver even know how to operate the thing?”

Apparently the mayor, by virtue of the office, was responsible for every single thing that went on within the city limits. Garbage collection was run by the county, as Mr. Twitchell fully knew.

“It might have something to do with the slope at the end of your driveway. It’s a little tricky to set the can down just so.”

“I don’t know why we ever had to switch over to those stupid automated trucks. Who can even pull those big cans out to the street, unless they’re a superhero or something? More trouble than it’s worth, you ask me.”

Who would ever be dim enough to ask Darwin Twitchell anything, unless he or she wanted to spend the rest of the day listening to his lengthy litany of complaints?

She drew in a deep breath, focusing on the scent of pine and lake instead of acrimony. Darwin was an object of pity. He had little to do but sit around and stew about everything wrong in his world, both globally and locally. The challenge of righting a tipped-over can probably represented all the things he could no longer do because of his age and physical limitations.

McKenzie forced a smile, trying her best to inject a little genuine compassion in it. “Next time the truck tips over your can when it’s done taking your garbage, please leave it. I’ll be happy to pick it up for you and roll it back to the house.”

He harrumphed at that and she knew he would never consider leaving his can tipped over all day, waiting until she could get to it. He was so particular, he raked the gravel out on his parking strip if anybody so much as left a bike tire trail through it.

“Just find a damn garbage truck driver who knows what the Sam Hill he’s doing. That’s all I ask. Nobody cares anymore about doing a good job. They’re all so busy on their computers, sending out nekked pictures of their whatsit.”

She almost laughed aloud—why didn’t anybody send her nekked pictures of their whatsit?—but she managed to contain it. “I’ll talk to the county public works supervisor and ask him to remind the garbage collectors to be a little more careful.”

“You do that. And take care of that bridge, too!”

He gripped his cane and made a sharp gesture to Petunia, who had the effrontery to be fraternizing with the enemy—or at least the enemy’s cinnamon poodle—then shuffled back up his driveway with the dog trotting behind him.

She sighed and continued on her way. She wouldn’t let one cranky old man ruin her enjoyment of this beautiful summer evening.

When she reached her lakeside house, however, she forgot all about Darwin and his perpetual complaints when she discovered a luxury SUV with California plates in the driveway of the house next to hers, with boat trailer and gleaming wooden boat attached.

Great.

Apparently someone had rented the Sloane house.

Normally she would be excited about new neighbors but in this case, she knew the tenants would only be temporary. Since moving to Shelter Springs, Carole Sloane-Hall had been renting out the house she received as a settlement in her divorce for a furnished vacation rental. Sometimes people stayed for a week or two, sometimes only a few days.

It was a lovely home, probably one of the most luxurious lakefront rentals within the city limits. Though not large, it had huge windows overlooking the lake, a wide flagstone terrace and a semiprivate boat dock—which, unfortunately, was shared between McKenzie’s own property and Carole’s rental house.

She wouldn’t let it spoil her evening, she told herself. Usually the renters were very nice people, quiet and polite. She generally tried to act as friendly and welcoming as possible.

It wouldn’t bother her at all except the two properties had virtually an open backyard because both needed access to the shared dock, with only some landscaping between the houses that ended several yards from the high water mark. Sometimes she found the lack of privacy a little disconcerting, with strangers temporarily living next door, but Carole assured her she planned to put the house on the market at the end of the summer. With everything else McKenzie had to worry about, she had relegated the vacation rental situation next door to a distant corner of her brain.

New neighbors or not, though, she still adored her own house. She had purchased it two years earlier and still felt a little rush of excitement when she unlocked the front door and walked over the threshold.

Over those two years, she had worked hard to make it her own, sprucing it up with new paint, taking down a few walls and adding one in a better spot. The biggest expense had been for the renovated master bath, which now contained a huge claw-foot tub, and the new kitchen with warm travertine countertops and the intricately tiled backsplash she had done herself.

This was hers and she loved every inch of it, almost more than she loved her little store downtown.

She walked through to the back door and let Rika off her leash. Though the yard was only fenced on one side, just as the Sloane house was fenced on the corresponding outer property edge, Rika was well trained and never left the yard.

Her cell phone rang as she was throwing together a quick lemon-tarragon marinade for the chicken.

Some days, she wanted to grab her kayak, paddle out to the middle of Lake Haven—where it was rumored to be so deep, the bottom had never been truly charted—and toss the stupid thing overboard.

This time when she saw the caller ID, she smiled, wiped her hands on a dish towel and quickly answered. “Hey, Devin.”

“Hey, sis. I can’t believe you’re holding out on me! Come on. Doesn’t your favorite sister get to be among the first to hear?”

She tucked the phone in her shoulder and returned to cutting the lemon for the marinade as she mentally reviewed her day for anything spill-worthy to her sister.

The store had been busy enough. She had busted the doddering and not-quite-right Mrs. Anglesey for trying to walk out of the store without paying for the pretty hand-beaded bracelet she tried on when she came into the store with her daughter.

But that sort of thing was a fairly regular occurrence whenever Beth and her mother came into the store and was handled easily enough, with flustered apologies from Beth and that baffled what-did-I-do-wrong? look from poor Mrs. Anglesey.

She didn’t think Devin would be particularly interested in that or the great commission she earned by selling one of the beautiful carved horses an artist friend made in the wood shop behind his house to a tourist from Maine.

And then there was the pleasant encounter with Mr. Twitchell, but she doubted that was what her sister meant.

“Sorry. You lost me somewhere. I can’t think of any news I have worth sharing.”

“Seriously? You didn’t think I would want to know that Ben Kilpatrick is back in town?”

The knife slipped from her hands and she narrowly avoided chopping the tip of her finger off. A greasy, angry ball formed in her stomach.

Ben Kilpatrick. The only person on earth she could honestly say she despised. She picked up the knife and stabbed it through the lemon, wishing it was his cold, black heart.

“You’re joking,” she said, though she couldn’t imagine what her sister would find remotely funny about making up something so outlandish and horrible.

“True story,” Devin assured her. “I heard it from Betty Orton while I was getting gas. Apparently he strolled into the grocery store a few hours ago, casual as a Sunday morning, and bought what looked to be at least a week’s worth of groceries. She said he didn’t look very happy to be back. He just frowned when she welcomed him back.”

“It’s a mistake. That’s all. She mistook him for someone else.”

“That’s what I said, but Betty assured me she’s known him all his life and taught him in Sunday school three years in a row and she’s not likely to mistake him for someone else.”

“I won’t believe it until I see him,” she said. “He hates Haven Point. That’s fairly obvious, since he’s done his best to drive our town into the ground.”

“Not actively,” Devin, who tended to see the good in just about everyone, was quick to point out.

“What’s the difference? By completely ignoring the property he inherited after his father died, he accomplished the same thing as if he’d walked up and down Lake Street, setting a torch to the whole downtown.”

She picked up the knife and started chopping the fresh tarragon with quick, angry movements. “You know how hard it’s been the last five years since he inherited to keep tenants in the downtown businesses. Haven Point is dying because of one person. Ben Kilpatrick.”

If she had only one goal for her next four years as mayor, she dreamed of revitalizing a town whose lifeblood was seeping away, business by business.

When she was a girl, downtown Haven Point had been bustling with activity, a magnet for everyone in town, with several gift and clothing boutiques for both men and women, restaurants and cafés, even a downtown movie theater.

She still ached when she thought of it, when she looked around at all the empty storefronts and the ramshackle buildings with peeling paint and broken shutters.

“It’s his fault we’ve lost so many businesses and nothing has moved in to replace them. I mean, why go to all the trouble to open a business,” she demanded, “if the landlord is going to be completely unresponsive and won’t fix even the most basic problems?”

“You don’t have to sell it to me, Kenz. I know. I went to your campaign rallies, remember?”

“Right. Sorry.” It was definitely one of her hot buttons. She loved Haven Point and hated seeing its decline—much like old Mrs. Anglesey, who had once been an elegant, respected, contributing member of the community and now could barely get around even with her daughter’s help and didn’t remember whether she had paid for items in the store.

“It wasn’t really his fault, anyway. He hired an incompetent crook of a property manager who was supposed to take care of things. It wasn’t Ben’s fault the man embezzled from him and didn’t do the necessary upkeep to maintain the buildings.”

“Oh, come on. Ben Kilpatrick is the chief operating officer for one of the most successful, fastest-growing companies in the world. You think he didn’t know what was going on? If he had bothered to care, he would have paid more attention.”

This was an argument she and Devin had had before. “At some point, you’re going to have to let go,” her sister said calmly. “Ben doesn’t own any part of Haven Point now. He sold everything to Aidan Caine last year—which makes his presence in town even more puzzling. Why would he come back now, after all these years? It would seem to me, he has even less reason to show his face in town now.”

McKenzie still wasn’t buying the rumor that Ben had actually returned. He had been gone since he was seventeen years old. He didn’t even come back for Joe Kilpatrick’s funeral five years earlier—though she, for one, wasn’t super surprised about that, since Joe had been a bastard to everyone in town and especially to his only surviving child.

“It doesn’t make any sense. What possible reason would he have to come back now?”

“I don’t know. Maybe he’s here to make amends. Did you ever think of that?”

How could he ever make amends for what he had done to Haven Point—not to mention shattering all her girlish illusions?

Of course, she didn’t mention that to Devin as she tossed the tarragon into the lemon juice while her sister continued speculating about Ben’s motives for coming back to town.

Her sister probably had no idea about McKenzie’s ridiculous crush on Ben, that when she was younger, she had foolishly considered him her ideal guy. Just thinking about it now made her cringe.

Yes, he had been gorgeous enough. Vivid blue eyes, long sooty eyelashes, the old clichéd chiseled jaw—not to mention that lock of sun-streaked brown hair that always seemed to be falling into his eyes, just begging for the right girl to push it back, as Belle did to the Prince after the Beast in her arms suddenly materialized into him.

Throw in that edge of pain she always sensed in him and his unending kindness and concern for his sickly younger sister and it was no wonder her thirteen-year-old self—best friends with that same sister—used to pine for him to notice her, despite the four-year difference in their ages.

It was so stupid, she didn’t like admitting it, even to herself. All that had been an illusion, obviously. He might have been sweet and solicitous to Lily but that was his only redeeming quality. His actions these past five years had proved that, over and over.

Through the open kitchen window, she heard Rika start barking fiercely, probably at some poor hapless chipmunk or squirrel that dared venture into her territory.

“I’d better go,” she said to Devin. “Rika’s mad at something.”

“Yeah, I’ve got to go, too. Looks like the Shelter Springs ambulance is on its way with a cardiac patient.”

“Okay. Good luck. Go save a life.”

Her sister was a dedicated, caring doctor at Lake Haven Hospital, as passionate about her patients as McKenzie was about their town.

“Let me know if you hear anything down at city hall about why Ben Kilpatrick has come back to our fair city after all these years.”

“Sure. And then maybe you can tell me why you’re so curious.”

She could almost hear the shrug in Devin’s voice. “Are you kidding me? It’s not every day a gorgeous playboy billionaire comes to town.”

And that was the crux of the matter. Somehow it seemed wholly unfair, a serious karmic calamity, that he had done so well for himself after he left town. If she had her way, he would be living in the proverbial van down by the river—or at least in one of his own dilapidated buildings.

Rika barked again and McKenzie hurried to the back door that led onto her terrace. She really hoped it wasn’t a skunk. They weren’t uncommon in the area, especially not this time of year. Her dog had encountered one the week before on their morning run on a favorite mountain trail and it had taken her three baths in the magic solution she found on the internet before she could allow Rika back into the house.

