Robin Cummings’s Guide to Finding the Perfect Man

—Date Mr. Wrong for two years.

—Call off the wedding with barely a moment to spare. Whew!

—Come to Ranger Springs to lick your wounds and forget about men, then fall into the strong arms of the police chief—who happens to be the most appealing man you’ve ever met.

—Try to forget about Police Chief Ethan Parker, because you came here to forget about men.

—Fail miserably.

—Realize that Ethan Parker is the perfect man for you, even though it may take the rest of your life to convince him you belong together….

Dear Reader,

It’s another wonderful month at Harlequin American Romance, the line dedicated to bringing you stories of heart, home and happiness! Just look what we have in store for you….

Author extraordinaire Cathy Gillen Thacker continues her fabulous series THE LOCKHARTS OF TEXAS with The Bride Said, “Finally!” Cathy will have more Lockhart books out in February and April 2001, as well as a special McCabe family saga in March 2001.

You’ve been wanting more books in the TOTS FOR TEXANS series, and author Judy Christenberry has delivered! The $10,000,000 Texas Wedding is the not-to-be-missed continuation of these beloved stories set in Cactus, Texas. You just know there’s plenty of romance afoot when a bachelor will lose his huge inheritance should he fail to marry the woman he once let get away.

Rounding out the month are two fabulous stories by two authors making their Harlequin American Romance debut. Neesa Hart brings us the humorous Who Gets To Marry Max? and Victoria Chancellor will wow you with The Bachelor Project.

Wishing you happy reading!

Melissa Jeglinski

Associate Senior Editor

The Bachelor Project

Victoria Chancellor

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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To my wonderful in-laws, Lillian & E. V. Huffstutler.

Thank you making me part of the family, and for telling those great small-town-Texas stories during Sunday dinner. I love you, Sudie and Dad.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

While growing up in Louisville, Kentucky, Victoria Chancellor never realized her vivid imagination meant she would someday become a writer. Now married to a Texan and settled in a suburb of Dallas, she thoroughly enjoys creating fictional worlds inhabited by characters who deserve a happy ending. When she’s not writing, Victoria cares for her “zoo” of three cats, two ferrets, two tortoises, a flock of naturalized ring-neck doves and assorted wild animals who wander onto her patio for dinner each night. She would love to receive letters at P.O. Box 852125, Richardson, TX 75085-2125. Please enclose a SASE for reply.

Books by Victoria Chancellor

HARLEQUIN AMERICAN ROMANCE

844—THE BACHELOR PROJECT

Contents

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

Epilogue

Chapter One

There! The scratching, bumping noise filtered through the closed, locked windows.

Robin peered through the mini-blinds into the vast darkness outside the fringe of artificial light. She couldn’t see beyond the large pecan trees to the county road. Having grown up in a Houston highrise, she felt as if she were the only person alive in the Texas Hill Country. Of course, there were other people around—just not very close. She’d noticed a few other houses, perhaps a quarter-mile away, when she’d driven in early this afternoon.

Floodlights mounted high on the side and back of the residence bathed the lawn and shrubs in a brightness bordering on daylight. Squinting into the shadows, she searched for the source of the suspicious noise she’d heard only moments ago.

Nothing.

She’d hoped to see a wild animal running among the rows of clay pots filled with begonias. Or even a loud car driving carelessly on the two-lane road that connected Ranger Springs to nowhere in particular.

Nothing.

“There’s no one outside,” she whispered to herself. This comfortable, rural, family home was safe. Her Great-aunt Sylvia’s dear friend Bess wouldn’t have suggested a town rife with criminals or juvenile delinquents. And certainly no one she knew from Houston would be rummaging around outside the house, especially since they didn’t know where she’d run. Why would she tell them, when she didn’t want to face family or friends for at least two or three months?

Her hand was poised to turn off the floor lamp in the large den when the sound came again. Horribly clear and menacing, just outside the thin glass windows. Near the dining room? She tilted her head, listening, her body strung tight. No, perhaps the kitchen. She imagined the intruders preparing to enter the house…or maybe just frighten her. Who knew what kind of mischief rural teenagers could perpetrate?

With a frown, she reached for the phone. Was this town large enough to have an emergency number? Somewhere in the house, she’d seen a listing of fire and police departments, but at the moment she couldn’t remember where that might be. Well, she’d dial 9-1-1 and see what happened.

“Ranger Springs 9-1-1. What is your emergency?”

“I think I have an intruder. Could you please send someone out here? I just moved in this afternoon. The house has been empty for a month, and I’m afraid someone might be prowling around.” Robin swiveled so she could see the windows and listen for more sounds.

“Can you give me a description of the intruder?”

“No, I can’t see him…or them. But I heard something just a few minutes ago.”

“What’s your address?”

Robin gave the dispatcher the rural route number, but kept on listening for sounds.

“Chief Parker is on his way.”

A horrible crashing noise came from beneath the dining room windows. “Please, hurry,” she whispered, suddenly more afraid. “I think they’re getting desperate.”

“Hold on, ma’am. Tell me your name.”

“Cummings. Robin Cummings. I’m staying at the home of the Franklin family. House-sitting.”

“Chief Parker will be there in just a few minutes. He’s on his way. He’s listening to the call.”

“Hurry.”

“Do you have a weapon?”

“No,” Robin said, shuddering as she imagined herself trying to pull the trigger as she stared down the barrel of a pistol. Or, worse yet, clutching a knife to defend herself. “No weapon.”

“I’ll be on the line with you until he’s there. Stay away from the windows and keep your doors locked until the chief identifies himself.”

“Don’t worry,” Robin said, leaning against the couch, “everything is locked, and I’m not going anywhere near a door or window.”

She pulled her knees up high and hugged them to her chest. The police chief would be here soon. Not just a patrol officer, but The Chief. Someone experienced, mature, competent. She didn’t care if he looked like Andy Griffith or the guy Carroll O’Connor had played in that Southern television drama. In just a few minutes, he’d be here and scare the intruders away.

POLICE CHIEF ETHAN PARKER cut the lights on his patrol car; he’d already shut off the siren a ways back. Parking beneath the spreading pecan trees that lined the two-lane blacktop and driveway to the Franklin house, he took just a moment to let his eyes adjust to the darkness so he could look around the property. He seriously doubted that out here in the country there was an intruder lurking in the darkness. More than likely, an animal was scrounging for food or just curious about activity inside the recently vacant home.

Still, he unsnapped the holster restraint and gripped his pistol. Even if a human predator wasn’t about this night, he’d seen a couple of pretty large cougars not too far west of here. No sense in tempting fate.

The car’s clock reminded him that his shift ended in just ten minutes. If one of his patrol officers wasn’t in Austin for a training class, Ethan would be home, getting ready for bed right now. The chief didn’t usually work the night shift, but in a small town, every person had to do double duty at times.

