“Sorry if I’ve kept you up too late.”

What an apology. In the best of all possible worlds, Sam could keep her up all night. No complaints.

But this was the real world. With real limitations and consequences. And Julia had to go up to her bed.

Alone.

“Thanks for inviting me to stay.”

She could barely think, barely breathe, with him standing so close to her.

“We never got a chance to talk about Lester and Lucy,” she realised.

“Not get into another argument, you mean?” He lifted her chin with his fingertip, so that she was looking into his eyes again. And couldn’t look away.

And didn’t want to.

“I’d rather not argue with you, Julia. In fact, I think I’m done talking altogether.”

Before Julia could say a word more, he pulled her close. She felt as if she didn’t have a chance. Didn’t have a choice…

Available in July 2009
from Mills & Boon® Cherish

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by Diana Palmer

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by Susan Crosby

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by Stella Bagwell

The Prince’s Royal Dilemma

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The Baby Plan

by Kate Little

KATE LITTLE

claims to have lots of experience with romance–“the fictional kind, that is,” she is quick to clarify. She has been both an author and an editor of romance fiction for over fifteen years. She believes that a good romance novel will make the reader experience all the tension, thrills and agony of falling madly, deeply and wildly in love. She enjoys watching the characters in her books go crazy for each other, but she hates to see the blissful couple disappear when it’s time for them to live happily ever after. In addition to writing romance novels, Kate also writes fiction and nonfiction for young adults. She lives on Long Island, New York, with her husband and daughter.

The Baby Plan
KATE LITTLE

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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Chapter One

Something was up.

Julia Martinelli had a funny feeling. She’d developed a sixth sense for these things by now. An uncanny radar for her mother’s imminent romantic misadventures.

Her mother’s invitation for dinner had sounded innocent enough. They lived in the same town, the place where Julia had been raised, and got together at least once a week for dinner or lunch, or just to say hello over coffee.

But for some inexplicable reason, Julia’s skin went all shivery with goose bumps during this particular call. Something in her mother’s tone signaled Watch out. Something’s cooking. It’s not just Mom’s special meat loaf.

Julia didn’t ask any questions. She didn’t want to seem overly suspicious. Her mother had become very sensitive to any inquiries about her love life and Julia had to tiptoe around the subject these days, which wasn’t easy. Her mother was a master at avoiding a straight answer.

“You’re always imagining things, dear,” Lucy Martinelli would claim. As if Julia was the one with the problem—or “issues” as folks on TV talk shows liked to say.

Julia knew she did have a few “issues” about romance: the greatest one being, she couldn’t find much of it. Not the kind she was looking for. Her mother, on the other hand, found more than enough for anyone. Especially a woman her age. Which was often…a problem.

As Julia drove over to her mother’s after work on Friday night, she was gripped by the same unnerving sensation, and the palms of her hands were clammy on the steering wheel. Was she only imagining things? She dearly hoped so.

In the small town of Blue Lake, Vermont, Julia’s mother Lucy was known as “The Merry Widow”—though technically speaking, only two of Lucy’s four husbands had died.

Marriages two and four had ended in divorce. Which did not bode well for husband Number Five, Julia thought, if and when he arrived. The odd-numbered husbands seemed to have a high mortality rate.

All things considered, it was more a matter of when than if. Julia just knew Number Five was out there somewhere, hovering on the horizon. A new chapter in her mother’s relationship saga, which Julia often thought could provide more than enough material for some thick, juicy novel or a made-for-TV movie.

Married first to her high school sweetheart, Lucy became a widow at the tender age of twenty-one, when her young husband died in a boating accident. She next married Julia’s father, Tom Martinelli, a local attorney. That union lasted over twenty years, though Julia knew now that her parents had stayed together mainly because of her, both feeling out of synch with their spouse, but committed to giving their only child a stable family life.

It wasn’t an unhappy household, though even as a child Julia sensed something was missing between her parents. As a grown woman, she decided she’d never make that same choice—to stay stuck in a loveless relationship.

Her parents divorced while Julia was in college. Her father had since retired and moved to Florida with his second wife, Adele, a former elementary school teacher. They played a lot of golf and were ardent fans of the History Channel—pastimes that had never interested Julia’s mother.

Julia loved her father dearly and knew she took after him more in temperament, but she was still objective enough to see her mom was definitely having more fun.

Shortly after the divorce, Lucy took a weekend jaunt to Las Vegas with some girlfriends. There she met and married a retired Texas businessman, fell head over heels and walked up the aisle that very weekend in the tackiest of Vegas wedding chapels.

Julia had not been present, but the blurry instant photos told the whole story. Earl T. Walker was a lovely man, but much older than Lucy. He died from a sudden heart attack a few weeks before the couple’s third anniversary.

Lucy inherited a sizable portion of Earl’s estate, but there was nothing left for her in Texas. She’d never taken well to the wide open spaces and Lucy soon returned to Blue Lake. She’d never sold her house there so it was easy to settle back into the community, her old routines and connections. She found plenty of sympathy from her friends and from Julia. But at least Lucy had found some years of happiness during her brief third marriage, unlike some people who never find anyone to love.

Encouraged by that success, Lucy’s next husband, number four, appeared with jaw-dropping speed. He was clearly a rebound match, with Lucy falling for the agent who handled the life insurance claim on number three. Before anyone could say double indemnity, it was back to the divorce courts.

Now, here they were. Lucy had lasted several years in the single life, but remained undaunted in her quest to find true love. All things considered, it seemed only a matter of time before Number Five arrived. Her mother was still attractive, in good health and rarely without a date on a Saturday night. She just had a knack for meeting men without even trying.

After all she’d been through, Lucy had never once spoken a single word against matrimony, or soured toward the institution in any way. After being twice widowed and twice divorced, she certainly had enough assets to live independently in fine style for the rest of her days. But marriage meant more to Lucy than financial security. Julia knew her mother’s lace-trimmed valentine heart still yearned to find her perfect match, her “soul mate.” She totally believed in the notion that such a man existed.

Julia didn’t believe in soul mates. Or love at first sight, or any of those worn-out clichés, none of which could describe Lucy’s romantic philosophy. Maybe she was too rational about male-female relationships. Someone in the family had to be.

Julia hadn’t always been this way. Time and experience had worn down her romantic spirit and given her a more realistic view. Julia was actually a bit envious of her mother. Not of Lucy’s addiction to walking down the aisle, but of her unflagging optimism. Julia was secretly starting to lose hope of ever finding Mr. Right. Or even Mr. Fixer-Upper.

Julia sometimes wondered if she really wanted a husband at all. Being perfectly honest with herself, she seemed to have reached the point when the only thing she really wanted was a baby.

As she slowly but surely approached her thirty-second birthday, the biological messages to make a baby were flashing like a warning system gone berserk. She’d just about given up taking the traditional route of romance and marriage.

Julia had only once admitted this aloud to her best pal, Rachel Reilly. Rachel was the perfect advisor on the subject, having faced the same dilemma a little over two years ago when her fiancé had left her at the altar. She’d decided not to wait for a man to give her the life she wanted and had taken a courageous leap, becoming a single mother by choice as a client of a sperm bank.

Julia admired Rachel’s courage and decisiveness. She often wondered if she could ever do the same. As it turned out, Jack Sawyer, the sperm donor dad, eventually sought out Rachel and their little boy. Miraculously, Rachel and Jack eventually found their own happily ever after.