Her dog wasn’t in the yard, she saw immediately. Now that she was outside, she realized the barking was more excited and playful than upset. All the more reason to hope she wasn’t trying to make nice with some odoriferous little friend.

“Come,” she called again. “Inside.”

The dog bounded through a break in the bushes between the house next door, followed instantly by another dog—a beautiful German shepherd with classic markings.

She had been right. Rika had been making friends. She and the German shepherd looked tight as ticks, tails wagging as they raced exuberantly around the yard.

The dog must belong to the new renters of the Sloane house. Carole would pitch a royal fit if she knew they had a dog over there. McKenzie knew it was strictly prohibited.

Now what was she supposed to do?

A man suddenly walked through the gap in landscaping. He had brown hair, but a sudden piercing ray of the setting sun obscured his features more than that.

She really didn’t want a confrontation with the man, especially not on a Friday night when she had been so looking forward to a relaxing night at home. She supposed she could just call Carole or the property management company and let them deal with the situation.

That seemed a cop-out, since Carole had asked her to keep an eye on the place.

She forced a smile and approached the dog’s owner. “Hi. Good evening. You must be renting the place from Carole. I’m McKenzie Shaw. I live next door. Rika, that dog you’re playing catch with, is mine.”

The man turned around and the pleasant evening around her seemed to go dark and still as she took in sun-streaked brown hair, steely blue eyes, chiseled jaw.

Her stomach dropped as if somebody had just picked her up and tossed her into the cold lake.

Ben Kilpatrick. Here. Staying in the house next door.

So much for her lovely evening at home.

CHAPTER TWO

FOR A MOMENT, McKenzie could only stare at the man. It took her another minute before she could find her voice.

“This must be a record,” she finally said. “The Haven Point rumor mill actually nailed it, for once. You are back.”

Her sister was usually right but why did she have to be right about this, darn it?

Why was he here? She highly doubted he had come to make amends for all he had done. Judging by history, he was probably here to cause more trouble.

“Hello, McKenzie. Long time, and all that.”

He gave her an almost-smile, though she didn’t miss the rather bleak look in his blue eyes that made her suspect the rumor mill had something else right—Ben Kilpatrick wasn’t any happier to find himself back in Haven Point than she was.

Even with the dark shadows in his gaze, he was far more gorgeous than he’d been when she was a girl. That chiseled jaw was more, well, chisel-y, his eyes seemed more intense, his features masculine and strong.

The last time she had seen Ben in person had been at Lily’s funeral. The sudden realization sent a wave of remembered grief washing over her for her friend and his sister, one of the most courageous people she had ever met. Lily had lost her battle against cystic fibrosis the year they both turned thirteen.

She pushed away the echoing sadness. Lily had been gone a long time. As much as she might despise Ben, McKenzie could never fault him for his care of his sister. In all the years she had been friends with Lily, she had never seen Ben be anything but loving and kind with her, patient under very difficult circumstances.

She had a long list of other sins she could lay at his feet, however, starting with the abrupt way he had left town right after the funeral and taken her idealism and trust with him.

“I’d like to say I’m happy to see you, but I’ve never been a very good liar.”

“Oh, ouch.”

His mouth quirked up in a smile and he appeared more amused than offended.

She had a hundred accusations she wanted to hurl at him, years of helpless frustration as she watched her town die inch by inch.

Instead, she focused on what was really the least important of them all.

“Is this your dog?” she demanded.

“No. Okay. Yes. Sort of. This is Hondo.”

The dog’s tongue lolled out and he appeared to beam broadly at his name.

“Like the John Wayne movie?”

“I suppose. I didn’t name him.”

The dog nosed her hand in a friendly way but McKenzie only frowned, refusing to be charmed by anything associated with Ben. Unlike Rika, she had a few standards. “Is he your dog or isn’t he?”

“Technically, he’s mine, I guess. Until a few weeks ago, he belonged to a good friend. He died unexpectedly but stipulated in his will that I take him. I’m not sure why. It’s a temporary situation. Until I can find him a good home, I guess we’re stuck with each other.”

Naturally, he wouldn’t want to take any unexpected responsibility that had been thrust on him. Why ruin a perfect track record? It was a wonder he bothered to feed and water the dog, if his treatment of the property he inherited in Haven Point was any indication.

“He’s a beautiful dog. Unfortunately, the owner doesn’t allow pets at the vacation rental. I’m sure the property management company informed you of that fact. As usual, you probably think the rules don’t apply to you, right?”

His eyes widened a little at the direct frontal attack. Okay, she hadn’t meant to add that last bit. She probably should have tried for politeness first but the hostility had sort of slipped out.

“Actually,” he answered, a little stiffly, “when I was looking for a place to stay with Hondo while I’m in town, Carole was kind enough to make an exception to the no-pets rule.”

McKenzie could just bet Carole would make an exception. She had always liked the other woman and considered them good friends for the short time Carole had been her next-door neighbor before the divorce, but she knew Carole was eager to add another husband to her collection—even one several years younger than she. A man with an amazingly attractive portfolio would only sweeten the deal.

Not to mention that sinful mouth and eyes the same deep blue as Lake Haven on a calm August morning.

She frowned. She didn’t care about his sinful mouth, for heaven’s sake.

“I’ve discovered in the few weeks since Hondo here came to live with me that he isn’t crazy about hotels—and, quite frankly, vice versa. Since I’m not sure how long I’ll be in town, a vacation rental seemed the most logical option. The dock was definitely a bonus.”

“I saw the boat out front when I came home. It’s a Killy, isn’t it?”

His family’s boatworks had been famous across the world for making beautiful wooden boats. Many older models were considered classics and were highly sought by collectors for their tight construction and classic lines. In only a few days, Haven Point would be hosting its annual wooden boat festival as part of Lake Haven Days, when collectors came from all over to share their love for the elegantly crafted boats.

“Yes. The Delphine, named for my grandmother.”

The Delphine was one of the most expensive and hard-to-find of the older Killy models, she knew. While McKenzie wasn’t exactly an expert on the boatworks and its history or products, she had chaired the Lake Haven Days committee three years in a row at the request of the previous city administration and had come to know more than she ever expected about wooden boats and the passionate fans who adored them.

She never would have expected Ben to be the sentimental type, especially considering he was the one who made sure Kilpatrick Boatworks would never manufacture another Killy.

In one single afternoon five years earlier, he dealt a crippling blow to the town and his family’s legacy when he closed the factory and put two hundred people out of work.

She curled her fingers into fists at the reminder. How dare he show up in the town he had irreparably damaged, towing behind him bold and painful evidence of all he had taken away? Was he trying to rub everybody’s faces in it?

Grrr.

The words he had spoken suddenly penetrated the fog of anger around her.

I’m not sure how long I’ll be in town.

Was he talking days, weeks, months? All of it spent next door to her?

How would she endure it, when some heretofore unknown violent part of her wished she could drag him behind his family’s beautiful boat for two or three hours?

Having him next door was going to be torture. Her comfortable little house on the lake was her sanctuary. She desperately needed the calm oasis she found here on Redemption Bay, overlooking the raw, craggy mountains reflected in the vivid blue waters of the lake.

With him staying next door, she wouldn’t be able to relax for an instant. She would always be aware he was there, just a few shrubs away.

She couldn’t bear it.

Okay. Gloves officially coming off now. The idea that he had brought one of his family’s boats back to town to float in Lake Haven in front of everyone like some kind of taunt was the last straw. Why bother being polite?

“I’ll admit, I’m surprised to see you here. Last I heard, you despised Haven Point and never wanted to see the place again. You’ve certainly done your best to see us obliterated off the map.”

He frowned. “I never despised Haven Point. That’s a bit of an exaggeration, wouldn’t you say?”

“What else would you call it? You deliberately let the downtown fall into ruins.”

“I did?”

The jerk actually had the nerve to look surprised at the accusation.

“You must have driven through town on your way here. You had to have seen all the boarded-up buildings and vacant properties in your buildings.”

“Not mine now,” he pointed out. “Aidan Caine owns them.”

“For five years they were yours!” she exclaimed. “And for five years you did absolutely nothing to take care of them except hire a completely incompetent property manager, who robbed you blind along with the tenants of your buildings.”

He glowered at her, looking suddenly as dark and forbidding as thunderstorms over the Redemptions.

Rika whined a little and suddenly planted her haunches at McKenzie’s feet. McKenzie highly doubted Ben would pose any sort of threat to her but she appreciated the moral support, anyway.

“I might have been less...attentive than I should have been,” he said stiffly. “I’ve been a little busy the last few years. And, again, I haven’t owned the property since I sold everything to Aidan.”

“Regardless, the problem was created by you. Haven Point is practically a ghost town, with almost half of the businesses closing or relocating outside the city limits to Shelter Springs since Joe died. I’m the mayor of Haven Point. Did you know that?”

“I did not. Congratulations?”

“Condolences are more in order, thanks to you. It’s a rough job, especially with our constantly plummeting tax revenue. It kills me to know we could have a thriving, active downtown filled with shops, restaurants, hotels, entertainment—if the man who owned most of the real estate in this town hadn’t completely ignored his responsibilities for the last five years.”

His jaw clenched for only a moment before his features smoothed out. “Wow. This is an interesting way to welcome someone to your town. Go directly on the attack.”

She refused to feel guilty. He deserved every ounce of her hostility and more. “I’m very welcoming to newcomers, in general.”

“Just not to me.”

Could he honestly blame her? He had created a huge mess and even with Aidan’s cooperation now, she didn’t know how to help her town find its way out.

“Let’s be honest. You’re not my favorite person right now.”

“Message received, loud and clear, Mayor. I’ll try to stay out of your way while I’m here. That might be a touch difficult, considering we’re next-door neighbors and share a boat dock, but I’ll do my best.”

If it hadn’t been such a long day—and if she weren’t so darn angry at the man—she might have been able to muster a facsimile of politeness, but right now it didn’t seem worth the effort. “How long are you staying?”

“I’m not sure,” he hedged. “A week. Maybe two. Depends.”

On what? His mood? The moon cycle? The futures market?

Why was he here?

He didn’t seem inclined to be forthcoming about that particular question on his own and she couldn’t figure out a way to ask, especially considering she had just unloaded years of frustration on him.

His reasons for being here were none of her business, really. He could travel anywhere he wanted. She was the mayor, not some petty megalomaniac who could demand to see his papers once he crossed over her town boundary.

McKenzie fought the urge to press a hand to her suddenly shaky insides. She had never been very good at confrontations and now that the heat of this one with Ben had passed, she felt a little quivery and unsettled. At the moment, she only wanted to go home, lock the door, run a hot bath and try to pretend the past fifteen minutes never happened.

She certainly wasn’t going to bring her chicken breast out to the terrace to grill now. She would just have to sauté it or something, which wasn’t nearly as good.

Darn the man for ruining what had promised to be such a beautiful evening.

“Good night, then. I’ll do my best to keep Rika on my property.”

“I don’t mind her. I get the feeling the boundary between the houses has been fairly fluid. I see no reason to change that. She’s welcome over there.”

She nodded, but gripped her dog’s collar tightly so her poodle wouldn’t be tempted to go sniffing after Hondo again.

Cheap tart. Okay, so he was big and beautiful, with all those muscles. That didn’t make him good for her.

The dogs, of course. She was talking about the dogs.

“Come, Rika.”

After considerable effort, she managed to convince her dog to leave her new BFF and return to the house. The dog immediately plopped down onto her favorite spot on the rug in the sunroom.