He gave his position to Ben, his regular nighttime dispatcher, clipped his call unit on his shoulder, then gripped a flashlight. Ethan eased out of the patrol car into the warm, humid night, shutting the door as silently as possible. Every lamp in the house seemed to be blazing, giving him plenty of light to see around the exterior. Floodlights on two sides illuminated the side and back entrances, and brass fixtures on either side of the ornate front door revealed the wide, deep porch.

Ethan circled the house, listening for any whispers that might indicate some local teens looking for a deserted house to use for a party. Or to sit around outside and drink some beers they’d taken from a parent’s refrigerator. Even Ranger Springs wasn’t immune to the problems of the city, so he wouldn’t put it past a few teens to smoke a little marijuana out here in the country. But the only sounds he heard were the usual summer night noises of crickets and other insects.

A far cry from the career at the FBI he’d given up almost three years ago. Crime in Ranger Springs didn’t compare with that in Dallas. In the past three years, he’d never before received a 9-1-1 call from a hysterical woman who feared for her life. He had to wonder who this caller might be—a friend of Mr. and Mrs. Franklin, or someone who’d heard about the vacancy through Gina Mae Summers, the local real estate agent? Ethan had already been making extra patrols to the property just to make sure teens looking for a good hangout hadn’t decided an uninhabited, upscale, three-bedroom house would make a great Party Central.

His boots made barely a sound as they sank lightly into the damp earth. No footprints other than his marked the property, giving him further reassurance that two-legged predators weren’t lurking. Kids weren’t nearly as sneaky as they thought they were, and he doubted any one of the teens in Ranger Springs would think to conceal evidence that they’d walked around outside an empty house.

He reached the side entrance, where a couple of moving boxes and some plastic bags tumbled haphazardly across the concrete path to the detached garage. Nudging the closer box with his boot, he wasn’t too surprised when two dark shapes scrambled out of the mess. One paused briefly to stand on hind legs and stare at him in curiosity from darkly masked eyes. Then the raccoons both ran to the nearest tree and scurried up the rough bark.

Ethan smiled as he eased his 40-caliber semiautomatic into the holster. Reassured that no danger lurked in the moonlit shadows, he approached the front door and knocked.

“Police Chief Ethan Parker,” he announced loudly.

He heard the whisper of footsteps, then saw a feminine shape cross the leaded panels. Finally, a woman flung open the heavy oak door.

She stood inside the threshold, dressed in a skimpy peach-colored robe she clutched around her middle. Something—perhaps a T-shirt—peeked out below the hem, brushing against her thighs. Long, tanned thighs. He took only a second to take in her average height and build, delicate features and heart-shaped face and determined she posed no threat to him.

In the next instant, the description “doe in the headlights” popped into his head. He’d seen the same look of fear in large brown eyes just before he’d slammed on the brakes and steered to avoid one of the beautiful and plentiful deer that populated the Hill Country.

“Miss Cummings?” Thankfully, he remembered her name from the dispatcher’s conversation. Every other rational, professional thought seemed to have deserted his brain for the moment.

“You’re the police chief?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, automatically reaching for his wallet badge. “Ethan Parker. Are you all right?”

“Yes, but thank goodness you’re here,” she said, her voice soft and throaty. Kind of sexy…except he shouldn’t be thinking about that when she was obviously upset.

“Did you see who was outside?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he answered, trying not to let his gaze roam over her thinly dressed figure, shapely legs and bare feet any more than absolutely necessary for police business. “They were raccoons—two, to be precise—and I can assure you they were as frightened of me as you were of them.”

She sagged against the door frame, her breath fast and shallow. “I feel so foolish. I thought maybe some kids were hanging around, or maybe vagrants. I really don’t know anyone in this area, so I assumed whoever was making the noise wasn’t friendly.”

“It’s all right. I understand.”

She released her robe long enough to rake her fingers through dark blond, shoulder-length strands. Her other hand maintained a white-knuckled grip on the door frame. “Are raccoons dangerous?”

“Not unless they’re rabid.”

“Rabid!”

She looked absolutely shocked. She must be from the city if she was unfamiliar with one of the most common animals in Texas. And surely she’d heard of rabies. Or maybe that was the problem. Some people had an unreasonable fear of wild animals and the diseases they might carry.

“You shouldn’t have to worry—” The static signaling a call from the dispatcher was immediately followed by a request for his status.

The woman in the doorway jumped as though she’d taken a .45 to the chest.

Ethan cursed beneath his breath as he touched the communication unit attached to his uniform near his shoulder. “Parker to dispatch,” he answered more curtly than usual. “Everything’s fine out here, Ben. Just a few curious raccoons.”

His attention didn’t waver from the woman as the dispatcher signed off. He wanted to reach out and comfort her, warm her hands between his larger ones, erase the look of panic from her wide brown eyes. Her palpable fear ate at his soul like acid.

“Would you like me to show you what made so much racket?” he asked gently.

“They’re still here?” She peered into the darkness as if she could see around the house. Her hands now clutched the thin peach-colored robe as desperately as they’d gripped the door frame.

“No, although they might be up that tree over there—” he pointed “—watching us talk about them. There’s a stack of trash they found mighty interesting. They were probably checking out the moving boxes to see if you’d left anything for them to eat.” He smiled, but she didn’t seem the least bit at ease with his good-ol’-boy routine. He decided another tactic was in order.

“You mentioned several possible intruders. Have you had any problems? This house was vacant for over a month.”

She focused on him immediately, her eyes even wider, her shoulders rigid. She took a deep breath. “No, not really. I was just letting my imagination run wild. There’s absolutely no reason anyone would know I’m here.”

He frowned. “No family?”

“Of course, I have family,” she said cautiously. “Just not here. And I haven’t told them where I’m staying…yet.” She shrugged dismissively, then tried a weak, unconvincing smile. “No big mystery.”

He hadn’t lost his instincts for investigation when he’d moved from Dallas to a quiet, small town. Miss Robin Cummings was running away from something—or someone. He’d bet his badge she wasn’t about to let her family know where she was until she was good and ready.

“Are you in some kind of trouble, Miss Cummings?” he asked calmly, stepping closer. He needed to understand her fear. As an officer of the law, he told himself. Not as a man reacting to a woman who brought out every protective tendency he possessed.

“What do you mean? Why are you asking me that?”

“Because that’s my job.”

“I’m not in any trouble,” she claimed, then paused. Her expression revealed what might be regret. “Unless you count an angry ex-fiancé and two parents who spent a fortune on a wedding that almost went off without a hitch.”

Dammit, he did not need this complication in his life. Especially this particular problem. How was he, of all people, supposed to be rational, objective and sympathetic toward a woman who had left her angry, frustrated fiancé at the altar?

But then her lower lip started trembling, and she whispered, “It was going to be a very elegant wedding.” She started shaking.

With another muttered curse, Ethan ignored his own prejudice and years of training. He ignored the little voice in his head that told him this was a very stupid move, as he pulled her into his arms.