Julia knew their story was a heartwarming fluke. She knew if she took that route, she’d have to be prepared to do it all on her own.

Every time she considered it, the complications of living in a small town where people still clung dearly to traditional ideas about marriage and child-rearing seemed too big an obstacle. Julia was a successful Realtor with a high profile in the community. Having a baby on her own would stir up a storm of gossip. Living under the cloud of her mother’s misadventures had been enough public attention. Julia knew for certain she didn’t want the whole town talking about her, too.

Her livelihood would definitely suffer. Not that she was materialistic, but she had to think about supporting a child.

Mulling over all these familiar questions that never seemed to have answers, Julia drove through the village toward her mother’s house. It was a clear winter night in late February. A fresh dusting of snow made the winding streets and quaint houses look cozy and inviting, like an illustration from a picture book.

Julia knew practically every house on every lane from attic to cellar. And she knew the people within, the previous owners and the ones before that. She loved living in Blue Lake and was a perfect town-booster to newcomers searching for a country retreat or locating out of the city. Which was just the way she and Rachel had first met and become fast friends.

Rachel teased her now about running for mayor. But Julia wasn’t interested in politics. Besides, she knew the job wouldn’t work with the role of motherhood any better than her present profession.

As much as she loved Blue Lake, these days she’d started to regret never taking her chance out in the wide world, where she could be anonymous and private, casting her line in a larger pool of slippery, hard-to-reel-in bachelors.

Maybe the same rule applied to finding a husband as finding a house. Location. Location. Location.

How had she ended up here all this time anyway? She’d always meant to leave. But she’d married a hometown boyfriend right after college and by the time they divorced, her business was firmly established. And it also seemed important by then to stick around to keep an eye on Lucy. As an only child, she felt even more responsible.

Attractive and charming, in a field where she met new people all the time, Julia never lacked invitations from eligible men…and even some that weren’t so eligible. She joked to her friends that she’d dated every male possibility in a fifty-mile radius. But it wasn’t really a joke and those relationships never seemed to lead anywhere.

All she really wanted was a mature, solid relationship. A meeting of the minds…and hearts. Someone she could respect and get along with. Someone who wanted the same things in life she did. Was that so much to ask?

There had to be a spark, of course. Chemistry. Attraction. Julia wasn’t so practical-minded that she’d skip all those heady feelings. Still, being totally swept off her feet scared her, because she knew it could never last. Case in point—her mother. Lucy was always being swept off her feet. Struck by lightning. Head over heels on a first date, before the waiter had even taken her dinner order.

Did any of it last? Of course not.

Julia knew it took a lot for her to fall in love. She knew that her unhappy marriage and divorce made her wary. Sometimes she thought she was too particular. She couldn’t help it. She wasn’t going to get married again just to show the world and herself—and maybe even her mother—that she could.

Meanwhile, her mother was exactly the opposite, in and out of relationships, dating and dumping or being dumped and moving on to the next partner. Her love life was a game of musical chairs and every time she landed, she was sure “This is it!”

Had her mother landed anywhere lately? Lucy hadn’t mentioned dating anyone special that Julia could recall. But her mother was so chatty during their phone calls, Julia knew she may have missed some crucial information while multitasking.

Julia turned down Magnolia Way and pulled into the driveway at her mother’s house. The depressing vision of herself at her mother’s age, living alone, surrounded by cats, rose up to fill her mind. No matter that her mother didn’t have any cats.

She pushed the image out of view. Her mother would doubtlessly ask about her social life tonight and Julia knew it was important to put a positive, upbeat face on the situation. When in fact, it was anything but.

Seven o’clock sharp, Julia stood at the front door, a box from the bakery in hand. A triple-layer chocolate cake laden with chocolate icing. Julia normally stayed away from such potent treats, but it was Lucy’s favorite. Her mother was an unrepentant chocoholic, always had been, stashing candy bars around the house when Julia was growing up. She never knew where she might find them.

Julia had read somewhere that an ingredient in chocolate triggered the same hormonal fireworks in the brain that were set off when people fell in love. No wonder Lucy couldn’t go a day without her Hershey’s Kisses. If the little foil-wrapped version would keep her away from the real ones, Julia was all for it.

She knocked once and the door sprang open. As if Lucy had been standing in the foyer, waiting for her.

“There you are. Right on time. You’re always so punctual, dear. You don’t take after me that way.”

It was a good thing, Julia thought. In more ways than one.

Lucy smiled, then raised herself on tiptoe to kiss Julia’s cheek.

At five foot ten Julia was taller than most women, including her mother, who was stood at a petite five foot three. It had been awkward to be so tall when she was a teenager. Especially before any of the boys had caught up. By now, she’d learned to live with it. Even enjoy it. She had the slim build and long legs to pull it off with enviable elegance. When she entered a meeting room for a tough negotiation, it definitely helped to meet her adversaries—most of them male—eye-to-eye.

Lucy helped her off with her coat and hung it in the closet.

“Don’t you look nice,” Lucy said. “I love you in red. Bold colors suit you, Julia. Not so much of that dull black and gray. They make a blonde look too washed out.”

“Yes, Mom. So you’ve told me.”

“And that necklace is nice, too. Very stylish.”

Julia smiled at her mother’s backhanded compliment. All her life, Lucy had been coaxing her to wear “bold colors” and not look so “washed out.” Also to “accessorize.” Though her mother usually said it more like a battle cry—Julia! Accessorize!

Julia’s tastes tended toward more subdued tones and few adornments. Especially for business meetings with bankers and lawyers. Her mother didn’t seem to get it.

Today she’d been running an open house, and wore an outfit somewhere between “bold” and businesslike—a wrap-style burgundy sweater, a slim gray wool skirt and black boots. Not her usual mode of dress, but she was pleased her fashion-conscious mother approved of it. Lucy, as usual, was dressed stylishly, in a print dress of soft fabric with long sleeves, and sling-back, high-heeled shoes. A bit fancy for their little one-on-one dinner, Julia thought. But she guessed her mother had probably been out today, at a luncheon or something. It didn’t take much encouragement for Lucy to dress up.

Julia followed her mother into the kitchen and handed over the bakery box. “Here’s some dessert, Mom. It should probably go in the fridge.”

Lucy stared down at the box, as pleased and excited as a child. “Chocolate, I hope?”

“Do they even bake any other kind of cake, Mom?”

“They probably do. I never noticed.” Lucy grinned and slipped the cake box into the refrigerator.

She took out a bottle of white wine and poured it out into two glasses that stood on the countertop, next to two platters of hors d’oeuvres.

“Try my dip,” Lucy urged her. “It’s goat cheese spread. A new recipe. Goat cheese is very…gourmet you know,” Lucy added.

“So I have heard.” Julia smiled and spread a taste on a cracker. She ate out a lot more than her mother and also watched a lot of cooking shows. She was a bit better versed on the current stylish foods. Her mother’s idea of exotic cheese had always been a jalapeño cheddar. It was amusing to see her tastes branching out.

“Very good, Mom,” she said, though she did wonder why her mother had gone to so much trouble for one of their weekly dinners. Julia picked up her wineglass. “This is a pleasant way to end the week. Cheers.”