Usually the room was McKenzie’s favorite of the house, too—but with those glass windows, she was entirely too aware of her new neighbor’s presence next door. She closed all the blinds before she turned around and marched into the kitchen.

Her hands were shaking and her knees felt as weak as the first time she had gone backcountry skiing with her friend Paulo and they had nearly been caught in an avalanche when a cornice above them had broken free.

They had managed to ski out of the path just in time. Right now, she didn’t feel as lucky as that day. She felt as if thousands of tons of snow and ice and rock had just tumbled over her head.

Ben Kilpatrick. Here, in Haven Point, after all these years, and tougher, harder, more sexy than ever.

Oh, she used to have such a crush on the man. It was humiliating, really, when she remembered how she had pined for him. He barely knew she was alive but she had watched him with almost stalker-like intensity. When she would visit Lily at Snow Angel Cove to bring her homework or hang out and talk about boys, McKenzie used to pray he would be there. She hoped every time that he would come into Lily’s room—which had become basically a hospital room in later months as her condition regressed—to check on her at some point during the visit.

When he did stop by, he barely noticed McKenzie. She knew that. He plainly adored his ill younger sister and probably didn’t know McKenzie existed.

He had been brooding and angry back then. Though she had never been quite sure why, she sensed the atmosphere at Snow Angel Cove hadn’t been exactly nurturing and warm. She had always liked his mother, Lydia, but Joe was a serious A-hole most of the time, cold and cruel, especially to Ben.

Why was he here? And why now? It was the worst possible timing. She was heading into her busiest few weeks of the year. Lake Haven Days, the boat show, the Fourth of July town celebrations. She didn’t expect to have five minutes to even breathe in the next week to ten days and now she had to worry about Ben Kilpatrick living next door.

It was enough to make a woman want to tear her hair out—or want to curl up in her bed under the blankets and pretend she didn’t have a business or a town to run.

* * *

AFTER THEIR NEIGHBORS went inside their house, Ben led Hondo next door. The dog immediately found a stick under the big birch tree, carried it to the water’s edge, then flopped down on his belly and started to chew it.

Ben watched him for a moment, then took a few more steps to a double swing overlooking the water just a few yards from the dock.

It was beautiful here. Wispy clouds encircled the tops of the Redemption Mountains and the setting sun painted them pink and coral and lavender, a scene perfectly reflected in the clear waters of the lake.

Because of the way the shoreline curved, he could see the lights of downtown begin to twinkle in the twilight and with a piercing cry, a red-tailed hawk suddenly soared from one of the tall pines that grew in such abundance around the lake, lending their crisp, tart scent to the scene.

Haven Point was an idyllic spot, really. How had he forgotten that over the years? Somehow he must have let the darkness and despair of his home life swallow the memory.

Yes, it was pretty. That didn’t make him any happier at being forced to come back.

He could have said no.

He wasn’t exactly an indentured servant. When Aidan asked him to take on this assignment after Marsh’s sudden fatal heart attack, Ben could have told him to kiss off, to send someone else at Caine Tech.

Yes, they were facing a top-level decision but he could have picked two or three others on his team or Aidan’s, people he trusted, who were likely to be more objective about Haven Point than he was.

It would have been the logical move—and Ben was nothing if not logical.

So why hadn’t he? Why was he here on a beautiful late-June evening gazing out at a couple of colorful wood ducks swooping in to land on the water?

He didn’t have a clear answer to that, even inside his own head. Something was tugging him back here and had been for some time. Closure, maybe? Some sense of unfinished business? He had left town so abruptly, the afternoon of Lily’s funeral, and he hadn’t been back since.

Whatever the reason drawing him to Haven Point, he was here now. Aidan had wanted him to take over for Marshall Phillips on this fact-finding assignment and Ben had agreed.

“I think it will be good for you to go back,” Aidan said three days earlier when he came to Ben’s house personally to ask him to come. “Take it from a man who survived a brain tumor. At some point in your life, before it’s too late, you have to grab your ghosts by the throat and tell them to back the hell off. The only way to do that is to face them head-on.”

He hadn’t seen the point in arguing with Aidan that he didn’t have ghosts, unless he were counting the painful memories of the younger sister he adored.

He didn’t hate Haven Point. It was merely a small, beautifully situated town where he had once lived—one he had intended to spend the rest of his life without ever stepping foot in again.

“Besides,” Aidan had continued with that logic that was always so damn hard for Ben to refute. “You were just saying how that Killy you’ve been working to renovate for the last year is done and ready for her maiden voyage. It seems fitting that you put her in the water for the first time at Lake Haven, where she came from.”

Through the well-landscaped shrubs and trees, he caught sight of a figure moving past the window of the pretty little lake house next door.

He wasn’t sure he would be able to tolerate living next door to Haven Point’s vociferous mayor, even for a few days.

He remembered McKenzie. Those long-lashed dark eyes in her dusky skin, the inky hair, the dimples, which tended to flash equally, whether she was angry or happy.

How could he forget her, when she had been Lily’s dearest and most loyal friend? While his sister’s other friends seemed to have dropped off the edge of the earth after her condition deteriorated and she was forced to curtail most activity outside Snow Angel Cove, McKenzie had come faithfully at least two or three times a week, bringing homework and goodies and movies for the two of them to watch.

Yeah, he had been a self-absorbed, angry teenager, just trying to survive living in his father’s house until he could graduate from high school and get the hell out. But even he had been able to see that McKenzie had made Lily’s last year far more bearable—even enjoyable—than it would have been otherwise.

He would have liked to be able to thank her for that—but considering her animosity toward him, he wasn’t sure she wanted to hear anything he had to say.

He inhaled deeply then let out a sigh. What had he expected? He had burned every bridge he’d ever crossed here and had walked away without looking back.

Now here he was again, fully aware that his history here with the people of this town—the difficult heritage he didn’t like to remember—would make the job much harder than it would have been for Marshall.

CHAPTER THREE

AFTER A RESTLESS NIGHT filled with very strange dreams involving a certain sexy billionaire, McKenzie rose before sunrise and headed outside, leaving a disgruntled Rika behind. She grabbed her kayak and paddle from the shed next to the lake then launched it from the dock.

The rim of the sun started to appear above the high peaks of the Redemptions as she paddled south along the shoreline through clear, quiet water.

Only a few hardy anglers shared the water with her but they were way out in the deep water of the middle, probably going after the huge lake trout that could be found there. She hardly noticed them as she stroked through tendrils of mist that curled off the water on these mountain mornings.

A few loons flapped their feathers and moved away from her as she paddled in their direction. To her left, a fish jumped, going after all the little morning bugs that skimmed across the surface, and in the pine trees offshore on the other side, she heard an owl hoot as he returned to bed after a night prowling the forests. Sometimes it seemed like a dream that she really had a life here—a good one, too, filled with good friends, responsibilities she did her best to tackle, a thriving business she loved.

Things could have turned out very differently for her, the child of an overworked single mother who struggled every day to care for both of them.

When she considered what could have happened to her if she had ended up in foster care in California after her mother died, she had to cringe.

Okay. Things here hadn’t exactly been perfect for her. She glanced at the shoreline, still in shadows as the sun continued its slow climb over the mountains. From here, she could see the house of her father and stepmother, where she had come to live when she was ten—a frightened, lost, grieving young girl.

Though nearly two decades had passed since the day Xochitl Vargas had arrived and been transformed slowly into McKenzie Shaw, she still felt the awkwardness of that first day when Richard had pulled into the driveway with her in the passenger seat of his BMW and her one suitcase of belongings in the trunk.

As uncomfortable as it had been for her, how much worse must it have been for her father, showing up in a small town like Haven Point with the half-Mexican love child he fathered with a paralegal during a business trip a decade earlier?

While it had taken her many years to come to this point, she had a more mature perspective now and could acknowledge the person who had been thrust in the most difficult situation—Adele, Devin’s mother and Richard’s wife.

She had opened her home and her family to the by-product of a brief affair her husband had during a difficult time in their marriage. Maybe she hadn’t been completely enthusiastic about the idea—or particularly warm and welcoming, for that matter, but she had done it.

McKenzie couldn’t really say she blamed her. What woman would have been thrilled at being forced to face the evidence of her husband’s infidelity every morning at the breakfast table?

Adele’s coolness had been more than offset by Devin and Richard. Devin had been thrilled to have a new sister—even one just two years her junior—and Richard had gone out of his way to make up for the ten years he had never known she existed.

She felt a pang at the thought of her father, gone three years now. She missed him so much sometimes and would have dearly loved to ask his advice a hundred times a day.

Some distance past her childhood home—where Devin lived alone now since her mother had moved away after Richard’s death—McKenzie pivoted the kayak around so she could paddle back home in time for work.

A few more boats had come out on the water by the time she made it back to Redemption Bay and reached the dock she shared temporarily with Ben. Even so, Lake Haven seemed quiet, serene.

Who could come here without feeling embraced by the beauty of the place?

Ben, probably. She frowned at the reminder as she hauled the kayak out of the water and carried it to the shed. He obviously hated it here—or why would he not have taken at least a passing interest in his holdings over the years?

As she headed out of the shed, she heard a low-throated bark and glanced over to the house next door just in time to see Ben and Hondo come out to the deck. The dog caught her attention first as he hurried down the deck steps to take care of what looked like urgent business. She smiled a little, then looked at Ben—and immediately wished she hadn’t.

He wore only jeans and his hair was damp, as if he had just stepped out of the shower. He held a mug of something steamy and as she watched, he took a sip, then lowered the mug and appeared to be enjoying the sunrise bursting over the mountains.

She stood gawking like an idiot, unable to look away. Her insides felt shaky and hot and she remembered suddenly some of those weird dreams she’d had about him, filled with heat and steam and hunger.

He must have sensed her presence—or, who knows, maybe she whimpered or something. To her great dismay, he glanced in her direction and after an extremely awkward moment that seemed to stretch and tug between them like the taffy Carmela Rocca sold in her store, he lifted a hand in greeting.

With sudden chagrin, she remembered she was wearing a skintight wetsuit—the only way she had found to truly enjoy chilly morning paddles around the lake—and that from his vantage point, he had an entirely unobstructed view of her too-generous curves.

It couldn’t be helped.

She nodded in response and then turned and walked with as much dignity as she could muster to her own house.

When she made it safely inside, she found Rika waiting by the door.

“Seriously?” she exclaimed to the dog. “You were out for fifteen minutes before I left. I can’t believe you need to go again.”

Her dog moved to the sunroom and whined, her attention solely focused on Ben’s German shepherd. Apparently Rika was smitten.

“I’ll let you out again in a minute—as soon as That Man lets his dog back in. You wouldn’t want to fraternize with the enemy, would you?”

Rika looked mournful, obviously disagreeing, but she gave a resigned sigh and plopped onto the rug.

As she expected, Rika hadn’t really needed to go out. When she saw the other dog was no longer in the yard, McKenzie opened the door but her dog only yawned and stretched out on the rug, just as if she hadn’t been sleeping for most of the past ten hours.

McKenzie showered and dressed, then grabbed Rika’s leash and the two of them took off into town.

By the time she reached downtown, she was brimming with energy from the walk and the early-morning paddle and hardly needed her usual coffee at Serrano’s but she and Rika stopped, anyway.

The small columned city hall on Lake Street might be the political apex of Haven Point, with the old city library next door serving as the literary hub, but Serrano’s, in its weathered redbrick building, was the social center of Haven Point.