ROBIN WASN’T SURE how she ended up in the police chief’s arms. She didn’t know if comforting overly emotional women was standard police procedure. All she felt was the overwhelming relief of being wrapped snugly against a hard, male chest, with his strong hands soothing on her back, his heartbeat steady against her cheek.

She shouldn’t crave the feeling. She definitely shouldn’t get used to the comfort. And yet her arms clung to him, and her fingers pressed into the muscles of his back as she breathed in the scent of clean male and fresh starch. She sighed and closed her eyes, unable to resist the security this man—this stranger—represented.

There was nothing personal in his embrace…or in her reaction to him, she told herself as her tears and sniffles stopped. He was simply…tranquillity. Understanding. Acceptance in an unforgiving world. And he hadn’t asked her about the foolish remarks she’d made. Her relief over the reprieve of not having to explain why she’d called off her wedding would have been enough to send her into his strong arms.

She could have stayed there for an eternity. Perhaps she did. Time ceased to exist as his hand stroked her upper back. Gradually, her breathing returned to normal. But then she realized his heartbeat was no longer steady and slow. And his chest wasn’t the only hard, male part of him pressed tightly against her thin robe and skimpy cotton sleep shirt.

He must have felt the same awareness, because his hand stilled and he tensed. Robin pulled away at the same time as he cleared his throat and focused on the seemingly fascinating architectural details of the porch posts.

“I’m sorry for acting like such a…wuss,” she said softly.

His smile appeared a bit strained as he looked back at her. He was embarrassed, she realized. Of her actions or his body’s reaction?

“A wuss?” he asked. “You were afraid.”

“Of raccoons.”

His smile faded. “And you were upset.”

She hugged her arms. Sooner or later, she was going to have to explore her feelings about the marriage that didn’t go off without a hitch, but not now. Not yet. “Whatever. You showed me there’s nothing to be afraid of.” If she didn’t count her response to the handsome police chief.

“I didn’t say that. There’s plenty to be cautious of out here. A lot of animals can be dangerous if they’re hungry enough. But we hardly ever get a case of rabies.”

She rubbed her arms against a sudden chill at the thought of salivating, fanged beasts. “I’ve never lived in the country before.”

He glanced quickly at his watch, letting out a long sigh. His expression told her he was battling some inner struggle. He was probably weighing common courtesy against correct procedure, counting the moments until he could escape from the crazy city woman.

“Parker to Dispatch,” he said into the device pinned near his shoulder. His wide, strong shoulders. “Ten forty-two.”

The dispatcher replied, but Robin couldn’t hear what they said. She was just about to ask what the code meant when Chief Parker spoke.

“You’re cold,” he observed almost casually. “Would you like to go inside, Miss Cummings?”

“Well…”

“I’d be glad to give you a rundown on what you’re likely to see out here. Kind of a Country Primer,” he added with a reluctant smile that was way too sexy for a late-night official visit.

She hoped his observation about her being cold was based on her rubbing her arms and not the fact her thin robe was revealing more than she’d like him to see. The idea of his noticing her breasts caused a reaction that she hid by folding her arms across her chest. The friction was almost painful.

When she spoke, her voice sounded husky. Breathy. Sexy. Not at all like an interior decorator standing on a front porch in the middle of the night, wearing no makeup—and not much else, for that matter. “I don’t want to keep you from your other duties.”

“You’re not. I’m off duty now. And like I said, it’s usually real quiet around here. This is the most excitement—”

His sudden pause was followed by what Robin strongly suspected was a blush from the local law enforcement officer, although she couldn’t tell, since his back was to the porch light. The thought that she’d been the cause of so much “excitement” made her smile—to herself. No sense making him any more embarrassed than he already was.

On the other hand, she couldn’t let him go so quickly. Not when the air was practically sparking with something very foreign and enticing. Maybe she was just relieved that there hadn’t been a real threat to her security tonight. Maybe she wanted to focus on something besides her former fiancé and irate parents. Whatever the reason, she’d like the police chief’s company for a while longer.

“I’ll take you up on your offer. Why don’t I fix us some coffee?”

He seemed genuinely surprised by her response. “You don’t have to do that. You’ve had a scare.”

“Which I’m now over, thanks to you.” She reached for the storm door. “Please, come in for coffee and tell me all about these wild predators. I’d like to know how to tell a deranged killer from a hungry raccoon.”

He smiled in an endearing, aw-shucks-ma’am manner that made her want to hug him tightly and tell him he was way too good to be true. Way too good-looking, too.

“If you’re sure it’s no trouble.”

“I’d appreciate the company. Something tells me I won’t be able to get to sleep anytime soon.”

Especially if I keep thinking about Police Chief Ethan Parker, Robin silently added as she walked barefoot down the hallway to the “mother-in-law’s room” she’d claimed as hers while staying at the Franklin house. Many of her clients in the suburbs had these bed and bath combinations separated from the other bedrooms. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back.”

She needed something more substantial to wear. There was no way she’d be able to continue a conversation—even one based on the flora and fauna of the Texas Hill Country—in this robe. Not when the chief looked so darn good in his crisp uniform and sexy, reluctant smile.

Robin paused, her smile fading as she pulled a T-shirt on over a sports bra and donned a pair of running shorts. She hadn’t looked at the chief’s hands. She hadn’t noticed if he was wearing a wedding band. He might be married. There might be a Mrs. Parker waiting for her husband to come home.

He didn’t seem in any hurry to get home to the missus. When Robin strolled into the kitchen a few minutes later, he was making coffee as if he owned the place. The distinctive aroma filled the room as the sputtering, hissing water filtered through the grounds.

“Find everything you need?” she asked, making more noise than necessary as she removed two mugs from the cabinet. Favorite mugs she’d placed there just hours before, as she’d unpacked the necessities she’d brought with her from her Houston condo.

“I hope you don’t mind. I found some decaf. I didn’t think you needed caffeine after what you’ve been through tonight.”

“Decaf’s fine. But like I said earlier, I don’t want to keep you. Your…family might be expecting you home.”

He turned his head to the side and smiled in a knowing way. “Is that the polite way to ask if I’m married?”

Robin stood straight, surprised she was so transparent. She really was rusty at this man-woman thing. Dating one man for two years would do that to a person. “I—”

“That’s okay. You probably should have questions. Believe me, I don’t usually…Well, let’s just say that I haven’t needed to comfort an upset woman in a long, long time.”

“Is that your way of saying that you were just doing your job?” She placed the mugs on the counter next to the coffeemaker, then rested her hands on her hips. For some reason she didn’t want to explore, she felt extraordinarily irritated by his remark.

“No, that’s not what I meant.” He rotated his neck, then ran a hand through his short, dark brown hair. His sheepish smile was totally different from the falsely charming one he’d given her on the porch, when he’d tried to convince her that strange noises in the night were nothing to worry about. “Look, I’ve never hugged a 9-1-1 caller before.”