“Cheers, dear,” Lucy touched her glass to Julia’s. It made a faint, bell-like sound. They each took a sip.

Then Lucy peered up at Julia over the edge of her glass.

“I just have to heat the green beans and finish the table,” she said. “Oh…and Lester is coming. He’ll be here any minute.” She added this last bit of information as if she’d just remembered.

Julia stared back, her expression resigned. She knew very well her mother had not just remembered. She was now sure this surprise guest star—her mother’s latest beau, most likely—was the entire reason for the get-together.

“I don’t remember you talking about a Lester lately, Mother.”

“Lester Baxter? I talk about him all the time. You just haven’t been paying attention, dear. I know when you call me from work you’re listening with half an ear…or less.”

Julia didn’t answer. The accusation rang true. Though she needed a scorecard to keep track of Lucy’s social life—even if she did pay attention.

“We’ve been seeing a lot of each other lately,” Lucy added quickly. “He’s very excited to meet you.”

Oh, dear. This sounded serious. Julia took a large swallow of her chardonnay. She didn’t want to overreact. That would only make her mother defensive.

“So…where did you guys meet?” She tried to sound casual and chatty, like a girlfriend, but knew it came out more like a friendly detective.

Her mother pulled open a cabinet door and began to take out dishes. “We met right here. In the kitchen. Romantic, right?”

Julia struggled to keep from rolling her eyes.

“Mom, you think everything is romantic. I suppose you’d think it was just divine if a guy came over to unstuff the garbage disposal.”

Lucy stared at her a moment, then laughed. “Well, you must have been tuned in a few times when I spoke about him. You remembered that much.”

Julia’s mouth hung open. She’d meant it as a joke. A rather sarcastic one at that. Seemed the joke was on her.

“Lester repairs appliances?”

Lucy nodded. She went to the drawer next to the stove and counted out silverware. “Eleanor next door recommended him. The man I used to call, Stanley Alcott…? He retired. So when the disposal broke down, I called Lester. He came right over. Very prompt and polite. A real gentleman. Didn’t leave any mess and he didn’t overcharge. We got to talking, of course….” Of course there was talking, knowing her mother, who could learn a person’s entire life story in the “ten items or less” line.

“He needed to order a special part and came back a few days later….”

Julia could just picture it. For Lester’s second visit, her mother probably got a facial and a manicure and prepared a special lunch. Served on the good china.

She knew how Lucy operated once she had her eye on a man. Julia didn’t need to hear any more.

“It’s okay, Mom. I get the picture.”

“We got along so well. So in tune. Right from the first.”

Lucy shook her head, a soft smile lighting her face. Remembering those early moments of the courtship, Julia guessed, as Lester diagnosed and unclogged the ailing disposal, then lunched on Lucy’s notorious “stuffed tomato.”

Kismet.

“How long ago was that? When you met, I mean,” Julia asked.

Lucy shrugged. She carefully rolled a linen napkin and slipped it into a shiny silver ring. “Let’s see…about a month or so, I guess. It’s hard to remember. It feels like I’ve known Les my whole life. I just feel so…comfortable with him.”

Julia nodded, not daring to say a word.

This was how it always started.

Julia knew now she’d been right to suspect that something was going on. Lester Baxter was going on.

Julia picked up the tray with the dishes and silverware and carried it into the dining room, then helped her mother set up the table.

“How old is he?” she asked.

“A few years older than me. But not too old.” Lucy glanced up briefly. Julia knew she was thinking about Earl T. Walker and his unfortunate demise.

“He’s ready to retire. He’s had enough of fixing appliances. But he wants to keep busy. Start a whole new business. He has some exciting plans. He’s not one of these men who just want to loaf around under a palm tree and play golf for the rest of their life.”

Julia knew her mother was talking about her ex-husband now, Julia’s father. Perhaps Lucy had been widowed three times, if you count being a golf widow while married to Tom Martinelli.

The doorbell rang. Lucy set down the napkins. She flapped her hands in the air.

“That must be him, now. Come with me, Julia. Come say hello.” She coaxed her daughter, tugging on Julia’s sleeve as if she were nine instead of thirty-one.

Lucy smoothed her dress and quickly checked her lipstick in the foyer mirror. Julia thought her Mom looked great. As usual.

For a woman in her late fifties, her mother still dressed with style and had a great figure—owing to her yoga and Jazzercise classes. She even still wore sexy high heels, the kind Julia mainly avoided due to her height and because they were so darned uncomfortable. Who was benefitting from all that agony anyway? Men, of course. Pure exploitation, Julia believed.

But Lucy didn’t have a feminist bone in her body. Including her feet. She didn’t understand what Julia meant, calling it exploitation. She enjoyed being admired. “Isn’t that what it was all about?” she’d once asked her daughter.

Julia had long ago given up trying to enlighten her. There was clearly no chance of changing Lucy’s thinking at this point about the power struggle in male-female relationships. She obviously didn’t think there was any.

Ready for the games to begin, Lucy pulled open the door with a welcoming smile that stretched from hoop earring to hoop earring.

The man on the other side of the door wore as smile just as wide.

Julia took in his looks with a glance. Medium height with a round face, bright blue eyes and a warm, friendly expression that distracted from his shiny bald head.

Nicely dressed, Julia thought. While she hadn’t expected him to wear a uniform with his name on the pocket, the brown tweed sports coat, pale yellow wool vest and patterned tie looked rather country club-ish.

He was no movie star however. Not even an aging one. But not bad-looking, she amended. Most of all, Lester Baxter looked…friendly. Kind. Even patient. The type of man who would find her mother’s eccentricities charming and endearing.

Julia wasn’t sure how she could tell all that from just a glance. But she could.

He held out a huge bouquet of pink roses and offered them to Lucy. “Some flowers for the hostess.”

He handed them down to her, looking eager to see if the gift was pleasing. Lucy accepted the bouquet with a radiant smile. “Lester…you shouldn’t have. They’re just beautiful.”

“Just like you. You look like Miss America holding that bouquet, Lucy. I wish I had a camera,” Lester teased.

“Oh, stop.” Lucy shook her head, but Julia knew she was definitely enjoying the compliments and could have had him go on all night.

Julia sighed and rolled her eyes. This was worse than she imagined. Much worse.

“I brought you another surprise,” he added. “I told you my son was coming down from Boston for a visit? Well, he got to town a little sooner than I expected. He pulled up to the house just as I was walking out the door, so I brought him along. I hope you don’t mind?”

“Oh…of course not. Come in, come in….” Lucy stepped aside and Julia could see now that another man stood just behind Lester. He must have purposely been standing aside, waiting out of view.

Now he stepped into the light. He glanced at Lucy and smiled briefly. Then looked up, over Lucy’s head, at Julia.

Their eyes met. Julia felt her mouth go dry, her heartbeat go from zero to a hundred and ten in two seconds flat.

Lester—the bald, paunchy, eager-to-please repair man—had fathered that?

Impossible.

Lester’s son must have been adopted. He was without question the very definition of tall, dark and totally hot.

He stepped through the doorway, towering over all of them, Julia included. She rarely had to tip her head back to make eye contact with a man. But now she found herself staring up at him. And they were all in such close quarters in the small entrance to Lucy’s house. At least, it suddenly seemed much smaller and crowded, Julia thought. Draped in a dark leather jacket, his shoulders looked endlessly wide, his dark eyes looked endlessly deep.