The diner took up both stories of one of the downtown’s oldest buildings and was founded by the current owner’s great-grandparents, immigrants from Italy.

She tied Rika up in the small fenced grassy area Barbara Serrano and her husband had created just for visiting animals, then strolled through the glass door.

She loved walking inside the diner, that sense of slipping into an Old West time warp. From the mirrored wall behind the counter to the stamped-tin ceiling to the red leather chairs and old tables, Serrano’s likely wasn’t that different now than it had been a hundred years ago when it was founded. In the morning, the place smelled of pancakes, bacon and the best coffee in central Idaho.

Even more than the decor or the alluring scents, McKenzie loved the friendly welcome she always received when she walked inside.

A chorus of hellos rang out, almost as if people had spent hours practicing it together.

She waved to friends in general but made her way to the table of old-timers who had breakfast there each day, mostly to have somewhere to go and shoot the bull. She found them all completely adorable, BS and all, and always stopped to chat.

“Why, if it isn’t the prettiest mayor west of the Mississippi.”

“Morning, Ed.” She smiled at Edwin Bybee. He was just about the happiest guy in town, with a kind word to everyone. It was remarkable to her, especially considering he was fighting stage-four liver cancer.

“How are you this morning?” she asked after kissing him on his wrinkled cheek.

“Oh, I can’t complain. I’m still ticking, aren’t I?”

“Was that you out on the lake this morning?” his constant companion, Archie Peralta, asked her.

He used to be the manager of the grocery store but retired when she was still in high school. She had worked for him in her first job as a bagger and cart retriever and had a deep fondness for him.

“It was indeed.”

He gave a raspy laugh. “Thought so. That pink life jacket is a dead giveaway.”

She grinned. “I hope I didn’t scare the fish away.”

“The cutthroat biting this morning?” asked Paul Weaver, whose family had a small dairy farm on the outskirts of town.

“You’ll have to ask Archie here. He was the one with the line in the water that didn’t seem to be moving much. I was only kayaking.”

“Not this morning. They weren’t going after the bait,” Archie answered. “Don’t know why anybody would bother going out on the water without a fishing rod.”

“I’m only out there so I can watch you not catching anything,” she retorted, which made the whole table bust up.

She spent a few more minutes talking to the group and was about to go order her coffee and head to the store when Barbara Serrano headed over with a go-cup for her all ready.

No wonder she loved the woman.

“Is it true?” Barbara asked, holding the coffee just out of McKenzie’s reach as if they were playing a particularly cruel game of Monkey in the Middle.

“I don’t know. I hope not,” she answered automatically. “Is what true?”

“People have been talking all morning. Word is, Ben Kilpatrick is back in town.”

Instantly, the diner seemed to go deathly silent, as if somebody had flipped a switch. The comfortable buzz of conversation, the occasional laughter, even the clatter of silverware seemed to shut down as everybody in the vicinity stopped as if Barbara had just doused them all with McKenzie’s coffee.

“Kilpatrick. That son of a—” Ed bit off whatever harsh name he wanted to call Ben. His usually kindly, wrinkled face tightened into a scowl that shocked her, until she remembered that Ed as well as his only son had worked at the boatyard. After Kilpatrick’s closed its doors five years ago, Ed’s son and family had been forced to move away. She knew he lived in the Pacific Northwest along with Ed’s only grandchildren.

Folks here took the closing of the boatworks hard, especially those who had worked there and been displaced in a single afternoon after Joe Kilpatrick’s funeral.

“So is it true?” Barbara demanded. “Is he really back, after all this time?”

She sighed. “Yes. I can verify firsthand. Ben is in town. He showed up last night, renting Carole’s place next to mine.”

Conversation immediately started up again, animated and annoyed.

“Why is he back? What kind of trouble is he planning to stir up now?” Archie asked.

“How much more damage can he do?” Ed glared at McKenzie as if all this was her fault. That was the problem with being the mayor, she was finding. Everybody expected her to solve their problems, from a neighbor who watered his garden all night to a streetlight that had gone out.

“I don’t know why he’s here,” she confessed. “We only spoke for a moment last night. He did have an old Killy. Maybe he’s here in advance of the boat festival.”

It was a hollow explanation. She couldn’t see Ben hauling a boat from California to the hometown he hated just to show off what even she could tell had been a very fine watercraft.

“What model?” Ed asked. For the moment, he seemed to forget his animosity toward Ben. The people who had worked at the boatworks took great pride in their product—probably why Killy boats were still so sought-after these days.

“He mentioned it was a Delphine.”

“Oh, that is a fine boat,” Archie said, almost reverently.

“One of our best,” Ed agreed, in the same devout tones.

“I can’t see that the kind of boat the man owns matters a good gosh darn,” Barbara said. “I just want to know what he’s doing here with it.”

“I don’t know,” McKenzie admitted. “I can only promise you this. If he plans to cause more damage to this town than he already has, the jackass will have to get through me first.”

“Is that right?”

An instant too late, she realized all conversation in their vicinity had ground to a halt again. She turned at the familiar low drawl and of course, there he was standing just a few feet away. He looked gorgeous, wearing those jeans—buttoned up now—and a tailored polo shirt and fancy high-tech watch that could probably cover her entire mortgage.

The air inside the diner seemed to suddenly plummet thirty degrees, as if a January cold front had just blown across the lake.

No one seemed to know what to say—which she found as shocking as Ben’s presence here, since regulars usually had the opposite problem and never seemed to know when to shut up.

“Hello,” Ben said.

She cleared her throat, grateful the dusky skin she inherited from her mother didn’t show the heat she could feel soaking her cheeks. At least she hoped not.

“Um. Hi.” He knew she didn’t want him there, so she couldn’t see the point in showing outright hostility to the man. Okay, any more than she already had. “Everyone. You remember Ben Kilpatrick, I’m sure.”

Edwin opened his mouth to say something but Archie elbowed him in the ribs. While she would have liked to see them rip into Ben, this didn’t seem the time or the place—and she had a feeling that as resentful as everyone in town might be toward him for his negligence, most people were too well-mannered to throw it in his lap the first time they met.

“Hear you’ve got yourself a Delphine,” Archie said.

“I do. A 1965 model. She’s a beauty.”

“You restore her yourself?” Edwin asked.

“The easy parts. Mostly, I worked with a couple guys in the Bay area, who did the heavy lifting. I’m planning to put her in the water later today.”

“You want to keep an eye out for crevice corrosion. As I recall, the Delphine was prone to that.”

“I’ll do that. Thanks.”

“If you need a hand off-loading from your trailer, my grandson Jake works at the marina,” Paul said. “Don’t let the earring fool you. He’ll treat your Delphine like a newborn babe.”

Just once, she wished the residents of Haven Point weren’t so darn nice. This man had single-handedly turned a thriving community into a shadow of itself—but here was Ed, who had been directly impacted by Ben’s overnight decision to close the boatworks, giving him tips on the Delphine, for crying out loud, and Paul offering up his grandson’s help.

Was she the only one willing to fight the good fight?

“As I recall,” Ben said, “Serrano’s was always the best place in town for breakfast. Is that still the case?”

“Sure enough,” Archie answered.

“Try the Western omelet,” Paul said. “You can’t go wrong.”

“I never met a Serrano’s pancake I didn’t like,” Archie said.

Ben smiled. “Both sound good.”

“Why don’t you take a seat at the bar and you can see for yourself?” Barbara said.

“I prefer a table if you’ve got one free.”

“Sure. I can swing that. Looks like a nice one just opened up by the front window. Just over there.”

“I see it.”

McKenzie glared at her friend. She would have thought Barbara, at least, would be on her side. Why give the man the best table in the house?

“Menus are at the table and I’ll bring coffee in a minute.”

“Thank you. Mayor Shaw. Can you join me for a moment? I need a quick word.”

She could think of several words she would be happy to give him, free of charge, but she forced herself to remain calm.

Out the window, she could see Rika, who looked perfectly content, flopped onto her belly in a small patch of sunlight, watching the cars go past on Lake Street. “I’m in a rush, but I can spare a moment.”

She followed him to the booth, trying not to notice the broad shoulders tapering down to a narrow waist. It seemed wrong, somehow. He was a tech geek businessman, right? He ought to be pale, hunched over and asthmatic, not brimming with tanned athletic grace.

An image popped into her mind of him that morning on his terrace wearing only those jeans, masculine and relaxed. She swallowed hard. She really needed to get out more. Her friends were always trying to set her up with a grandson here, a cousin there. Maybe she needed to stop fighting the would-be matchmakers and give in, once in a while.

She slid into the booth across from him, noting the lovely view of the lake and the mountains from here. She never got tired of looking at those calming blue waters.

“You’re an early riser,” he said.

She felt that heat rising on her features again and was grateful again he couldn’t see her discomfort. “Wasting a beautiful June morning here is nothing short of criminal, as far as I’m concerned.”

His mouth twitched a little. When he didn’t quite make it into a full-fledged smile, she told herself the little clutch in her stomach couldn’t possibly be disappointment. “Have you made a law against that, Mayor?”

“Not yet. I’ll add it to the next town council agenda.” She refused to be drawn to him. Everyone else might roll over like Rika for a good long belly scratch, but not her.

“I have to go open my store,” she said shortly. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

“You want to know why I’m back in Haven Point. I thought about it overnight and decided it’s only fair to tell you.”

Ah. Finally. “I agree. We have the right to know, especially if you’ve come to town to figure out some other way to drive our economy into the ground.”

He frowned. “I’m beginning to find that accusation and your hostile attitude more than a little tiresome.”

“I’m so sorry,” she said with a forced sweetness that made her teeth ache as if she’d just eaten an entire bag of that taffy she was thinking about earlier. “I guess something about you brings out the worst in me.” Could be the lasting damage you’ve done to my town, but that might be just a guess. “Go on. Tell me why you’re here.”

He sighed. “I didn’t expect to ever return but apparently I have a tough time saying no to some people.”

“Aidan Caine.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Did he contact you to let you know I was coming?”

“A lucky guess. You’re the chief operations officer of Caine Tech and Aidan’s right-hand man. Aidan just bought half the town. Aidan and his wife-to-be, Eliza, have wonderful taste and both love Haven Point—unlike some people I won’t mention—and they’ve been working to revitalize it. Suddenly, you show up, obviously not happy about being here. I connected the dots. What did Aidan ask you to do?”

A muscle worked in his jaw. He glanced around Serrano’s. If not for her own tension, she might have found it amusing how heads swiveled back to their meals as if everybody in the place wasn’t watching him covertly—and some not even bothering with that.

He angled slightly toward the window, away from the other diners, and leaned forward, speaking in a low voice that forced her to incline forward as well, until their heads were just inches apart, far more intimate than she was completely comfortable with.

Up close, he smelled of toothpaste and some kind of expensive soap, woodsy and masculine and delicious.

Not that she noticed.

“This is a delicate situation and one that requires total discretion, as I’m sure you can understand. Unfounded rumors only stir the pot to overflowing and generally end up making a big mess.”

“What sort of rumors should I have heard?”

“Nothing, I hope,” he said. “I would like to keep it that way. Please don’t share what I’m about to tell you with anyone. Not the town council, not your executive staff.”

Which consisted of Anita Robles, her personal assistant at city hall and the real driving force behind the town. She supposed Dale Pierson, the public works director, might count as executive staff, but that was about it.

“Fine. I won’t say anything,” she said.