“Oh.” She let her hands fall to her sides and concentrated on not smiling with feminine confidence. Perhaps she was still giddy with relief, but her reaction to Chief Parker was as out of character for her as he claimed his earlier behavior was for him. In a tiny corner of her mind, she knew being attracted to a man so quickly after her botched near-wedding was not smart, but for the moment she chose to ignore the warning.

Chapter Two

“I’m flattered I was your first 9-1-1 hug, then,” she replied as casually as possible. “And to put my thinly veiled question another way, I hope your wife doesn’t mind that you go around comforting hysterical women in the middle of the night.”

Parker laughed. “I don’t have a wife. Never have had one, although I have been close a time or two.”

“Really? There’s a story there, I’m sure, but I’m not bold enough to ask.”

“Good, because I wouldn’t answer. At least, not over a first cup of coffee when we’re supposed to be talking about getting you acclimated to country living.”

“Oh, yes. I almost forgot.” She probably shouldn’t have admitted that, she realized as she turned around and poured the coffee. Pasting a confident smile on her face, she walked the few steps to the table and placed the cup before him. “Cream or sugar?”

“No, thank you. I’ve learned to drink it black.”

“You obviously have a tougher stomach than I do,” she said as she helped herself to sweetener and powdered creamer. Thank goodness she’d remembered to pack the basics, since the grocery in Ranger Springs had closed before she’d had a chance to go shopping.

“It’s a prerequisite for law enforcement work.”

“I thought the dietary requirements included the ability to consume endless doughnuts.” She took a sip of coffee, hoping he didn’t take offense over her attempt at cop humor.

“Enough with the clichés,” he said with a short chuckle. “We have to stay a bit more healthy than a steady diet of doughnuts would allow.”

And he certainly did look healthy…and fit. She squirmed a bit in her seat, deciding she’d better change the subject quickly. “So, what animals should I expect?”

He gave her a speculative look, but didn’t pursue the personal remarks. Leaning back in his chair, he took a tentative sip of the hot coffee. “The common ones are squirrels, raccoons, opossums, rabbits and deer. You’ll probably have some foxes and coyotes visit, too, but you may never see them. They’re pretty shy of humans. We’ve even had some cougars sighted, so be careful if you’re out at night.”

“Cougars?” She barely suppressed a shudder. “I didn’t realize I was that far out in the wild.”

“Actually, we keep intruding into their territory. San Antonio has spread pretty far north, and Austin is spreading south and west. We’ve built new roads and vacation homes through the Hill Country. The animals migrate where they can find food, which is often around humans.”

“I’ll make sure they’re not finding it at my back door.”

“That’s the best thing you can do. Of course, the deer will eat anything in the yard—grass, trees, shrubs, flowers. It’s hard to discourage them. The feed store has a few solutions, but a hungry deer is more persistent than anything I’ve seen so far.”

“I didn’t know house-sitting was going to be so challenging,” she said, shaking her head.

“You’ll get used to it.” He looked at her over the rim of his mug, his expression unreadable. The unspoken part of his remark echoed between them—if you’re going to be here that long.

She didn’t know the answer to that question.

“I’ll try my best, especially the part about staying away from the meat-eaters.”

Parker leaned forward. “Don’t make the mistake of treating any of the wild animals like house pets. Opossums have more teeth than any mammal in North America, and even a squirrel can seriously injure you by biting your finger instead of whatever you’re trying to feed it. What appears cute and cuddly can quickly become dangerous.”

She wondered if his warning applied to off-duty police chiefs. “Don’t worry. I’ll limit my feeding to putting out seed for some nice, safe birds.”

“You’d be better off not putting anything out at all.”

“I like birds. I never get to feed them from my condo balcony.”

“Then you’ll also get squirrels and the rest. They like seed, too.”

“You’re not exactly a walking, talking advertisement for rural life, you know,” she complained halfheartedly, unable to suppress a smile.

Parker chuckled. “No, I suppose I’m not. As a police officer, I tend to focus on prevention. If I can’t prevent, I apprehend.”

“And answer calls from hysterical women with a raccoon problem.”

“That,” he said, placing his empty mug on the table, “was a very rare event. I doubt I’ll need to modify my job description, unless you’re planning on calling in regularly.”

She traced a cross over her heart. “I promise I’ll look for four-legged visitors first.”

He looked at her speculatively. “Will you?”

“Of course.”

His expression grew more serious, more inquisitive, reminding Robin that he was, as a law enforcement officer, a trained interrogator. “You were pretty upset—maybe not a hundred percent from the raccoons.”

She shrugged, not wanting to discuss the subject. She wasn’t sure why she’d brought it up. “New-house jitters. A change in life-style. I’m fine now.”

He didn’t look convinced, but, thankfully, didn’t argue. Instead, he pushed back his chair and rose, towering over her until she was forced to stand, or get a crick in her neck.

“I’d better let you get some sleep. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine. And I really enjoyed the coffee, and the conversation.”

“I’ll have the next patrol officer drive by a few times tonight, just to make sure you’re safe.”

“I’m sure that’s unnecessary.”

“I’ll sleep better knowing you’re okay.”

“I…I suppose that’s a good idea.” She smiled. “I wouldn’t want to be surrounded by angry raccoons.”

“Or held hostage by hungry deer,” he teased.

“No.” Her smile faded as the joking ended. She felt the tension building now just as surely as she’d smelled coffee brewing earlier.

“Well, then, thank you for the coffee,” he said.

He seemed to take up way too much space in the kitchen. His blue eyes, as warm and dark as the coffee he’d brewed, looked at her in a very un-policeman-like manner.

“You’re welcome,” she answered, her voice an octave lower than when she’d stood on her front porch in her sleep shirt and robe. “Thanks for fixing it.” Darn it, she’d already thanked him for that once. Did he think she was babbling? Well, perhaps she was.

“No problem.”

The silence stretched on for just a moment too long. A breathless, quiet moment that made her forget about everything but the man standing before her. But then he shifted his weight, his hand automatically resting on a holster that held a large and dangerous-looking pistol, and she remembered that he was a law enforcement officer, and that she was a new resident who’d called in with an emergency.

Perhaps he was just being friendly. Maybe she was imagining this tension between them. Or you could just be mentally exhausted and rambling, she told herself as she gripped the back of her chair.

“Thank you for coming out, Chief Parker.”

“You’re welcome. And the name’s Ethan.”

“Ethan.” A strong name. A simple, basic name—one without nicknames and unusual spellings.

He smiled at her again, then picked up his flashlight and walked toward the front door. She followed behind, a sense of déjà vu reminding her she’d walked guys to the door before. Dates…and one nice, safe fiancé. Not police chiefs she barely knew.

“By the way,” he said, pausing as he pushed open the front door, “I did come out because you called. That was duty. I stayed because I wanted to. Sitting down and sharing a cup of coffee had nothing to do with my professional responsibilities.”