“Sam, this is Lucy Martinelli. My Lucy,” he added, with a meaningful glance at Julia’s mother.

Sam Baxter held out his hand to Lucy and flashed a brief but brilliant smile. Julia blinked as the gesture transformed his features so completely from serious to something that was warm and full of light. Deep dimples creased the lean cheeks. His teeth were white and strong. Tiny lines fanned out at the sides of his eyes, a rich, dark, chocolaty shade of brown.

“Lucy…great to meet you. My father’s told me a lot about you.”

“And I’ve heard so much about you, Sam. I feel as if I already know you, dear,” Lucy said.

Sam shook his head, looking almost boyishly embarrassed. He glanced at his father. “I hope he hasn’t been boring you.”

“I can’t help bragging about my boy,” Lester laughed and patted his son on the arm. “And this must be Julia. Lucy told me plenty about you, too, young lady….”

Lester turned to Julia. It seemed that everyone else had forgotten she was there.

Lester gave Julia’s hand a hardy shake. “Good to meet you, dear.”

“Nice to meet you, Lester.” Julia smiled cordially.

It was hard not to like Lester. She made a sincere effort to match his enthusiasm—despite having only first heard of his existence five minutes ago.

She felt Sam Baxter staring at her. She looked up at him. No dazzling smile for her. To the contrary, his expression was serious again. His eyes, unreadable. He didn’t offer his hand and introduce himself, and for some reason, she felt relieved instead of slighted.

“Sorry to barge in. My father insisted I stop by for a minute and say hello….”

Sam’s apology was meant for her mother, Julia knew. Yet he addressed it to her.

She met his glance again. Just like the first time, she felt her mouth go dry, her polished conversation skills deserting her.

What in the world was going on here? When had she gotten so tongue-tied around a man? Silly…Had to be the wine. It had gone straight to her head. She’d never been able to drink on an empty stomach.

Before Julia had a chance to answer, her mother stepped forward and took Sam by the arm.

“Nonsense. Come inside and make yourself comfortable. You must stay for dinner. Lester, tell him he has to stay.”

“Of course he’ll stay,” Lester insisted, following them.

The seniors were double-teaming him. He didn’t stand a chance. He’d soon agree, Julia predicted, just to be polite.

The idea of spending the evening making small talk with Sam Baxter made Julia uneasy, but she brushed the feeling aside. She was just tired after a long workday, where she had to be polite and friendly to strangers all day at her job. Now she was forced to do it all night. Her annoyance had nothing to do with him.

“Well…maybe for a few minutes,” Sam Baxter said.

“Wait ’til you try her cooking. You’re in for a treat.”

“Lester, please. Your son is in the business. He’s not going to be impressed with my simple home cooking.”

“Don’t listen to her. You’ll see. You’ll be asking for her recipes,” Lester promised.

Julia thought her mother was a good cook and Lester’s lavish compliments were at least in the ballpark this time.

She wondered what Lester meant by Sam being in the business. Most chefs she’d ever met, even the younger ones, didn’t have Sam’s lean, fit body. Even the guys on TV. There was definitely something sexy about a man who cooked, though. An image of this man in chef’s whites, an intimidating force in a hot, steamy commercial kitchen was very…distracting.

“Come. Sit down. Relax.” Lucy herded everyone into the living room, though she didn’t sit down herself, Julia noticed.

Sam sat on one end of the long pillow-back couch and Lester sat on the other. Julia took an armchair.

She crossed her long legs, then noticed Sam’s eyes following her movement as she tugged her skirt down over her knee. Checking her out? She felt blood rush up her cheeks and hoped she wasn’t blushing.

“I have some cheese spread and nibbles in the kitchen. I’ll just run out and get them.” Lucy glanced at Lester, who sat on the couch near Sam. Julia wasn’t surprised when Lester quickly rose, as well.

“I’ll help you, dear.” Lester jumped up and followed Lucy like a loyal pet.

From the gleam in his eye, Julia guessed he was not only eager to help his hostess, but steal a little private time. Julia hoped they didn’t take too long. For one thing, it could get embarrassing. For another, she already felt uncomfortable being left alone with the tall, dark and smoldering son.

Julia looked over at Sam. “They might take a while out there,” he said quietly.

So he’d picked up on the same hints.

She glanced at him but didn’t know what to say. A seasoned saleswoman, she was rarely at a loss on how to start a conversation. She’d even taught classes on the topic, for goodness’ sake.

The polite thing to do would be to ask Sam what sort of work he did exactly, what had brought him down to Vermont from Boston. That sort of thing.

But some errant impulse caused her to start off on a completely different track.

“Did your father really tell you much about my mother? Or did you just say that to be polite?”

He looked surprised at her direct manner. But not at all offended. Maybe more like amused, she thought.

“The last few weeks, he hardly talked about anything else. It’s Lucy, Lucy, Lucy. Why do you ask?”

Julia shrugged. She picked a thread off her skirt. “I didn’t hear a word about your father until about fifteen minutes ago. Or maybe I did and I wasn’t paying attention…Does your father date very much?”

His eyes narrowed. Now he did look a bit offended. Or at least, taken aback by her question. “Are you suspicious of his intentions? He’s a very sincere person.”

“I’m sure he’s sincere. He’s seem very nice. Really,” she assured him. “My mother is very social. I just don’t want him to get…disappointed.”

She could tell he was definitely fighting a smile now. The corners of his mouth twitched and she nearly caught another glimpse of those devastating dimples. The entire gesture was utterly tantalizing.

“Don’t worry about my dad. He’s been out in the single scene a long time. He can take care of himself.”

Lester might think he was the James Bond of the AARP set. His son might think so, as well. But they had never encountered the likes of Lucy.

She glanced toward the kitchen. No sign of the lovebirds. After they’d first disappeared, she’d heard them talking back there, but now there was only silence.

Bad sign.

She turned back to Sam, leaning forward a bit in her chair. “Do you think this is serious?” she whispered.

“Excuse me?” He leaned toward her, trying to hear what she was saying. They were suddenly face-to-face, closer than she expected. The scent of his spicy cologne filled her senses. His cheeks were shadowed by a day’s growth of beard, lending a slightly scruffy and totally male edge to his handsome looks.

“I said…do you think it’s serious? Between our parents, I mean.”

“Looks pretty serious to me. They’re crazy about each other. Haven’t you noticed?” His deep, hushed tone was disturbingly intimate.

Julia leaned back and took a deep breath. She didn’t know if she was more disturbed by the message or the messenger.

Julia sighed. She swept her long hair to one side, back over her shoulder. Again, she found him watching her, his eyes following the movement.

“My mother’s been married…several times. Does your father know that?” she said finally, perhaps a bit sharper than she intended.

“He mentioned it. It doesn’t seem to bother him.”

“He’d be number five,” Julia persisted, whispering as she glanced over her shoulder again.

He finally showed some reaction. His eyes widened. “That’s quite a record. I’m not sure if he’s done the math.”

Now it was Julia’s turn to sound defensive. “There have been good reasons why her relationships didn’t work out. I mean, she was widowed twice. That certainly wasn’t her fault.”

“Of course not,” he agreed, yet still looked wary.

Before Julia could say anything more in Lucy’s defense, she heard the cooing twosome fluttering back into the room.