He studied her as if trying to gauge whether she meant it. Finally, he nodded. “The truth is, Caine Tech is expanding into a couple fresh areas and we have need of a new facility that would employ about three hundred people. Aidan is pushing to move those operations to Haven Point.”

Her brain seemed to stall on “employ” and “three hundred people.” Jobs. An economic base beyond tourism. That was exactly what Haven Point needed. It could mean new housing, stores, restaurants.

Bless Aidan and his sweet fiancée. If Eliza had been there, McKenzie would have smooched her right on the lips.

As it was, she almost smooched Ben, since he was only a few inches away—until her brain kicked in again and she remembered exactly who sat across the table from her.

Her burgeoning excitement popped as if he had just blasted it with a shotgun. Very carefully, she eased away a little and entwined her fingers together in her lap. “Aidan asked you to come here,” she said slowly. “In what capacity?”

He glanced out at the others in the restaurant then back at her. “Call it a fact-finding mission. In two weeks, I’m supposed to report to Aidan and the board of directors with a cost-benefit analysis of placing our new facility in Haven Point.”

Just as she suspected. Her stomach dropped. So much for all those beautiful jobs and families and dreams of prosperity.

“Why would he send you? Aidan can’t possibly think for a moment you’re capable of offering an objective opinion,” she hissed. “You hate it here with a passion.”

“Hate is a strong word. I don’t hate Haven Point. I’m indifferent. There’s a big difference.”

“Fine. You’re passionately indifferent, though I don’t know how it’s possible not to love it here. Haven Point is a beautiful place filled with good, hardworking people who care about this town and about each other.”

He leaned back in his seat. “That may be true but I can’t see that as a basis for investing millions in a new facility here. I’ll be honest. I see real problems with Haven Point. For one thing, the distance to a major airport is a real concern. Boise is almost two hours away. It’s fine for Aidan, who has his own private jet, but everybody else will have to travel here from Boise. Then you’ve got the matter of your inadequate infrastructure and few housing opportunities. All are negatives.”

“Are there any positives?”

He remained stubbornly silent and she wanted to point out a hundred wonderful things about her town. Besides the kind neighbors and beautiful surroundings, she could have cited the relatively low cost of living, the well-educated population, the favorable tax conditions.

“I see,” she said when his silence stretched out. “That’s clear enough.”

“It’s a very pretty lake town, McKenzie, but when it comes to business decisions, that can’t be enough. From my perspective, the negatives outweigh the positives. But I’m here and I’m keeping an open mind.”

She doubted that was possible for him but she didn’t see the point in arguing.

“Thank you for telling me.”

“It seemed only fair. I should also let you know, part of my responsibility here is to study the possibility of placing the facility in Shelter Springs. It’s larger, with better infrastructure and a bigger existing real estate market and commercial base. If we did that, Haven Point would probably see some trickle-down positive impact.”

The waitress was heading in their direction and she used that as an excuse to jump from the booth. “I’ve got to go so I can open my store. Thank you for telling me why you’re really here. I guess it’s good to know what we’re up against. You’re going to change your mind. Mark my words. After you spend a week in Haven Point, you’ll have no choice but to see we’re the clear winner among all your contenders.”

She had no idea how she was going to prove that to him, but she darn well intended to try.

CHAPTER FOUR

BEN WASN’T AT ALL SURE he liked that sudden militant gleam in the mayor’s lovely dark gaze as she looked at him.

“I admire your confidence,” he murmured. He considered it completely misguided and without merit, but he appreciated her determination and her loyalty.

“You’ll see,” she repeated, then grabbed her go-cup off the table and turned around and headed for the door.

He hated to disappoint her but he truly felt as if Haven Point was the weakest of the contenders. He intended to make a decision based on logic and reason. He was doing his best to keep an open mind but it wasn’t easy.

He had offered up the town’s greatest shortcomings, from his perspective. What he hadn’t told her was that everywhere he looked in Haven Point, the past seemed to crowd him.

Being here again left him itchy, on edge. All the dark, ugly memories he thought he had firmly and succinctly dealt with long ago seemed to be creeping back to life, like skeletal, decomposing fingers suddenly poking over the side of an opened grave.

The waitress reached him finally. She poured coffee without asking and pulled out a notebook. “Have you decided yet?” she asked, her tone just shy of belligerent.

She looked familiar, a woman about his age and on the plump, comfortable side. Her name tag read Sharon and he suddenly placed her. Sharon Lowell. She had been in his grade and had dated one of his friends.

“Hi, Sharon. Good to see you again.”

“Likewise.” She offered a smile that didn’t look close to genuine. It took him a moment to remember her brother and father had both worked at the boatworks.

McKenzie Shaw wasn’t the only one in town who hated him. He wasn’t used to that but he supposed he couldn’t really blame them. Closing Kilpatrick Boatworks had been a necessary but difficult decision, when the business was steadily losing hundreds of thousands of dollars a year.

“Have you had time to look at the menu or do you need a few more minutes?”

“I’m ready. I believe I’ll have a Greek omelet and a side of whole wheat toast.”

“Right. You want hash browns or anything?”

“No. Just the eggs and toast.”

“Got it.” She nodded and walked away without even bothering to make the customary server small talk.

As soon as she left, he once more became conscious of all the gazes aimed in his direction, some simply curious, others openly hostile.

It was awkward all the way around. He and Aidan both should have expected this. He was apparently the least popular person in Haven Point.

At least in one respect, he was carrying on his father’s legacy.

After looking out the window for a while at the desultory traffic passing by, he turned to the reliable diversion of his cell phone and started scrolling through and answering messages and emails.

After a few moments, a voice intruded into his digital distraction.

“Ben! I thought that was you.”

He looked up and knew the man instantly, though he hadn’t seen him in years. Probably not since Lily’s funeral, when he had left Haven Point.

Dr. Russell Warrick, their family’s longtime physician, was still handsome, though in his late fifties. He had brown hair threaded with gray, warm blue eyes and a trim, athletic build.

Lily had quite simply adored the man. As far as Ben’s younger sister had been concerned, Dr. Warrick could do no wrong.

He had always been so calm and patient with her, Ben remembered, even in those difficult last days of hospice.

He stood up and held out his hand. “Dr. Warrick. Hello.”

“Wow. It’s great to see you, son! It’s been far too long since you’ve been back this way.”

He couldn’t say he agreed but he smiled anyway, remembering a hundred different kindnesses over the years.

He gestured to the table across from him. “Join me, won’t you?”

“I just finished but I’ll sit for a moment to catch up. I’m due at the hospital for rounds but not for a while yet.”

“How are you?” Ben asked when the physician sat down. “How’s your family?”

Warrick had two sons, one a few years younger than Ben and another who had been around Lily and McKenzie’s age.

“The boys are good. They both live in Boise and between the two have given me three beautiful grandchildren.” He paused and sadness slanted across those blue eyes. “You may not have heard but I lost my wife a year ago.”

He remembered the other woman as kind and matronly. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”

“She was a good woman and I miss her every day, even a year later. I try to stay busy but, well, you know. I have cut back, though. I’ve taken on a go-getter young partner and she’s doing most of the work these days. You may remember her from school, though I think she was a bit younger than you. Devin Shaw.”

McKenzie’s half sister, he recalled. He had never known her well but he remembered her as being scary-smart.

“So how long are you back in town?” Warrick asked him.

“I’m not sure,” he hedged. “A week, maybe. Ten days.”

“You’re still working with Aidan at Caine Tech?”

“I am.”

“He’s a good man,” Warrick said with a smile.

Ben still found it odd that his best friend had a life here that he loved. It was more than a little surreal that the world where he had lived his first seventeen years had merged with the world he had created since leaving—and he still felt more than a little guilty about selling Aidan his holdings here.

If he’d had any idea Aidan had a brain tumor when the other man offered an exorbitant amount for Snow Angel Cove and his commercial holdings in Haven Point, Ben never would have agreed to the deal. The whole situation still left a bad taste in his mouth, even though he had sold the property for far less than market value.

In the end, Aidan had come out ahead—as he usually did—but Ben knew the other man never would have even made an offer for property in this obscure corner of Idaho if the tendrils of a benign tumor hadn’t been pressing on key decision-making areas of his brain at the time.

After Aidan’s diagnosis, Ben had tried to back out of the deal and invalidate the sale but Aidan refused to let him. For reasons Ben still didn’t understand, Aidan had fallen for this place and for Snow Angel Cove.

“You’ve done well for yourself with Caine, haven’t you?” Warrick said.

“He’s a good man,” he answered.

From their first encounter when Caine Tech was just a start-up like thousands of others in Silicon Valley, they had clicked. They made a damn good team. Aidan was inarguably the tech wizard behind the success of the company but Ben liked to think he was the business genius.

“I could always tell you had big things ahead of you,” Warrick said, with an odd note in his voice that almost sounded like pride.

Ben didn’t know quite how to answer that so he remained silent.

“Your mother must be thrilled to have you back in town, even if it’s only for a few weeks.”

The band of tension around his shoulders seemed to ratchet a notch tighter. “I haven’t had the chance to tell her,” he said curtly. “I don’t believe she’s around, anyway. Last I heard she was going to Tuscany.”

He should have called her, anyway. The moment he gave in and agreed to come to town on this assignment, he should have dropped her an email. Technically, Lydia lived in Shelter Springs—well, she had a condo there anyway, purchased after Big Joe died, but she lived there only in the summer months. Most of the time, she lived in the San Diego area, near one of her sisters, where she had moved after the divorce.

He wasn’t estranged from his mother. They spoke on the phone or emailed weekly but theirs was a strained relationship.

Though he might tell himself he was over the past, he could never quite forgive his mother for the choices she made and he supposed that was the reason he preferred a casual, superficial relationship between them. Over the years, she had given up trying to forge a closer bond.

Dr. Warrick gave him a long, thoughtful look. “Shelter Springs is only a ten-minute drive, son. If she’s in town, I’m sure she would love to see you.”

He didn’t want to be rude to the man but he also didn’t particularly care to discuss with him the complicated relationship he and his mother shared. Especially not in a crowded diner.

“I’m sure you’re right,” he said in a noncommittal way.

The doctor seemed to sense he had overstepped. He gave a kindly smile and stood up.

“I should probably head to the hospital. Injured and sick people aren’t always the most patient people on earth. Pun intended.”

Ben forced a smile. “Good to see you,” he said. It was the truth. Russell Warrick was at least a friendly face in a town that didn’t seem very inclined to look favorably at his return.

Warrick studied him with that intense expression he sometimes wore when he looked at Ben. “I would love a chance to catch up more while you’re in town. Maybe we could arrange dinner sometime.”

“I would enjoy that,” Ben answered. “I’m staying in a rental on Redemption Bay. The old Sloane house.”

“I know it. Perfect. I’ll drop by one day soon so we can make arrangements.”

The doctor reached out a hand and shook Ben’s. “Good to see you, son. I mean it.”

With another of those kindly smiles, he walked out, leaving Ben alone with his memories and a restaurant full of people who didn’t want him there.

* * *

RUSS WALKED OUT of the diner into the beautiful blue of an Idaho summer morning feeling shaky, off balance at the unexpected encounter. He walked a few dozen steps on autopilot, then turned into the small alley next to the restaurant used by delivery trucks. When he was sure no one could see him, he rubbed a hand over the ache in his chest.

Lydia’s quiet, thoughtful boy had grown into a tall, handsome man. A man any parent would be proud of.

But, oh, the shadows in those blue eyes.

When he woke that morning and decided to grab a bite to eat at Serrano’s before work, he never expected to find Ben drinking coffee and looking out at the lake.