She looked up at his well-defined features and Mel-Gibson-blue eyes. Her heart beat so fast, she wondered if he could see the blood rushing through her veins. “Thank you for telling me.”

“I just wanted you to understand the difference. I don’t come on to women I meet in the line of duty.”

“No hugging?” she whispered.

“No.” His eyes focused solely on her lips. She couldn’t help herself; she licked away the dryness in a nervous gesture.

“No kissing, either.” He leaned forward ever so slightly. The night noises sounded overly loud, drowning out her heartbeat as she lost herself in his eyes. But then he blinked, startling both himself and her. He jerked upright, the moment gone as quickly as a cricket’s chirp.

He started to say something, just as the dispatcher’s voice came over the communication unit. “Dispatch to Parker. What’s your 40?”

He punched a small button. “Leaving the Franklin house right now.”

“You had a call. Someone checking up on you.” Even a couple of feet away from the communication device, Robin heard the humor in the dispatcher’s voice.

Ethan smiled. “Tell her I’m on my way.”

Her? He’d said he didn’t have a wife. Then who was checking up on him this late at night?

Robin frowned, envisioning an impatient girlfriend waiting for the police chief, but apparently he didn’t pick up on her…unease. She refused to call the feeling anything else.

He seemed in a sudden hurry to be anywhere but her front porch. “I’ll see you soon,” he said, backing through the doorway. “Keep yourself safe.”

“I will.” She tried not to frown.

“Good night, Robin.”

“Good night.”

She reached for the storm door, securing it as he strode toward the patrol car. Then she folded her arms and leaned against the door facing, her jumbled impressions of the last call colliding with images of Ethan, the man, and Chief Parker, the protector. And all of it churned by exhaustion that left her longing for a thick, soft mattress and twelve hours of uninterrupted sleep.

A few seconds later, he started the engine of the patrol car, then turned on his headlights. As she slowly closed the heavy wood door, he pulled out of the driveway onto the county road, scattering a few errant leaves and some small puffs of dirt on his way back to town.

Leaving her with more questions than answers.

THE NEXT MORNING, Ethan headed to the Four Square Café for his lunch break. He needed a simple answer: who was Robin Cummings? Why did a born-and-bred city girl move to a small town, even temporarily? His instincts told him she was the type of person who was close to her family. Who had friends who’d comfort her during an obviously trying time. She’d said her wedding was to be an expensive one, which meant money. So if she needed to get away, why had she chosen Ranger Springs, of all places?

As he pushed open the country-style door, the jingling bell announced his arrival. The smells of chicken-fried steak, French fries and sizzling bacon drifted through the high service window at the back of the restaurant. Conversations, which had been humming along as he’d entered, subsided, replaced by the clink of knives and forks placed on Texas Places of Interest paper place mats. Heads turned in his direction.

Eating lunch in a public place wasn’t really news, but as he looked into the curious faces of the diners, he half expected a headline to that effect in the Springs Gazette’s Sunday edition. Perhaps he had been going home for lunch fairly often, or eating one of Aunt Bess’s meatloaf sandwiches at his desk, but surely he hadn’t become so much of a curiosity. Surely, he hadn’t become that predictable. Boring, some might say, he thought with a frown.

“How are you, Thelma?” he asked the newspaper editor as he walked past her table. She was having lunch with the perpetually strawberry-blond owner of the town’s only beauty shop. “Good afternoon, Joyce.”

Both women acknowledged his greeting, but he didn’t pause and chat. Not when the object of his search was seated in the last red vinyl booth, picking her way through a Cobb salad, her red hair sleeked back in a no-nonsense style that matched her conservative pale yellow dress. At one time, the matchmakers in town had tried to push him toward the career-minded real estate agent. His experience with women who valued their careers more than their relationships had made him understandably shy of getting involved with her.

He passed by Jimmy Mack Branson, Ranger Springs’s hardware expert, who was eating lunch with Pastor Carl Schleipinger and banker Ralph Biggerstaff. Nodding at the men, he continued to the rear of the café.

“Afternoon, Gina Mae,” he said, creasing his hat to keep his hands busy. He didn’t want the crafty real estate lady to know he was just a tad nervous about approaching her.

“Chief Parker! How are you?”

“Fine. Do you have a minute?”

“Of course. Have a seat.” She gathered up some papers she’d spread across the table’s gray Formica surface. “I was just working on a new listing. You’re not interested in a larger house, are you?”

“No, I’m real happy where I am.”

“Well, then, what can I do for you?”

“I drove out to the Franklin house last night. I suppose you rented it out.”

“Actually, the Franklins wanted a house-sitter. I thought you knew that.”

So Robin had told the truth to the dispatcher last night. “I know they’re out of the country for another two or three months. I wanted to make sure the person living there was legit.”

“They weren’t looking for rent—just someone to care for the place and the plants while they’re gone. You know how dangerous it is to leave a house vacant.”

“Absolutely. Anyway,” he said, getting the conversation back on track, “I met the new occupant. She’d been startled by some raccoons.” And upset about the wedding that hadn’t taken place to the fiancé she’d stood up at the altar. Not that he had any intention of asking Gina Mae about that particular detail. He just wanted to know more about the town’s newest resident. The one who looked really great, even late at night, and could laugh at herself with refreshing honesty.

“Ah, yes,” Gina Mae said, her sudden interest in the conversation making her push the half-eaten salad aside. “A very nice young woman from Houston. An interior decorator, I believe.”

He could hear the unspoken comment: a nice single young woman. “Miss Cummings,” he added, keeping his comments professional.

“That’s right. But you probably knew that before you went out to the house, didn’t you?”

Ethan frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Your aunt. That’s how I met Robin.”

“My aunt knows Miss Cummings?”

“You didn’t know? Well, yes. At least, she knows Robin Cummings’s great-aunt. They’re old friends.”

“Really,” Ethan said, his mind spinning with questions. Why hadn’t Aunt Bess mentioned her friend’s great-niece? Why had she arranged for Robin to move to Ranger Springs without letting him know?

“I hope I didn’t say anything wrong,” Gina Mae said, a frown creasing her smooth forehead. “Your aunt didn’t say any of this was a secret.”

“No, I’m sure it’s not. She probably just forgot to mention the connection.”

“Probably.”

Ethan stared at the faux marble Formica, wondering if Aunt Bess’s forgetfulness was deliberate or accidental. Maybe he should take off his police “hat” and start thinking like a nephew. Aunt Bess wasn’t getting any younger. Not only did she keep house for him, but she prepared several hearty meals a week. He’d told her time and again that she didn’t need to work so hard, that he could afford to hire help, but she’d insisted she enjoyed taking care of him and the house. She’d said she liked staying active and useful, especially since her husband’s death four years ago.

“Chief Parker?”