“So…you work in the restaurant business. Are you a cook or something?” she asked Sam in a loud, polite tone.

He looked straight into her eyes, signaling he was in sync with her cover-up. “Yes, I’m a chef. I’ve just left a position at a big restaurant so I could open my own place with a partner.”

The independent type. Julia thought she should have guessed that. He looked like someone who didn’t have the patience to take orders from a boss. From anyone, for that matter.

“That’s sounds exciting,” she said sincerely.

“It can be. Not always in a good way. My partner knows nothing about the business…except that he likes to eat out a lot. But I guess that’s the reason a lot of rich people want to invest in a restaurant.”

Sam smiled briefly, causing that curious buzz in her brain again. Julia valiantly shook it off.

She wondered how long he’d be in town visiting his father. But she didn’t want to ask and sound too…interested.

What did it matter to her? She just had to get through the evening.

As if on cue, the older couple returned. Her mother set down the dish of cheese and crackers on the coffee table. Lester followed with the bowl of dip. Then they stepped back and stood side by side, as if performing a rehearsed dance step.

Lester glanced shyly at Lucy and took her hand. Lucy blushed and looked down at the floor.

Julia sat forward in her seat, her tingling intuition lighting up like a pinball machine.

“Kids…we have something to tell you,” Lester began.

Julia cast a desperate look at her mother but couldn’t catch her eye. Her gaze darted over to Sam, but he was staring at his father.

“We were going to wait. But since we have both of you here with us tonight, Lucy and I decided…”

Lester swallowed a big lump in his throat, his old eyes misting over. Julia nearly jumped out of her seat and shook him.

“Say it already!” she wanted to scream.

Then he did. Julia held her breath and felt an urge to cover her eyes with her hands, as if she were watching a horror movie.

“This lovely lady at my side has agreed to be my wife.”

He turned to Lucy and planted a huge, wet, noisy kiss on her cheek. Lucy grinned, looking a bit tearful, too. She briefly hugged him. “Oh…Lester.”

Then she met Julia’s eye. Looking apologetic? More like a little kid who’d been caught doing something they shouldn’t, but didn’t want the teacher to be mad at them.

“Oh, Mom…you didn’t…” Julia sighed.

Lucy may have answered. Julia wasn’t sure. The image of her mother grew blurry…along with the rest of the room. She suddenly felt the room spinning and lifted her hand to her forehead, afraid she might faint.

She struggled to remain upright in her chair but felt herself losing control. Pitching forward.

Everyone in the room shouted at once. Though she couldn’t make out a word of it.

The last thing she remembered was her mother’s carefully polished coffee table, coming closer. And closer…

Then a strange but wonderful sensation as—instead of a crash-landing into solid oak—she felt her limp body being caught and cushioned in the strong embrace of Sam Baxter.

Chapter Two

“Julia? Sweetheart? Are you okay?”

Floating back up to consciousness, Julia heard her mother’s voice. But saw only Sam’s gorgeous face, his concerned expression, hovering above.

She seemed to be lying flat out on the living-room floor. On her mother’s scratchy area rug. Sam was crouched on one side, her mother on the other.

“I’m all right,” she insisted.

She tried to sound normal, but her voice came out shaky. She started to sit up, but Sam rested one big hand firmly on her shoulder. “Not so fast. What’s the rush?”

She felt…mortified to have fainted dead away like that. She wished she could just crawl off into some convenient hole.

“I’d like to sit up now,” she insisted.

Finally, Sam leaned back and let her go. Julia stared down at herself, then hurried to straighten out her clothing. During her flight, the wrap-style sweater had gotten unwrapped, exposing most of her lace-trimmed bra, and her skirt had hiked up to midthigh. She hurriedly covered herself, glancing sideways at Sam as she fussed. A twitch in his stoic expression revealed that he hadn’t missed much.

What else is going to happen tonight? Maybe my hair will catch on fire.

“How about a glass of water?” Lester appeared behind Lucy and handed Julia some water. She took a long swallow, grateful for something to do while they all stared at her.

“I’m okay. Really. Probably just hungry. I skipped lunch,” Julia explained, concocting a quick excuse.

Her mother still looked concerned. “Are you sure that’s all it is, sweetheart? Does it hurt anywhere?”

Lucy lovingly felt Julia’s forehead, the same way she had done all through her childhood. Julia felt a pang of love. How could she admit the real reason she’d fainted?

“I’m fine, Mom. Really.”

“She works too hard,” Lucy told the others. “Seven days a week. A regular workaholic—”

“Why don’t we all just sit down and start dinner?” Julia interrupted, feeling even more mortified by her mother’s diagnosis.

Julia started to stand up. Sam quickly stepped up beside her, slipping one arm around her waist and one under her arm to steady her balance. The contact was brief but electric, making her head spin all over again.

She caught her balance, then took a quick step away from him. But she couldn’t help glancing back over her shoulder to make eye contact. It was hard to tell what he was thinking.

She wasn’t sure she even wanted to know.

“Are you sure you feel up to it, honey?” Lucy stepped closer and put her hand on Julia’s cheek. “Maybe we should call a doctor.”

“No reason for that, Mother. Honest. Dinner is going to be ruined if we wait any longer. I’m sure you’ve been cooking all day.”

Finally, Lucy gave in. “Okay, then. Into the dining room everyone. Julia’s right. The roast will be all dried out if we wait any longer.”

They were soon all seated in Lucy’s dining room. Lucy sat across from Lester, and Julia sat across from Sam. A bottle of champagne appeared, and had probably been stashed somewhere in her mother’s vast refrigerator. Her mother was always prepared for a romantic celebration, Julia thought.

“Let’s start with a toast,” Lester said. “I wasn’t prepared with an engagement ring tonight. But this should make it official.” He smiled as he filled everyone’s glasses.

Julia covered hers with her hand. “No thanks, Lester. I don’t think I can handle it right now.”

She couldn’t handle it physically. Or emotionally. And didn’t want to be a hypocrite. The fainting spell had given her a perfect excuse to pass.

“I’ll say a few words.” Sam raised his glass, tilting it toward Lucy and Lester. “Though this announcement certainly comes as a surprise…and even a shock,” he added, glancing briefly at Julia, “I think you’re both old enough to know what’s in your minds. And your hearts. It’s a rare gift to find love. We need to cherish that gift. And run with it. Lucy, Dad, you’re both very lucky to have found each other, and I wish you every happiness.”

Julia was surprised. His toast was very touching, his words genuine and thoughtful. So, Sam Baxter was more than just a pretty face. She hadn’t meant to do it, but found herself lifting her water glass and joining in.

“Thank you, son. That was very nice. I knew when I found Lucy, my life was complete,” Lester said. “The only wish I have left now, is to see you with a true love of your own someday. Settled down. Giving me a few grandkids to spoil.”

“Oh, me, too!” Lucy chimed in, as if Lester had mentioned that grandchildren were on sale this week at Kmart.

Sam shook his head, a faint blush coloring his lean cheeks. Julia was glad that he was under the spotlight now and not herself. He did look totally adorable.

“Come on, Dad. This is your night. You know how I feel about that ‘settling down’ talk.”

Lester laughed. “I know you tried it once and it didn’t work out. That’s no reason not to try again. Look at me and Lucy.” He glanced at his bride-to-be. “We didn’t give up just ’cause we didn’t get it perfect the first time.”