How could he have? As far as he knew, Ben hadn’t been back since the day of his sister’s funeral.

He stood, lost in indecision, while the lake sparkled in the distance and the peaks of the Redemption Mountains gleamed white in the sunlight with snow that hadn’t melted yet.

This had been easier when his wife was still alive. Joan had provided a necessary buffer, somehow, to keep him from doing something stupid.

She was gone now, bless her. After a year, he was finally learning to make his way without her, one baby step at a time.

Perhaps it was time he took a giant step into the unknown and finally faced all the murky secrets of the past.

He picked up his cell phone. A quick web search revealed the number he had purposely avoided looking up for a year.

He was ridiculously aware that his palms were sweating as he selected “call” on the phone options.

It rang four times. Just before he was certain the call would go to voice mail, a slightly breathless voice answered. “Hello?”

He swallowed. “Lydia. Hello. It’s Russ Warrick. Is this a bad time?”

After a long, awkward pause, she spoke again, clear surprise in her voice. “Russ. Hello. No. No. It’s not a bad time. I was in the middle of yoga.”

He tried not to picture her, limber and prettier at fifty-four than she had ever been.

“Sorry to interrupt. You can call me back when your class is over.”

“No class. Just a video at home. I paused it. Really, this is fine. Is something wrong?”

“Why would you say that?”

“I haven’t talked to you in forever,” she said calmly. “You’re not a man who calls out of the blue just to chat.”

That was true enough. He had stayed away from her on purpose, hadn’t called her once since Joanie died, even though he had been tempted a hundred times.

This was a stupid idea, he thought. Her relationship with Ben was none of his business. She was none of his business. But stupid or not, he had called her and couldn’t just make an excuse now and hang up.

“Nothing’s wrong, exactly. I had some information I thought might interest you.”

“Oh?”

“I just bumped into Ben at Serrano’s.”

“Ben? My Ben?”

The singular pronoun sent pain clutching his heart. “Yes. Your Ben. I thought you might want to know.”

Her tone shifted from shock to crisp disbelief. “That’s impossible. I’m sure you’ve made a mistake. Ben will never come back to Haven Point. He’s made that abundantly clear.”

“No mistake. I spoke with him for a good ten minutes.” A wonderful ten minutes. It had been so very long, he had absorbed every word, memorized each mannerism and vocal tone. “He’s in town to help Aidan Caine with a project. Apparently he’ll be here for a few weeks. I thought you might want to know.”

“What makes you think I didn’t already know?” she asked in a haughty tone. The essence of Lydia, bristly and distant on the outside but so very vulnerable beneath all the layers.

“Your reaction just now was a good giveaway.” He fought hard to keep the dryness out of his tone. “He also seemed reluctant when I suggested he call you.”

“So you thought you would step in to make things right between us by calling me, anyway. How very helpful of you.”

Her hostility stung, though it wasn’t unexpected. Lydia had erected a wall between them long ago, so high and so wide one would never guess they’d once been best friends...and much more.

“I’m sorry I bothered you,” he said stiffly. “I know if my son were in town, I would want to know.”

She didn’t answer for a long moment, a silence thick and murky with secrets. Why wouldn’t she tell him the truth, even after all these years?

“I’m sorry,” she finally said, her voice subdued. “You’re right. I’m a bear today. I think it’s the low pressure system coming in. It’s left me edgy. I was hoping the yoga would help center me. Perhaps I’d better get back to it. Thank you for telling me, Russell. You’re right. I do want to know. I doubt Ben would have called to tell me himself, even though he knows I’m in the area for the summer. I appreciate that you stepped in.”

“You’re welcome.”

He should say goodbye but he didn’t want to hang up. Not yet. A cool and distant Lydia was better than nothing.

“How are you doing?” she asked after a moment. “I’ve been wondering.”

She sounded genuinely interested, which was more than most people did when they asked that question. His standard response was to say he was fine then deflect the inquiries with a change in topic but that didn’t seem right with Lydia.

Somehow there seemed more freedom here on the phone, when she wasn’t standing in front of him with those deep green eyes.

He looked out at the lake, silvery in the sunlight. “It’s been a year and a few weeks now,” he answered, his voice low. “I’m done with all the firsts now. First Christmas without her, first birthday, first wedding anniversary. There’s an odd sort of relief in that, you know? In making it through. I believe I’m finally starting to get used to coming home to a quiet house.”

“I’m so sorry, Russell,” she said, her tone soft and rich with empathy.

“Thank you. You know a little about loss yourself.”

“More than I’d care to. Yes. The first year was definitely the hardest after Lily died. I remember the first time I laughed again at a joke on a television show. I felt so terribly guilty afterward, I cried myself to sleep. But then I began to find more and more things to smile about and realized my life wasn’t over, just different.”

“Yes. That’s it exactly. It’s a perspective shift. I’m still finding my way but at least I don’t feel like I’m floundering through quicksand anymore.” He appreciated that she was willing to push beyond the usual platitudes and the superficial sympathy.

“I know I said it at the funeral but I truly am sorry for your loss. Joan was a wonderful woman.”

“Thank you. She was.” In light of the direction the conversation had taken, he thought perhaps he should just say goodbye and hang up, but it felt so very good to talk to her. He didn’t want it to end.

“The hardest thing for me is eating alone. Would you...go to dinner with me sometime?”

Silence met his question and his palms seemed suddenly sweaty. Lord. Why was this so much harder at fifty-seven than it had been at seventeen?

“Yes,” she finally said. “Yes, I think I would like that very much.”

The sun suddenly seemed blinding off the water. “Great. Perfect. What about Sunday? There’s a concert at the park afterward, if you’d like to go. Bluegrass, apparently.” He wouldn’t have known that except he was staring right at the poster on the wall outside the diner.

“Why don’t we start with dinner, then we can go from there.” She sounded overwhelmed suddenly, as if she regretted agreeing to go. He wondered if this was as awkward for her as for him.

“Dinner is a good start. A very good start. I’ll see you then.”

And with luck, he would find a way to see Ben before then, too, one more time—and maybe finally, after all these years, together they could pull back the lid containing all the secrets between them.

CHAPTER FIVE

MCKENZIE GAZED AROUND her workroom at the women gathered there.

Her troops.

Her sister, Devin, sat next to Megan Hamilton, who owned the inn that had burned down last year, and across from Lindy-Grace Keegan, McKenzie’s right hand at the store. All around the battered table in the workroom of Point Made Flowers and Gifts sat her dearest friends, the other members of the Haven Point Helping Hands.

Her heart swelled as she gazed at their beautiful faces. One urgent phone call, that’s all it had taken, and she had fifteen women willing to drop everything on a busy Saturday morning to see what they could do to help.

Hazel Selby Brewer and her sister Eppie had obviously been playing tennis, at least judging by their matching white skirts and short-sleeved sweaters that showed off their knobby knees, varicose veins and age spots. Though a year apart—Irish twins, they always informed people proudly—they dressed almost identically. The two were inseparable and had even married twin brothers—though since Hazel’s husband, Donald, died two years earlier, Eppie’s husband, Ronald, had taken over escorting both women around town.

Hazel and Eppie wore their wrinkles well. They were the oldest of the Helping Hands at eighty-three and eighty-two. The youngest, Samantha Fremont and her best friend, Katrina Bailey, were in their early twenties. They dressed in short shorts and tight T-shirts and both looked a bit hungover, as if they’d partied a little too late on Friday night at the Mad Dog, which had featured a live band the night before.

In between the two ends of the spectrum were housewives, a real estate agent, a couple of teachers. They weren’t particular about who could come to the Helping Hands meetings.

She loved every single one of them.

McKenzie drew in a deep breath that smelled of flowers and raffia and sage. “Thank you all for coming to meet with us. I know everybody is crazy busy right now, especially on a summer Saturday with Lake Haven Days in less than a week. I hardly have time to take a shower most days, and I imagine it’s the same for all of you. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate each one of you for dropping everything and coming for this impromptu meeting.”

“What’s going on?” Linda Fremont demanded. “Marie wouldn’t tell me anything.”

“Because I don’t know anything,” Marie Caldwell said in a testy tone. “All I heard from Hazel was that Kenzie had called an emergency meeting and it was all hands on deck. That’s the message I got and the message I passed along.”

“It had better be important,” Linda Fremont said, her features as sour as ever. “I need to be at the store. This is one of our busiest days of the summer.”

McKenzie gave a patient smile. Linda didn’t need to be there, since her daughter Samantha had come as well and could have passed along any message—but then Linda would have had to miss something, which she would have found intolerable.

“This won’t take long, I promise.” She tried her best to be sweet to Linda, even when the woman was at her most annoying. Which was quite often, unfortunately.

“I think I can guess what this is about,” Barbara Serrano said. “Does it have anything to do with our unexpected visitor and your companion at the diner this morning?”

Only a few people looked confused—but that was still a few more than McKenzie had expected. She had anticipated the news of Ben’s return would have already spread through Haven Point like a late-October frost, touching everything in its path.

“Who was it?” Sam Fremont asked, blue eyes widening with interest. “Are you dating somebody, Kenz?”

“No! Absolutely not! Anyway, why would I call an emergency meeting to tell you all about my date?”

“Breaking news?” Devin asked.

She glared at her sister. “It wasn’t a date. I can’t believe you all haven’t heard this already, but, okay. Here it is. Ben Kilpatrick is back in town.”

This caused a minor stir. Sam and Kat gaped at each other, probably trying to figure out how they had missed the news that a gorgeous billionaire bachelor was suddenly in their humble midst. Hazel and Eppie also looked shocked. Other than that, most of the women wore expressions ranging from curiosity to disgruntlement to outright anger.

“Betty Orton came into the store this morning and told me but I didn’t believe it.”

“Why didn’t you say anything, Mom?” Sam demanded.

“I just said, I didn’t believe it. What’s the point of passing along gossip without a shred of proof?” she said. McKenzie almost rolled her eyes. Linda delighted in sharing any tidbit she heard and rarely bothered to authenticate any of it.

“It seemed impossible to me and that’s what I told Betty. How can he dare show his face here after what he’s done to this town?” Linda glowered.

“I’ll admit I was pretty surprised, too, when he sauntered into the diner this morning like the cock of the walk.”

“Oh, he was always such a polite boy,” Hazel exclaimed. “And so handsome. Remember how handsome he was, Eppie?”

Eppie beamed. “Oh, yes. I remember, with those brooding blue eyes. Like a young Paul Newman in From the Terrace.”

“Oooh, I loved that movie,” her sister exclaimed.

“Is he still as handsome, Mayor?” Eppie asked.

“Well, yes, Eppie dear. But that’s not the point.”

“What does he want?” Linda Fremont demanded. “Let me guess. He and Aidan are going to raze the whole downtown and build a golf course.”

“What?” Hazel exclaimed. “That’s not right! We don’t need a golf course! Shelter Springs already has one. That would be just plain crazy!”

“We could take up golf next, Hazel,” Eppie protested. “I think it would be fun.”

Okay, she dearly loved all these women and they had been amazingly sweet to her over the years but sometimes during these meetings, McKenzie felt as if she was trying to grab hold of a whole herd of greased piglets.

Did piglets run in herds?

She pushed away the stupid random thought. “Nobody is building a golf course, I promise. Look, our time is limited here. Lindy-Grace and I have a busy Saturday ahead of us and I know the rest of you do, too. Let’s try to stay focused so we can all get back to it. The truth is, as much as I would like to, I can’t tell you exactly what Ben is doing here—I don’t know specifics anyway and he’s asked me to keep what little I do know to myself.”