He mentally shook himself out of his musings. “Sorry, Gina Mae. I was just thinking about Aunt Bess.” He eased out of the booth, then retrieved his hat. “I hope I didn’t disturb your lunch.”

“No, not at all. You tell Bess hello for me, you hear?”

“I’ll do that. Have a good day.”

He walked out of the restaurant, ignoring more speculative looks that the townspeople might give him. He was sure Thelma and Joyce would find a reason to stop by Gina Mae’s booth after they finished their lunch, and that the men would try their best to overhear the conversation.

Okay by him. He hadn’t said anything that any of them could turn into gossip. After all, he hadn’t mentioned that he’d held Robin Cummings in his arms last night. Or stared at her bare legs and firmly rounded breasts. Or sat up late sipping coffee while they discussed wildlife.

Not his “wild life.” By anyone’s standards, his life-style was as tame as that of a baby animal at a petting zoo—without the petting. Again, that dreaded word—boring—insinuated itself into his mind. He pushed the thought aside.

Ethan jammed his hat on his head and walked back to his office at the municipal building. He could certainly recognize a mystery when presented with the evidence. And his own aunt held the clue.

AS ROBIN PULLED into the parking lot of a fast food restaurant on the outskirts of Ranger Springs, she was driving one of the only sporty coupes in an asphalt sea where pickup trucks and aging sedans rested like modest boats moored in a marina. Her heart skipped a beat when she spotted a police car in the first row, but she told herself that didn’t mean Ethan Parker was inside. One of his officers was probably taking a supper break.

While she waited in line, Robin looked around the seating area. Since she didn’t know anyone else in town yet, she searched for someone in a law enforcement uniform. Just out of curiosity, she told herself. She didn’t really expect to find the police chief having supper. But her eyes settled on the dark hair of a man with wide shoulders and perfect posture. His back was to her, and he was seated, not with a gorgeous girlfriend, but with an elderly lady who reminded her of her own great-aunt Sylvia.

“Miss? May I take your order?”

Now she jerked her attention back to the counter, where a perky blonde in bright polyester waited.

She placed her order, her glance returning to the man she thought might be Ethan Parker. He was dressed in street clothes, so she couldn’t tell without getting a glimpse of his profile.

Suddenly, the older lady caught her gaze, giving her a friendly little smile. Embarrassed, Robin smiled back automatically, then turned her attention to the plastic tray that awaited her burger and shake. She really shouldn’t ogle the locals. The man probably wasn’t Ethan Parker, anyway.

Except, how many guys in Ranger Springs could look anywhere near as good as the compassionate police chief?

A sense of traveling back in time rippled through her as she took her tray and proceeded back to the molded vinyl seats and booths. She half expected Crissy Caldwell, her best friend from high school, to scoot up beside her and ask if she’d seen that really gorgeous new hunk in chemistry class. Only this time, Robin was the “new kid in school,” and she was bound and determined not to blush when she deliberately walked by the broad-shouldered man with his white-haired companion.

Again, the older lady smiled at her. Robin slowed to get a good look at the man sitting across from the friendly woman.

“Are you, by any chance, Sylvia Murphy’s great-niece?” the lady asked.

Robin stopped abruptly. “Yes, I am. Robin Cummings.” Awareness hit, and Robin smiled with sincerity. “Don’t tell me you’re Bess Delgado!”

“Yes!” The older woman looked delighted. “I thought that was you from Sylvia’s description. She hasn’t sent a picture since you were a young teenager.”

“I suppose I have changed in fifteen years.” Robin laughed, her attention suddenly focused on the man trying to maneuver out of the booth to stand. “Please, don’t get up,” she said as her eyes traveled up the length of his jeans-clad legs, subtly plaid shirt and broad shoulders. Up to his handsome face and intense blue eyes.

She tried to keep the surprise out of her expression, but her voice sounded breathless when she said, “Police Chief Parker!”

“Hello, Miss Cummings,” he greeted her. Polite, but warm, she thought. Or maybe the warmth was coming from her. She felt her heart rate increase as the blood raced through her. Definitely high school days. She hadn’t felt this kind of excitement since the boy she’d had a crush on for years had asked her to Homecoming. She certainly hadn’t felt it for her fiancé.

Chapter Three

“Join us,” Bess requested in a tone of voice reserved for gracious-but-demanding older ladies. “I know you’ve met my nephew. Ethan was just scolding me for not telling him you’d moved to town.”

Robin placed her tray on the table, wondering on which side she should sit. Bess didn’t move, so Robin looked at Ethan. His broad shoulders took up most of the molded vinyl seat. With a slight smile, he politely slid over to make room.

“Really?” she answered. Why in the world would he expect his aunt to tell him about her?

“Now, Aunt Bess, I didn’t scold you. I was just surprised that you arranged for Miss Cummings to move to town, since you hadn’t mentioned your involvement.”

“Well, I can’t remember everything, can I?” she answered with a laugh. “I’m just glad there was a place available when Sylvia called. I knew our little town was just what you needed to…well, you know.”

“Um, yes.” Robin took a deep breath. A stab of guilt over her actions spoiled her appetite. Could she ever really live down walking out on her fiancé? She wasn’t sure, but she certainly didn’t want to discuss her personal life in this crowded restaurant. She smiled in her most convincing manner. “I’m sure I’ll be very happy here for a while.”

“Of course you will,” Bess said.

Of course I will. She just needed a little time. A little distraction. And at the moment, she couldn’t think of anything more distracting than the man sitting beside her. The man who’d held her in his arms last night.

Bess Delgado must be the woman who had called Ethan’s dispatcher to check up on him last night, Robin realized. The woman she’d thought was a girlfriend…or more. The thought of the sexy chief of police living with his doting aunt brought a secret smile to Robin’s face.

“My great-aunt Sylvia is going strong. She’s busy with the charity flower show right now.”

“Sylvia always did have a green thumb,” Bess said with a fond smile. “We met at the Tyler Rose Festival, back in the early fifties. We’ve been friends ever since, finding we had far more in common than our love of growing things.”

“Go ahead and eat your meal,” Ethan offered. “We promise not to keep you from your burger.”

Robin nodded, then automatically took a bite despite her waning appetite. Not filet mignon, but tasty. She refused to think about how many calories she was consuming, even though she no longer had to fit into a creamy-white designer wedding gown—with dozens of seed pearls and yards of lace, she reminded herself with a pang of longing. Not that she’d wanted to go through with the ceremony. But that dress had been her dream wedding gown, and she regretted having to store it for sometime in the future—sometime that might never come.

She felt self-conscious after a minute or so. Ethan and Bess had finished their meals and were taking sips of their beverages just to have something to do, Robin suspected. She placed her burger down and dabbed her mouth with the napkin. “I broke down the boxes and took the trash to the nearest Dumpster,” she told Ethan. “Maybe the raccoons will leave me alone tonight.”