Julia’s eyes widened. But she didn’t say anything. She wondered if Lester really knew how many false starts his fiancée had under her belt. More than the shuttle launch at NASA.

So Sam had a failed relationship in his past, too. Julia found that tidbit of information interesting. It was hard to imagine a man who looked like that running around unclaimed. But it seemed his father had hinted as much.

Sam didn’t reply. He took another sip of champagne. More like a gulp, Julia noticed.

“Pass the dishes, everyone,” Lucy instructed. “Here, Sam. You start with the roast. And there’s some gravy to your left. Lester…some string beans? I made them with the almonds, just the way you like.”

“Looks delicious, dear,” Lester said appreciatively. “Once we’re married I’m afraid I’ll gain fifty pounds.”

“We have to keep active. That’s the key. You can’t just retire and loaf around. Watching TV all day.”

“Not my plan at all. You know that,” Lester said between mouthfuls.

Julia took some food on her plate and began to eat. Veal roast with tasty herbed stuffing, roasted potatoes and string beans. She was hungry, more than she realized.

“What are your plans, Lester?” Julia asked, curious to know. “My mother mentioned you want to start a new business?”

Lester nodded and dabbed his mouth with a napkin. “I’m going to just follow my bliss. Your mother and I, once we’re married, are going to start a cheese-making business. Artisanal goat cheese. The secret recipe has been in my family for generations. I’m looking around for a good piece of property. Maybe you can help us out with that. I even have a pair of starter goats. Romeo and Juliet,” he added with a grin.

He sent a sugary glance Lucy’s way and they had soon joined hands on top of the table, gazing warmly into each other’s eyes.

Julia lifted her gaze to the ceiling as she struggled to take it all in. So that explained her mother’s new cheese dip recipe.

Was this a dream? Was it a joke?

Her mother, on a farm?

Making…goat cheese?

Julia sat back from her plate and took a deep breath, and then another. Her mother was hardly farm wife material. She didn’t even like to garden. She’d have to fit her farm chores in between trips to the nail salon and pocketbook parties. As far as Julia knew, they didn’t sell any outfits on QVC suitable for mucking out a barn.

Julia stared at Lester, wondering if he was kidding. But she could tell he was perfectly sincere.

“Well…these are big plans. You didn’t tell me any of this, Mom,” Julia said cautiously.

Lucy shrugged. “Lester’s very organized. He’s taken classes. And the recipe has been in his family for generations. There’s a big demand for goat cheese these days. It’s very gourmet.”

“Yes…you mentioned that.” Julia’s voice was flat.

“Restaurants use a ton of the stuff. I think he can do very well.”

Sam spoke up between bites. He met her gaze, his dark eyes issuing a faint challenge.

Julia countered with a withering look.

So, his true colors were finally showing. She could see where Mr. Handsome stood on this cheese question. Looked like three against one. She was alone in the battle to slow down this runaway train engagement and bring her mother to her senses about her fiancé’s goat farm scheme.

Did Lucy really believe she could spend her golden years surrounded by a herd of nasty, smelly, braying…goats? Julia knew Lucy wouldn’t last a week.

Obviously Lester had talked her into all of it. Her mother was so sweet and gullible. Especially when it came to men. A smooth-talking man who knew how to compliment her legs and her cooking could sell her the Brooklyn Bridge.

She’d bet anything the couple planned to finance the farm with Lucy’s savings. Lester’s contribution would the secret family recipe.

Lester might appear to be just an affable old guy. But there was more going on in the bald dome than first impressions let on.

Miss America indeed. More like Miss Cash Cow.

Hopefully, this whole thing hadn’t gone too far. It was hard to tell. All she knew was that Lester had a recipe and two goats.

Before she could ask any more questions, Sam changed the subject. “So, how did you two meet anyway? I don’t think I ever got the whole story.”

Lucy and Lester launched into a colorful narrative of their first meeting. Julia found her guess had been right. Lester did stay for lunch when he returned with the missing part for the garbage disposal. And Lucy had served stuffed tomato.

After some more family stories from her mother Julia had heard a million times before, dessert and coffee were finally served. Her mother brought in the towering chocolate cake, which was a big hit. Even Sam seemed impressed.

The look of sensual bliss on his face, eyes half-closed as he savored his first taste, gave Julia a fluttering feeling in the pit of her stomach. She quickly looked away, glad he hadn’t caught her staring.

She accepted a larger than usual slice and ate every crumb. The decadent treat lifted her mood a bit. But not nearly enough.

Julia listened and waited but couldn’t find an appropriate moment to ask more questions about the goat farm. She decided to corner her mother later, after father and son had left.

She had to find out how far things had gone.

And talk her mother out of it.

Saturday morning at 8:00 a.m., Julia marched down Main Street with two large coffees, a bran muffin for herself and a cranberry scone for Rachel. Rachel’s shop, Pretty Baby, was at the very end of the street from the bakery, but Julia’s long-legged stride reached her destination in no time.

The building had been in shambles when Rachel had bought it, but with Julia’s help, she’d gotten a good deal. She’d renovated and restored it to being a showplace. Fearful of being overlooked at the end of the shopping route, Rachel had had the building painted in a fanciful, eye-catching combination of colors, a real painted lady, with a huge colorful garden that filled the front yard in the spring and summer. The garden was filled with the last of winter’s snow now, a white backdrop for Rachel’s hand-painted sign that read Pretty Baby Children’s Boutique—Clothes, toys & furnishings. Made with a loving touch.

A small sign in the window said Sorry, Closed. But Julia knew the store was never closed to her. She didn’t even need to knock before Rachel ran to let her in, her long, brown, curly hair bouncing around her shoulders as she opened the door.

“Are you okay?” Rachel’s dark blue gaze took her in with a concerned look. “Your phone message sounded…”

“Insane? Stark-raving mad? Totally berserk?”

“How about all of the above. What’s going on?”

“Lester Baxter. That’s what’s going on.”

Rachel looked puzzled. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember you ever mentioning him. Was he an awful date or an awful client?”

“My mother’s new boyfriend. Her new fiancé, in fact. Lester proposed last night, in the kitchen, while they were supposed to be fetching the appetizers.”

“So, Lucy’s at it again.” She shook her head. “You were right. You said you had a funny feeling. What’s he like? Did you like him at least? Is he nice?”

Julia shrugged and sighed. “He’s nice enough, I suppose. Seems enchanted with Lucy. But they all do, at first. He seems to have patience, which is more than I can say for most.” She flipped the lid from her coffee, then looked up at her friend. “I thought he was so sincere at first. I was actually afraid about Lucy disappointing him. Now, I’m not sure. I’ve started to suspect his paunchy, puppy-dog devotion might be an act. Try to tell my mother that. She’ll never buy it.”

“Why should she? Why would the man pretend to be in love with her and propose?”

“Lucy is quite comfortable. I ought to know, I manage her finances. Goodness knows, if she had to handle them herself, she’d probably have to move in with me. And rent a warehouse to store the shoe and handbag collection.”

Rachel smiled. “She does like to shop.”

“Lester’s only known her a short time, but it’s easy to get Lucy to tell all.”

“So, he wants to marry her for her money? Is that what you think?”