“Then what’s the point of calling a meeting if you’re going to be Miss Locked Lips?” Marie demanded.

“The truth is, I need your help. I know you all love Haven Point as much as I do. None of us is happy about what’s happened here the last five years. This has been a dark time for us.”

Because of what she intended to ask, she was careful not to remind them the town had suffered mostly because Ben had ignored his responsibilities and let the downtown fall into disrepair.

“This is our chance to turn things around,” she went on. “Aidan and Ben are considering something that might improve things around here. That’s all I can say about it right now. Trust me, this would be very good for us.”

“What do you need us to do?” Ever wise, her friend Julia Winston, one of the librarians at the Haven Point library, struck to the heart of the matter.

She sighed, looking around the assembly of her dearest friends. “This is difficult for me to ask. I know how you all feel about Ben. I share your feelings, believe me.”

“You mean, you think he’s hotter than a billy goat with a blowtorch?” Hazel asked.

Eppie laughed and so did just about everybody else in the room, even Devin. McKenzie felt her face heat, finding it extremely difficult to be appropriately mayoral and dignified around this crowd.

“Okay, first of all, how hot can a billy goat with a blowtorch really get? And why does he have a blowtorch in the first place? But that’s not the point, is it? No. The point is, it’s extremely important that while Ben is here, we work very hard to show Haven Point in the best possible light.”

“How do you propose we do that?” Devin asked.

“That’s where I need your help. I need some ideas about how we can prove to him that this town is warm and neighborly, that he won’t find a better place anywhere in the mountain west.”

“I think we need to kill the man with kindness, even when we want to strangle him,” Lindy-Grace suggested.

“Excellent. Excellent. If you see him on the street, stop and say hello. Show him genuine interest. Be neighborly and welcoming.”

“That would have been easier if he hadn’t made such a mess of things,” Marie protested.

“If it were easy, I wouldn’t have to call an emergency meeting and beg you all to help me,” McKenzie said.

“You don’t have to beg,” Eppie said. “Hazel and I will be nice to him—so nice, he’ll think he’s died and gone to heaven and has two wrinkly old angels at his beck and call.”

Oh, gosh. That was an image she didn’t need. “Don’t overdo, ladies. Just be kind. That’s all I ask.”

“You want us to suck up to Ben Kilpatrick, after everything he’s done?” Linda Fremont demanded.

“Not suck up to him, exactly. Just put aside your anger for now in the interest of helping the town. An investment, if you will, in something that could pay off for all of us. And please ask your brothers and husbands and fathers to do the same.”

She wasn’t sure it would work—or if it was even right. He shouldn’t get a pass for all the things he had done to harm this town, simply because he was here on behalf of Aidan.

“He did come at a great time for seeing Haven Point at its best,” Julia said.

“Right. One of the busiest but most fun weeks of the year, with Lake Days next week along with our July Fourth celebrations and all the events surrounding the wooden boat show.”

“Don’t forget the service auction just a few days after that,” Lindy-Grace said.

She nodded, heartened by the response. At least they weren’t throwing tomatoes at her just yet. “Exactly. The timing couldn’t be more perfect, really, unless Ben were to show up during the Lights on the Lake Festival. Since he’s not here at Christmastime, we’ll have to take what we can get. This is a perfect chance to showcase the best Haven Point has to offer. I will make sure he is invited to everything, from the mayor’s kickoff luncheon this week to the barbecue at the beach park to the fireworks.”

Linda sniffed. “I don’t think we should have to kiss that man’s ass, no matter how hot Eppie and Hazel might think it is.”

It was indeed a fine backside, but McKenzie wasn’t about to admit that.

“I completely understand your feelings, Linda, and I’m not saying they’re off base. You have to do what you think is right. I will add that, like it or not, Ben could hold the future of our little town in his hands. I just want him to see that any decision he makes will have real impact on a town and a group of people who have already been through a great deal.”

Most of the women in the group seemed to be on her side, though she sensed a few siding with Linda Fremont.

“Be nice to him. That’s possibly a tall order, but manageable by most,” Devin said. “What else?”

“That’s where I need your input. A good old-fashioned Helping Hands brainstorming session. Go.”

* * *

AS SHE HOPED, she was able to keep the meeting to less than an hour, and most of that was spent keeping the Brewer sisters from drooling over a picture of Ben with Aidan Caine that Kat Bailey had found on Google on her smartphone.

Finally, game plan in hand, everybody went their separate ways except Lindy-Grace and Devin, who stayed to help pick up paper plates and cups from the few snacks McKenzie had been able to score at the last minute.

“That went pretty well, don’t you think?” McKenzie asked both of them, her two closest confidantes.

“I don’t know.” Devin shook her head. “Linda is a pretty tough sell, as always.”

“I know. She can give stubborn lessons to a three-year-old. I just hope she doesn’t sabotage anything. Slash his tires or key his car or something.”

“Sam will keep her in check. Don’t worry.”

McKenzie sometimes thought she did nothing but worry. With her luck, she had probably picked up an ulcer in the few hours since Ben had told her the reason behind his return.

Whatever Aidan and Ben might eventually decide about the new facility was completely beyond her control but that didn’t stop her from fretting about all the possible ways she could help sway him toward Haven Point.

“I know. She’s not vicious anyway, just sometimes a little...opinionated,” she answered, which was a little like saying the surrounding mountains received a little snow during their legendary winters.

“She might be angry at Ben but she’s not stupid,” Devin said with that calm rationale McKenzie envied so much. “She won’t do anything to screw up this chance if it means a single dollar more profit for the boutique she loves.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“She’s definitely right,” LG chimed in. “Anyway, enough boring talk about the fate of Haven Point. Let’s talk about me.”

“A far more interesting topic,” McKenzie agreed.

Lindy-Grace grinned. “I know. You’re still taking my kids Sunday night, right? I know it’s a huge favor and terrible timing, right after Lake Haven Days, but I can’t tell you how desperately Mac and I need some alone time, if you know what I mean.”

“No. I have no idea what you mean,” she said with studied innocence.

Her sister snorted. “That’s because you need to get out more. When was the last time you went to dinner with anybody besides the city council?”

“You’re one to talk. Have you even had a date since medical school?”

“Yes. I’ll have you know, just last week Archie and Ed bought me breakfast at Serrano’s. Apparently they like the way I fill out a lab coat.”

“Who doesn’t? You’ve always been a big hit with the over-seventy crowd.”

“A girl’s got to take what she can get sometimes. So. Operation Charm Ben’s Socks Off. What do you need me to do?”

For some weird reason, the idea of Devin charming socks—or anything else—off Ben bothered her far more than it should, but she told herself she was being ridiculous.

“If I end up siccing my vicious dog on him because he’s driving me crazy next door, you can stitch him up for me,” she suggested.

Devin laughed and ruffled Rika’s curly head. “Sounds like a plan.” She glanced at her watch. “If you need me to do anything else, you know where to find me. I’d better run. I’ve got a hundred errands to run on my first day off in weeks.”

“Okay. See you. Thanks for making time today for the emergency summit.”

“No problem.” Devin hugged her and McKenzie wrapped her arms around her sister, deeply grateful for the bond between them. When McKenzie showed up out of the blue all those years ago, Devin could have been cold and distant, resentful and embarrassed about having an illegitimate half sister thrust into her world.

Instead, Devin had literally and physically embraced her from the very beginning and had never been anything but kind and loving.

“So you didn’t answer me about next weekend,” LG pushed after Devin left.

“Yes. I am planning on your two wild children staying at my place. I can’t wait.” LG’s boys were completely adorable, even though McKenzie was exhausted just thinking about entertaining them for thirty-six hours. “We’re going to have a fabulous time. I’m stocking up on all the sugary sweets I can find and fully intend to send them back to you with an epic sugar high bordering on illegal.”

Lindy-Grace laughed, though it didn’t mask the worry in her eyes. McKenzie suspected by a few things her friend let slip that her marriage wasn’t completely rosy. Mac Keegan could be a jerk sometimes, loud and annoying with a tendency to drink a little too much on the weekends and ignore his hardworking wife and cute kids.

If dinner and a night away at the small romantic boutique inn where Eliza Hayward used to work would help reignite their burners, McKenzie was more than willing to help out.

Now, if only she could help her town as easily.

* * *

HE SERIOUSLY WANTED to deck Aidan Caine.

The man might be a genius and Ben’s closest friend, but right now, if the other man happened to walk through the doors of the small Haven Point city offices, Ben would be tempted to take him out with one punch.

He wasn’t much happier right now with McKenzie Shaw, the little trickster.

When the mayor called him that morning and asked him to meet her here, he expected they would have a quiet, closed-door meeting at city hall, a chance for her to give her spiel extolling the magnificent virtues of her town.

He had every intention of nodding politely while he tuned her out and went to some distant happy place in his brain—somewhere with palm trees rustling in the trade winds, for instance, or an alpine meadow somewhere with granite boulders surrounding a glacial-fed lake.

Instead of a personal, private discussion with McKenzie, he had showed up to what appeared to be a full-fledged breakfast banquet, apparently attended by every business owner and dignitary in town.

McKenzie bustled through the middle of everything looking like an exotic butterfly in a field of gorse. Her features were animated and bright, her hands constantly in motion as she floated from group to group like a good hostess, making everyone feel comfortable.

This was definitely her party. A sign over the head table read Haven Point Mayor’s Advisory Council. If he had known she planned to embroil him in a small-town political meeting, he definitely would have come up with some excuse. An emergency appendectomy, maybe.

Everyone seemed to be staring at him out of their peripheral vision. It was almost amusing to watch people whip their heads away and try to pretend they weren’t watching whenever he would happen to catch their gaze. The noise volume in the room seemed unnaturally loud—a little too much conversation and convivial laughter to be real.

So much for his plans to come into town under the radar, carry out Aidan’s wishes about the feasibility study, then sneak out again without anyone making a fuss. He supposed he’d deep-sixed that idea the moment he decided to go to Serrano’s for breakfast a few days earlier.

If everyone in town didn’t know by now exactly why Ben was here, they likely suspected it had something to do with Caine Tech.

He had been shortsighted not to realize that his return after all these years would stir up the town’s curiosity like poking a hornets’ nest with a stick. He had too much baggage here, too many connections to everyone.

“How are you enjoying the Sloane house?”

He glanced at Roxy Nash, the real estate agent who had worked with Ben’s assistant to arrange the rental property on Redemption Bay. She had the long, lean build of a marathon runner and a hungry look in her eyes that he suspected had nothing to do with food.

“Good. It’s a beautiful spot overlooking the mountains.”

“Have you had a chance to take that boat out yet?”

“A few times.”

“And how’s it running, after all these years?”

He shrugged. “It’s a Kilpatrick. Still as tight as ever.”

“Your family made good boats, from what I hear, though that was before my time in town.”

“Yes.”

The little twinge of guilt took him by surprise. Closing the boatworks had been the right decision at the time—the only choice, really. The company had been losing money steadily for years because of market factors and Joe’s general mismanagement.

“I’ve always loved Redemption Bay,” Roxy went on. “It’s a great location, within the city limits but far enough on the outskirts that you sort of feel like you’re out there on your own and the walking path from downtown to the bay around the lake is a huge bonus.”

“It’s been nice so far,” he answered.

She looked around—surprising a few people who quickly turned away from them—then pitched her voice low. “You know, if you’re interested in purchasing a place of your own in town now that you’ve sold Snow Angel Cove to Aidan, I might have a few possibilities. The property three houses over from where you’re staying now, just on the edge of the bay, is about to go on the market. I’m not supposed to say anything yet but I think you can get it for a steal.”