“Oh, they’ll probably come around looking for a meal, but if they don’t find anything, they shouldn’t make any racket.”

“I wouldn’t want to call 9-1-1 again,” she teased, hoping to lighten her mood. “I’ll get a reputation as a crazy city woman.”

“Not as long as I back you up. I’ll be glad to vouch for the presence of wild animals.”

“But not dangerous ones,” she replied before taking a sip of milk shake.

He smiled slightly, his gaze straying to her lips as they puckered around the straw. “You never know.”

Robin felt a blush creeping up her neck. She hadn’t blushed in years. Maybe she was reverting back to high school behavior. Maybe she was just really confused about all her feelings lately. She just hoped Bess hadn’t noticed anything…strange in their banter. Robin didn’t want to give one of her great-aunt’s best friends the wrong idea.

Because she really wasn’t interested in getting involved with anyone. Even someone as handsome and compelling as Ethan Parker. Even if he did make her pulse race. She wasn’t going back to Gig, but eventually she’d return to her real life in Houston. To her business, friends and family. A short fling with a small-town lawman wasn’t in her nature.

“Robin, you must come over and visit me tomorrow. I know you probably have better things to do than spend your day with an old lady, but I’d just adore the company.”

“I’d love to visit,” she said sincerely. “Just tell me when and where.”

“I live with Ethan, you know. He needs someone to take care of him.”

The police chief moaned. “Aunt Bess, you know I can get by on my own. You’re living with me because we both want it that way. You’re family.”

“Of course, dear,” Bess said in a tone that meant I’m rolling my eyes at you.

Robin stifled a chuckle. “Is there someplace we could go for lunch?”

Ethan took one of his cards from his wallet badge and wrote his home address on it for her. “And this is our home number,” he said, looking up with his sparkling blue eyes, “just in case you need to report any midnight visitors and prefer to bypass the emergency operator.”

BESS WAITED UNTIL Ethan went outside to water the garden before she called Sylvia in Houston. Her longtime friend had a condo in the same building as Robin, and spent a lot of time with the girl. When Sylvia had called to say her great-niece had finally come to her senses and called off the wedding, Bess had heard the relief in her friend’s voice. Sylvia obviously hadn’t thought the match was a good one. And she thought Robin needed to get away for a while. Someplace nice and quiet, away from worrisome parents and upset, would-be in-laws. Not to mention the jilted fiancé.

Bess had cringed a bit at the knowledge that Robin’s young man’s hopes had been dashed. After all, she’d been through that before with…But that was another story, and she wanted to focus on Sylvia’s great-niece. So she’d thought of the lovely Franklin house, sitting vacant on that wooded lot. What a wonderful place for Robin to recuperate from her wounded pride.

“Sylvia,” Bess greeted her friend. “I met your lovely great-niece today.” She proceeded to tell Sylvia about the chance meeting between Robin and Ethan at the hamburger place. “You should have seen the two of them tonight. The sparks fairly flew!”

“You don’t say!”

“Yes, I do, and I’m all for it. Ethan has just about given up on finding a wife, and I know Robin is understandably shy about getting involved again. That’s why I think we need to give them a little push in the right direction.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“Well, I think I need a little vacation.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Ethan is already convinced I’m getting forgetful because I didn’t tell him Robin was moving in. He thinks I work too hard. If I went to San Antonio to visit Grace and Margaret at the retirement home, then Ethan would need someone to come by his house and check on him. Maybe fix him a home-cooked meal. Watch a little television with him.”

“I’m not sure…”

“Oh, I know this will work. All I need to do is ask Robin to help me out by looking after Ethan for a short time. Then you can call Ethan and ask him to watch out for Robin while she’s staying in town. You could suggest he take her to a movie, or out to dinner.”

“I thought you only had two restaurants and no movie theater.”

“We’re not that far from Fredericksburg or Kerrville. What could be more romantic than a nice evening drive through the Hill Country?”

“You have a point.”

“Of course I do! Oh, Sylvia, I know I’m right about this. Those two would be perfect for each other, if they could just spend enough time together to realize it.”

“You may be right, and I’ll be glad to go along. There’s just one thing you should know.”

“What’s that?”

“My dear, sweet Robin can’t even microwave a frozen dinner without burning it to crisp.”

“AUNT BESS, I’M HOME,” Ethan announced as he stepped from the late-afternoon heat into the air-conditioned kitchen.

Ethan’s shift had been fairly chaotic for a normally quiet, midweek day in the summer. Some cattle escaped their fence and wandered onto the state highway, leading to a two-car accident. No one was seriously injured, but he and his deputy had spent most of the afternoon directing traffic away from the evasive beasts.

As he pulled into his driveway about a half-hour late for dinner, he hoped Aunt Bess hadn’t fixed anything that might fall, congeal or generally taste terrible if it wasn’t served exactly on time. She was rather proud of her cooking, and rightly so. He’d rather be trampled by a dozen stray cows than disappoint his favorite relative.

A dozen different smells filled the air, but he couldn’t pinpoint what she’d prepared for dinner. The cabinet was lined with various plastic containers, each one neatly labeled in his aunt’s precise handwriting.

“Ethan, I’m glad you’re home,” his aunt said briskly. “I’ve had such a hectic day.”

“You and me, both.” He walked to the normally cheerful, uncomplaining lady and kissed her cheek. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, just this and that. I spent some time thinking about what you said the other day, and I’m afraid you’re right. Perhaps I do sometimes try to do too much.”

“You’re not feeling ill, are you? Did you fall, or—”

“No, no,” Bess said, waving off his questions. “Not yet, anyway. I’m just not as young as I once was, and today I realized I need to take things a bit easier.”

“I’ve been trying to tell you that, Aunt Bess.” Ethan placed his arm around her shoulder, noticing how small she was. Of course, she’d always been tiny, but now she seemed even more frail. He steered her away from the kitchen and back into the living room. “Have you been to the doctor? You’d tell me if something was wrong, wouldn’t you?”

“Of course I would, dear.” She patted his hand as he urged her to sit on the sofa. “But I’ve decided I need a little vacation. I’m going to visit Margaret and Grace in San Antonio for a week or so. I’ll leave tomorrow morning after you go to work. That way I’ll get in to San Antonio after the morning rush.”

“I’m sure you’ll have a great time with your friends. Just relax and don’t worry about a thing here. I’ll be fine.”

“I know you will, although I would feel better if I didn’t think you’d spend every night alone, watching baseball and reruns. Or working extra hours.” Bess sighed. “At least you won’t starve. I made some of your favorites—roast beef, meatballs and lasagna.”

His aunt didn’t paint a very flattering picture of him, although he couldn’t say it was totally inaccurate. He did enjoy an occasional baseball game in the evenings, and he had been known to go back to the office if he didn’t have a lot to do at home. But he also met with citizen groups and spoke on public safety. He filled in as an umpire at Little League games when one of the regulars couldn’t make it. And he worked out in the extra bedroom he’d set up with exercise equipment.