“Lester’s postretirement dream is to buy a farm, where they will raise goats and make gourmet cheese. From a secret family recipe.”

Julia stared at Rachel over her coffee cup. “He and my mother have it all worked out. Except the part about wearing sling-back pumps in the manure pile.”

“Your mother goes along with this?”

Julia nodded. “Uh-huh. He must have hypnotized her or something. I tried to talk to her privately about it, after they had left, but she wouldn’t hear any objection. She’s buying it, whole hog. Or rather, whole goat, I guess you’d have to say.”

“Oh, dear…that is a nightmare. Poor Lucy. She’s really gone off the deep end this time.” Rachel paused and took a sip of her coffee. “How about Lester? Does he have any children?”

Julia wasn’t sure if she should mention Sam Baxter, even to her very best friend in the world. Of course, if she started, she’d have to tell her everything.

“Lester’s son, Sam, tagged along. He’s visiting from Boston.”

“Really? What’s he like?”

Julia took a breath. “Well, let’s see…. He’s tall. Great body. Dark hair, sort of thick with a slight wave. A great face with these huge brown eyes. Oh…and dimples,” she surmised in a flat objective tone. “Maybe the best-looking man I’ve been in room with?”

She swallowed a bit of bran muffin, but it stuck in her throat.

Rachel stared across at her, but Julia wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Sounds too good to be true. Is he straight?”

Julia sighed. “Seemed straight as an arrow to me. I mean, I can’t think of any other reason he’d be checking out my legs. And staring down my sweater when I fainted. You know, that wrap-sweater thing I bought last week when we were at the outlet mall?”

“Fainted? When did you faint?”

“I didn’t black out totally. The big announcement sent me into shock. I sort of crumpled up and fell out of my chair. Then Superman swooped over and caught me in midair. Right before I cracked my head on the coffee table.”

“Good reflexes.”

“Yes, I thought so.” Julia tried to make light of the episode.

“So, Lucy and Lester announced they were getting married. You fainted. Superman saved you from the coffee table…and then you heard about the goat farm?”

Julia tilted her head to one side. “That’s a pretty accurate summary. Then father and son left and I tried to talk some sense into her. What a waste of time that was.”

“Sounds like quite a dinner party.”

“It was. Very memorable.”

The two friends sat quietly. That was one of things Julia loved about Rachel’s company. They didn’t need to be chatting away incessantly every minute they were together.

“So, tell me more about this guy, Sam. Is he single?”

“He’s not married. But that doesn’t mean he’s not attached. Men like that aren’t running around loose. Believe me.”

“That’s what I thought about Jack when we first met,” Rachel reminded her. “But here we are.” She waved her left hand, showing off her wedding band.

Julia smiled at her. “You guys were meant to be. That’s different. Sam must have been married, because Lester mentioned trying again. And giving him some grandchildren.”

Rachel winced. “How embarrassing. How did he take it?”

Julia couldn’t help but recall the faint blush on Sam Baxter’s cheeks. “He just changed the subject.”

“So what does Sam think?”

“He seems to support the entire situation. The marriage and the goat farm. So it’s three against one. Tough odds for me. Especially since one of my main objections is that I suspect his father wants to marry Lucy just so she can buy him his farm.”

“I guess stressing that point would not be the best way to win Lester’s son over to your side,” Rachel agreed. “Does he know how many times your mother has been married?”

“I tried to tell him, but I’m not sure it registered.”

“Maybe if he knew more about Lucy, he’d be more wary of the situation. Concerned for his father.”

“I thought of that,” Julia said. She also thought how hard it would be to speak privately to him. Something about him seemed to totally unravel her.

“If he’s visiting town for a few days, why don’t you try to talk to him about it? Without Lester and Lucy around, of course. Maybe he’d flip to your side.”

“I don’t know. I might end up insulting him, being suspicious of his father’s motives. Then they’d get married anyway and he’ll always hate me.”

“Well…that’s one scenario,” Rachel said, nearly laughing. “Does this guy make you nervous or something?”

Julia wasn’t sure if it was nervous. Or something. Or all of the above.

“There’s just something about him, Rachel. I don’t know what it is. He’s actually sort of quiet. Doesn’t say too much. Laid back, watching everything…”

“Like legs crossing and sweaters slipping open?”

She knew Rachel was just teasing her and made a face. “You know what I mean. It’s not anything he does in particular. But last night, I just couldn’t think straight around him. Which of course, made everything worse. I’m still upset by all this crazy news. I’m not sure if I’m ready to deal with him yet.”

“I’m not sure if I ever heard you say that about a guy, Julia.”

Julia didn’t answer. She was usually ready to take on anyone. But Sam Baxter wasn’t just any guy.

“It’s not just his looks,” she said finally.

Okay, so he looked like a model in an ad for sexy jeans. Or shaving cream. Or maybe just plain old male virility, since that’s what they were all really trying to sell anyway. All rugged angles and lean muscles and thick, shiny hair. That was part of it, for sure. But there was something more. Not so easy to put her finger on. And dismiss.

“There’s something about him,” she said with a shrug. “I’m not sure.”

Some indefinable vibration she felt every time he so much as looked her way that got her rattled to the core. He didn’t need to say a word.

Rachel stepped over to a display table nearby and started folding a pile of baby sweaters.

“Let’s see,” she said with mock seriousness. “Is it that thing they call…sexual chemistry? Could you, Julia Martinelli, battle-weary veteran of the dating wars, possibly be totally attracted to someone?”

Julia crumpled up the muffin wrapper, leaving half her daily requirement of fiber untouched.

“Of course he’s attractive. I never said he wasn’t. He’s just…not my type.”

Rachel put down the sweater she was holding. “Explanation, please? From the way you described him, if I wasn’t already married I’d ask for his number.”

Julia shrugged. “Well, for one thing, he’s a chef. They’re all drama queens. Believe me. Emotional, high-maintenance types. I need someone more…low-key. Like me. And he obviously has no common sense if he approves of his father marrying a woman he hardly knows. I need to be with someone who’s more logical about things, like me.” She shrugged. “Besides, this whole engagement situation between Lester and my mother makes Lester’s son totally off-limits. I mean, it’s too complicated. It would feel very awkward.”

“I suppose,” Rachel agreed reluctantly. “Awful timing if you ask me. It’s just that I haven’t seen you light up this way just talking about a new guy in ages. Too bad.”

Julia didn’t reply. Was she really “lighting up”? Gosh, that was embarrassing. Even if it was only Rachel.

She didn’t feel missing out on her chance to date Sam Baxter was any great loss. She’d meant it when she’d told Rachel he wasn’t her type. Oh, she could see them getting involved all right. There was definitely chemistry and she had a feeling, they’d get very involved very quickly.

But it wouldn’t last. How could it? They were definitely too different. She was businesslike and reserved. He was creative and emotional. He lived in Boston and she was up here. The distance alone was a big obstacle in and of itself. Even if she was interested.

Which she was not.

Yes, it was tempting.

But she couldn’t afford to waste any more time on romances that were exciting for a few weeks, but wouldn’t lead anywhere. At this stage of the game, she didn’t have time to waste. Her ovaries were on a tight schedule.

She stepped over to the clothing table and picked up a knitted cap with soft little white ears on top. She loved coming into this store—and hated it sometimes, too.