Yeah, that wasn’t happening. He forced a smile. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”

“Are you thinking about moving back?” When Ben wasn’t looking, Russ Warrick had approached them and now he faced Ben with an arrested expression.

“No,” he was quick to answer. He didn’t need that rumor going the rounds in Haven Point now. “Aidan keeps me plenty busy in San Jose, believe me. I’m not coming back.”

He would have liked to leave the matter there but Dr. Warrick wouldn’t let him.

“You should seriously think about it, son. I know you’ve sold your holdings to Aidan but your roots in Haven Point go as deep as an oak.”

“I’ve been gone a long time, Doc. I’ve got a pretty good life in California. Some trees are able to throw down roots just fine in a new place.”

“Maybe. It’s worth considering, though.”

The doctor wanted something from him and Ben didn’t have the first idea what that might be. He was actually grateful when McKenzie went to the front of the room and asked everyone to take a seat so the breakfast could begin.

Before he could figure out a way to sneak out, McKenzie pointed at him and then at an empty seat near her, clearly ordering him to sit. Bossy thing, wasn’t she? At least she wasn’t making him sit at the head table or something.

Not sure why he wasn’t obeying his instincts to leave, he slipped into the seat as McKenzie went to the microphone. He was struck by how lovely she was, with that dusky skin and dark hair and the high cheekbones that made her look like some sort of Aztec princess.

“Thank you all for coming to the annual mayor’s Lake Haven Days Luncheon, which as you know kicks off four days of crazy fun here in Haven Point. I’ve been to several of these but this is my first one in the hot seat. I’ve got to say, I much prefer sitting where you are, eating lousy pastries and exchanging gossip with my neighbors, than having to stand here at the microphone and say something pithy.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have thrown your hat into the ring for mayor,” a burly man with a big dark beard said from the audience.

When the general laughter subsided, McKenzie made a face. “As you will recall, Larry, I didn’t precisely throw any hats here. I was nominated at an election meeting I was unable to attend because I had the flu. But that’s beside the point.”

So that explained how she had become mayor of Haven Point. She hadn’t seemed avidly political to him. It made sense that she had stepped up out of a sense of civic duty.

“The point is, Lake Haven Days provides a priceless opportunity for those of us lucky enough to call this place our home to pause and reflect about all the things we find meaningful about living here. The lake is a big part of it and that’s what we celebrate with the wooden boat festival, but there’s more. It’s about the neighbors who show up at 6:00 a.m. with their tractors to plow your driveway after a big storm. About the basketful of tomatoes another neighbor might drop off on your doorstep or the dinner in your refrigerator when you’ve got the flu.

“We all have the chance to give back next week with our annual community service auction. As members of the mayor’s advisory council, I expect every one of you to participate. You can donate something from your business to be auctioned off or if you have a particular skill or talent, you can donate that instead. Larry, I know you make a mean Dutch-oven chicken dinner, since I’ve been lucky enough to be invited over for it, and I’m sure someone in town would be thrilled to bid on that. Karen, with your graphic arts skills, I’m sure someone in this room would love to bid for an hour of your time to help them redesign a logo or a website banner. I expect everyone to help.”

Ben heard a little good-natured grumbling but people mostly seemed receptive to her order. In his role as the public face at Caine Tech, he had become very good at assessing the mood of a crowd and right now he could see that McKenzie seemed very well-liked among her constituents. She came across as energetic, enthusiastic and warm.

“Will you still be in town for the service auction?” Doc Warrick asked him after McKenzie ended her welcoming speech and sat down.

“I don’t know yet, to tell you the truth. I haven’t figured out how long I’m staying.”

“It’s only another week and some change. If you are still here, the service auction is an event you should not miss. If you want to know this town’s heart, you should see us in action.”

He wasn’t really interested in seeing the town’s heart. He had seen enough when he lived here, watching them all kiss up to Joe, even though his father had been an ass and a bully.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said with a polite smile.

Yeah, he was going to wring McKenzie’s lovely little neck. She should have told him what he was getting into when she invited him here to meet her.

Breakfast was served buffet style. While everyone left their chairs to queue up at the platters filled with pastries, fruit and bagels, Ben opted to remain in his seat to enjoy a surprisingly good coffee.

A moment later, he was joined by a vaguely familiar older man with a shock of white hair and sun-wrinkled features.

He set his plate down and eased into the chair with stiff, jerky movements. “Young Kilpatrick, isn’t it? Ben.”

He nodded.

“Thought so. You’ve changed a bit from the days when you were a punk driving too fast up and down the street but I could recognize your mother’s eyes. Lovely woman, your mother. How is she these days?”

“Good. Thank you.” He assumed as much, anyway. With a niggle of guilt, he remembered Doc Warrick’s conviction that he should tell his mother he was back. He hadn’t called Lydia yet. Maybe after breakfast.

“Do you remember me? Mick Sargent.”

Right. He had worked at the boatworks as long as Ben could remember. The man had always been kind to him.

“Was that you I saw the other day out on the water in an original Delphine?”

“Yes.”

“Named for your grandmother,” Mick said with a solemn nod. “From where I sat on shore, she looked sleek and feisty—much like the original Delphine, as I recall.”

He smiled at this, wishing he remembered the woman. Those who had known her, universally spoke of her with admiration and respect.

“Did you restore her yourself?”

He shook his head. “When I found her, she was in terrible shape, rotting out. I sent her to someone I know in the Bay Area and he managed to find mostly original parts to bring her back to her glory.”

“She is looking fine, at least the quick glimpse I got on the water. It’s only right you should bring her back here. Good decision, son.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ve got a Verlaine myself. She’s not quite as smooth as the Delphine but she’s solid and dependable.”

“Good.”

“I don’t think I’m alone in hoping the reason you’re back in town might have something to do with new plans to open the boatworks again. Fine-crafted wooden boats have made a big comeback in recent years. Look at you, pouring all kinds of money and time into restoring a Delphine. You’re not the only one who sees the beauty there.”

He hoped he wasn’t going to have to defend his decision to close the factory all morning long. “I’m not in the boat-building business anymore,” he said quietly, hoping this would be the end of it. “My job at Caine Tech takes all my time and energy.”

“That’s fine for you,” Mick said in a low, even tone that matched his own. “What about for the people of this town? You’ve got obligations here, like it or not.”

He wasn’t responsible for these people. He barely knew them! Simply because his father had once owned the company that had once been the town’s largest employer did not make Ben some sort of feudal lord, for heaven’s sake.

He was saved from having to answer when another guy of about the same age as Mick sat down on his other side and asked Sargent a question about irrigation water shares.

Ben used their conversation as an excuse to get up. He started to head for the exit, hoping McKenzie wouldn’t notice. Unfortunately, at the same moment she began to walk toward him. She wore a tailored white shirt and a chunky blue-and-green necklace that reminded him of sunlight shifting across the lake. All that lovely dark hair was tangled up in some kind of a twist behind her head. She probably thought it made her look crisp and businesslike but he only wanted to pull a few pins out and trail his fingers through the soft strands.

The impulse came out of the blue, shocking him to the core, and he curled his fingers into his palm to keep from acting on it.

“Hi, Ben. I hope you’re enjoying breakfast. I wasn’t sure you would come.”

“I get the impression people don’t say no very often to the Haven Point mayor.”

Her mouth twisted into a wry expression. “You’d be surprised. Most people have absolutely no problem saying no to me.”

“That’s fairly shocking. I can’t believe I’m the only one in town who considers you a force of nature.”

She laughed a little but it still relaxed the tension in her features. “Not a force of nature. Mostly a pain in the butt. I have a...bad habit of putting high expectations on people. Some have even called them unrealistic.”

Who? Her family? He had been a teenager when McKenzie came to town and could clearly remember hearing gossip around town about the big-eyed, exotic-looking daughter who had suddenly shown up and moved in with the local attorney and his family.

It had set tongues wagging all around town. McKenzie had obviously been the product of an affair, as she was a few years younger than the Shaws’ only other living child, Devin.

What had life been like for her in that household? Adele Shaw had always struck him as a nice woman but she wasn’t a saint, by any stretch of the imagination. It couldn’t have been easy for her to have her husband’s love child suddenly thrust upon her.

He didn’t have the local monopoly on shitty childhoods, he suddenly realized.

“When you have unrealistic expectations of people, you’re setting yourself up for a firestorm of disappointment,” he said. “That’s a tough way to go through life.”

She shrugged. “I may be naive, but I like to put my faith in people, even if it’s overly optimistic. In my experience, if you demand much of people, they usually want to rise to meet those expectations.”

Or they fight back and do their damnedest to shatter them, he thought, but didn’t say.

“I overheard you talking boats with Mick Sargent.”

“He was talking about boats. I was mostly listening.”

Her smile was like the sun sliding over the peaks of the Redemptions after a miserable night. “That’s usually all you can do once Mick settles in for a chat. He’s a character. Eighty-three years old and still going strong.”

“He seemed old when I was a kid. I remember seeing him work a sander and wondering if he was going to keel over any minute.”

“Isn’t perspective a funny thing? When I was a girl, thirty seemed absolutely ancient. Now that I’m staring it right in the face, I feel like I’m still a baby.”

“You are still a baby. You’re probably the youngest mayor in the history of Haven Point, aren’t you? Though apparently not by choice.”

“Not really. I never sought this position and didn’t want it.”

“Why did you accept the nomination? Nobody can force you to run for office in this country, unless there’s some bizarre Haven Point compulsory service bylaw I don’t know about.”

She sighed. “You’re absolutely right. I could have said no.”

“But you didn’t.”

She gave a shrug that seemed both eloquent and simple. “This is my town and I love it here. People here embraced me when I was a strange kid who showed up out of nowhere. They have supported my business and opened their hearts to me in friendship. Haven Point isn’t perfect. We have our problems, like any other town—the economy being at the top of the list—but in general, this is a warm, caring place.”

She looked around the room. “I love this community—and if I can make it a better place to live for my neighbors and friends, I have an obligation to step up and do my part.”

He studied her, wondering if her earnestness could possibly be genuine. Yeah, he might be a cynic, but it seemed a little too good to be true. No one could possibly have this rosy a view of her hometown.

“And how’s that working out for you so far?”

He regretted the caustic words immediately, especially when her lovely dark eyes clouded and her mouth tightened.

“Great. And as a delightful perk of my job, I get to entertain all the visiting ass—” She caught herself at the last second before she could complete that particular sentiment and quickly amended the thought. “Er, awesome dignitaries.”

He deserved the original pejorative, he acknowledged. Finding himself the center of attention left him feeling awkward and uncomfortable and he was taking his unease out on McKenzie. Though she had misled him about the meeting, he still didn’t have the right to be a jerk to her.

“A difficult task, no doubt.”

“Sometimes. Last month, we had a delegation from the state clean water board. I got to enjoy four hours of stories about inorganics and metals, nitrates and nitrites. I now know more about water treatment procedures than I ever dreamed.”

She held up a finger suddenly. “That reminds me. I meant to mention to you that’s another big plus about Haven Point, by the way. We have a very plentiful supply of exceptionally clean drinking water. In fact, I’ve got an extra copy of their report that might be useful to you and Aidan. Follow me and you can take it with you.”

Without waiting for an answer, she turned around and headed down the hallway. Since he didn’t seem to have too many options unless he wanted to stand here by himself and deal with more of those sidelong glances, he followed her.

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