Ethan decided to deflect her fixation on his bachelor state, first by ignoring her comments, then by changing the subject. He’d learned more about evasive tactics in the last two years than he had during his FBI training.

His aunt pushed up from the couch and started toward the kitchen. “There is one thing you could do for me while I’m gone.”

“Anything, Aunt Bess. You know that.”

“Take a little time for yourself. Ask a nice young lady out to a movie and dinner. Don’t work all the time instead of sitting around the house.”

“Aunt Bess, this is a small town. The chief of police doesn’t need to be dating every single woman in the area.”

“How about just one single woman under the age of thirty-five?”

“There aren’t that many.”

“I can think of a few,” his aunt said in a knowing voice.

“I’m sure you can.” And one of them was no doubt the great-niece of Bess’s good friend in Houston. “I’m not looking for a relationship.”

“Then how about a little fun? It’s not normal for a man your age to be so, well…so celibate.”

“Aunt Bess!”

“Well, it’s not.” She left him standing in the doorway, shaking his head as she hustled off to prepare dinner. Just before she placed a casserole in the microwave, she turned back to him with a twinkle in her eye. “I swear, Ethan, half the men in the retirement home get more action than you do.”

SINCE ROBIN HAD LONG AGO unpacked her two suitcases, she had plenty of time to explore the house and make an inventory of items she needed from the store. Unfortunately, her current bank balance wasn’t nearly as healthy as her wish list. She’d have to economize while she was hiding out in Ranger Springs, but at least she had the satisfaction of knowing her bridesmaids had been reimbursed for their gowns and shoes.

Not that any of them had been hurting for money, but she would have felt even more remorse over calling off the wedding if she’d left them with the bill for clothes they’d probably never use again. After all, most of them had half a dozen used bridesmaid dresses hanging in the closet, if they hadn’t been donated to charity or taken to a consignment store. The difference between her and her friends was that her beautiful unused wedding gown now kept her bridesmaid dresses company.

She paused, her fingers clutching the pen and paper, as she imagined her friends and family wondering where she was, what she’d been thinking when she’d canceled the wedding just three weeks before she was to walk down the aisle with one of Houston’s most eligible men. Everyone except Great-aunt Sylvia had accepted her engagement to Gig Harrelson as a given.

Robin wasn’t sure what her aunt hadn’t liked about Gig. He was a former football player—albeit second-string at Texas A&M—with the blond hair and handsome features one would expect from a true “golden boy.” He came from one of the best families, circulated easily in several different social circles, and could relate well to both men and women. Gig was an asset to his father’s banking business and would have made a perfectly wonderful husband.

Maybe she didn’t want a perfect husband, Robin mused. Maybe Gig had been a little too perfect, from his straight white teeth to his designer sportswear. Had her heart ever raced when he’d held her in his arms? Had she felt juvenile excitement at just a glimpse of him across a crowded restaurant?

Maybe getting away to this small town, to a totally different environment, had been the best idea. Not because she wanted a relationship with another man, but because she needed to put the last one in perspective.

Shaking her head, Robin returned to her inventory, but was interrupted again when the phone rang.

“Hello?” she answered.

“Robin, dear, I’m so glad you’re home. I have a favor to ask.”

Since the days were stretching ahead of her like a blank slate, a favor for Bess Delgado sounded pretty good. “What can I do for you?”

“I’m taking a little vacation to San Antonio to visit some friends. Ethan is going to be home, though, and I just hate the thought of him all alone.”

Robin took the cordless phone and started pacing the living room. Oh, no. Surely Bess didn’t expect a stranger to keep her nephew company! Robin sure didn’t want to give the man the wrong idea by spending personal time with him.

“Robin?”

“Yes, I’m here.”

“I know you’re just in town for a short time, but I feel as though I’ve known you for most of your life. Your Great-aunt Sylvia was always telling me about your latest triumphs and tribulations. That’s why I’d like you to spend some time with Ethan. Like most bachelors, he’ll probably spend hours sitting in front of the television unless he has something to do.”

She should tell Bess “no.” All she had to do was think of some really good excuse, something that rang true, yet would let her great-aunt’s sweet friend down lightly.

Instead, she heard herself say, “What did you have in mind?”

“Oh, nothing major, dear. Just sharing a meal. You might suggest he take you around to see some of the sights. There’s a very scenic drive near Wimberley.”

Robin paused at the side window, looking out at the pecan trees and remembering the late-night ruckus that had brought Ethan to her house that first night. Recalling the way he’d held her so firmly and listened so compassionately to her explanation of everything from growing up in the city to running away from her wedding. “Bess, I’m not sure that’s a good idea. I’m sure Ethan has other things to do.”

“Oh, he works hard, but most of his friends around here are married couples, and busy with their own lives in the evenings. And he’s not dating anyone, so that wouldn’t be a problem.”

Robin scrambled for another excuse, this one closer to the real reason she needed to decline. “He might get the wrong idea.”

“You just tell him you’re new in town and you’d like a little company. I can’t imagine him turning you down.”

“I don’t want him to think I’m imposing on him.” Or worse yet, asking him out on a date.

“He won’t, dear. Ethan’s very nice. If he’s told me once, he’s told me a dozen times that he’s not looking for a steady girl.”

A steady girl. Robin had to smile as she strolled across the room. Had she ever heard that expression used? Probably when she’d been flipping through the old-movie channel and caught one of those Doris Day films from the fifties.

“I’d have such a better time with my friends if I knew Ethan wasn’t sitting home alone every night.”

Bess really knew how to pour on the guilt, Robin silently acknowledged. She sighed as she picked up a very good reproduction porcelain St. Charles spaniel on the mantel, then said, “I suppose I could give him a call, just to be friendly. I’m not so sure about suggesting anything as time-consuming as a drive through the country.”

“Whatever you’re comfortable with, dear.” Bess paused, giving Robin the impression the older lady was weighing her next words. “Perhaps the two of you could share a meal at Ethan’s house. I’ve fixed a variety of food. It’s all in the freezer.”

That sounded simple enough, but again, Robin wasn’t entirely comfortable with asking herself into Ethan’s personal world. Going to his house and rummaging through his freezer seemed so…intimate. Interacting with him in his professional capacity, or even seeing him in public was a different matter.

“I’ll think about it, Bess. That’s all I can promise. I just don’t want him to feel uncomfortable.”

“I’m sure Ethan will be glad to hear from you. I just know he’ll get lonely while I’m gone,” Bess added with a sigh.

Robin wondered if she’d have the nerve to pick up the phone and give the good-looking police chief a nice, friendly call. For the second time that week, she felt as though she’d slipped back into high school. Only this time, a member of the older generation was encouraging her to ask a boy out for a date instead of telling her that good girls simply didn’t do that sort of thing.

Robin placed the white-and-brown china dog back on the mantel. Oh, for the good old days.

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