The clothes were so sweet and dear, she could almost cry, picturing a chubby-cheeked little baby in the cap, for instance. Tying the strings under its little chin, not too tight, and not too loose. A baby that would be her own.

But didn’t yet exist.

Would he or she ever exist?

She felt Rachel touch her arm lightly and she put the hat down.

“Julia, I feel for you. You’re in a tough spot. I know your mother. She’s lovable and dear. But difficult sometimes, too. I understand how you feel responsible for her.” Rachel paused. “But…she might need to do as she wants and make her own mistakes, you know?”

Julia felt as if they were talking about a teenage daughter instead of her mother. But she could see Rachel’s point.

“Yes, I know. But it’s hard to watch her keep making the same mistakes over and over again. I mean…one description of insanity is repeating the same action and expecting a different result. You know, like banging your head against a wall?”

Rachel’s expression was thoughtful. “Well, I guess you could say that’s the same description of trying to find someone to love. Sometimes it does feel like you’re banging your head against a wall. At least, that’s the way I remember it.”

Julia didn’t know what to say. There was no way to argue with the dyed-in-the-wool romantic. Backed in a corner, they always answered on totally unrealistic terms. Julia didn’t think like that.

“I’m sorry, Jules,” Rachel added. “Like I said before, I know you’re in a tough spot. And I’m definitely on your side. So it’s two against three, okay?”

Julia nodded and smiled. “Thanks. I know.”

Julia heard a sharp knock. They looked up to see two women peering through the window. Julia glanced at her watch. “Nine on the dot. They’re clamoring to get in here and buy stuff. I wouldn’t keep them waiting.”

“Don’t worry. I didn’t plan to.”

Rachel trotted over to the door and pulled it open, wearing a welcoming smile. “Good morning, ladies. I’ll be right with you.”

Julia had followed her. “I’d better get to work myself. Thanks for letting me vent.”

“Don’t be silly, what are friends for?” Rachel leaned over and gave her a hug. “Call me later if there are any new developments.”

“Fasten your seat belt,” she added. “It’s going to be a bumpy ride.”

Rachel’s answering smile made Julia smile, too, though inside she felt her prediction was bound to come true. It was no laughing matter, these hasty marriage plans and the goat farm idea, to boot.

But if she didn’t try to laugh at it, at least a little, Julia was afraid she might cry.

Julia marched down Main Street toward her office. Had the entire world gone off the deep end, believing anything was fine and dandy as long as two people claimed to be in love?

It almost made a person feel nostalgic for a bygone day, when marriage was a much more formal arrangement. Like a business negotiation. Between the parents, primarily. A bride and groom sometimes didn’t meet until the wedding day and notions like romance and love didn’t figure in at all.

At least back then, if a man was marrying a woman for her fortune—or vice versa—people were honest about it.

Thinking of the days of arranged matches reminded Julia that she’d forgotten to pick up Rachel’s copy of Pride and Prejudice, which they were reading for their book group this month. She had no plans for tonight and was looking forward to a relaxing evening by the fire, reading a cleverly written classic. She’d have to call Rachel and figure out how to pick it up. She didn’t have many days left to finish it.

Julia found herself passing the Blue Lake General Store. She needed another cup of coffee before she started work. And even something else to eat. Her daily bran muffin just hadn’t done it for her. She craved something sweet and buttery and loaded with fat grams and carbs. The bad kind.

This was a state of emergency. She was allowed to fall off the fiber wagon once in a while.

Ella Krueger stood behind the counter and greeted her with a wide smile. The coffee line was usually long at this time in the morning on a weekday, but there were only a few people—workmen mostly on their way out to a building or painting job—waiting for breakfast sandwiches, which Ella’s husband was cooking up on a grill.

“Coffee, Julia?”

“Yes, please. Large black.”

“Anything else today, hon?”

Julia tried to resist the tempting offerings in the breakfast pastry case.

Then she saw it. Crumb cake. Ella’s own, homemade and fresh from the oven. “I guess I’ll have a piece of crumb cake. Not too big though,” she added quickly.

Ella laughed. “We only give out big pieces here. Did you know my crumb cake is a prize winner at the county fair? See, it’s hanging up there,” she said, pointing to a plaque. “Best crumbs, five years running. Most people can’t get them that big. They fall apart. Mine stay big. And they stay on the cake. It’s a secret recipe.”

Julia wasn’t surprised. There seemed to be a lot of secret recipes in this town.

Ella rang up the sale and Julia handed over some money.

“Well, I won’t try to guess. But it is delicious.”

“What’s delicious?”

Julia turned her head slightly. Sam Baxter was standing close by. She wondered how long he’d been there, watching her. Rude of him not to make himself known and just stand there…spying. She did feel caught in the act, the damning evidence in her hand.

“The crumb cake. It’s very good. Ella makes it herself.”

“Prize-winning crumbs?” he asked.

He was a gourmet chef, Julia realized. He probably thought Ella’s pride was cute but misplaced. Julia felt annoyed at him on Ella’s behalf. But she knew that wasn’t entirely it.

“How long have you been standing there?”

“Not too long.” The corner of his mouth twitched and he nearly smiled. “I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to sneak up on you. I just came out for a walk and wanted some coffee.”

“She makes good coffee, too. Enjoy.”

Julia cast him her best real-estate-lady smile and nodded, then tucked the newspaper under her arm and turned to go.

He watched her for a moment, then quickly tried to catch up. She was just about out the door when he finally did.

“I’m glad I ran in to you…I thought we should talk, if you have a minute.”

He stood very close, staring down at her, his hands dug into the pockets of his leather jacket. The wind lifted a few strands of his dark hair and blew it across his eyes. She had the wild temptation to reach up and push it back for him.

“Sorry…I’ve got to get over to my office and open up. Saturday is very busy.”

Which was partly true. But since it was the doldrums of the winter, there wasn’t much going on and several employees had keys.

Julia picked up her pace, hoping to lose him. Most men, even tall ones, had trouble keeping up when she did her speed walk.

He didn’t seem to notice and kept up easily. It appeared to be his preferred pace.

He wore the same leather jacket he’d worn last night, she noticed, with jeans. A gray sweater showed underneath and a brown wool scarf was slung around his neck.

Julia had hoped her reaction to his looks had been a fluke. But all in all, he looked just as sexy and appealing as he had last night. Maybe even better, if possible.

Finally, they reached the realty office. Julia felt a bit winded and felt a slight sheen of sweat on her forehead, but tried not to show it.

He stared up at the sign painted on the storefront window. “Home Sweet Home Realty. Cute.” He smiled at her. But she didn’t smile back. “I didn’t take you for the type to go for cute.”

“It’s memorable and sets a comfortable tone.” Julia sometimes thought the name of her business was too cute. But she didn’t need him pointing that out to her.

She approached the door, key ring in hand. But her assistant, Marion McKenzie, had already arrived and opened up, making her feel a bit foolish for acting so urgent.

“Looks like someone beat you to it. Too bad, you were really moving. Were you on the track team in college?” Sam sounded mildly amused.

“Tennis,” she said shortly. “I have a wicked serve.”

“I wouldn’t doubt it.”

She dumped the keys back in her purse. She glanced up at him, prepared to make another excuse about getting to work. But her curiosity got the better of her.

“So, you want to talk about our parents. Have you changed your opinion about their engagement? You seemed pretty supportive last night.”

“And you’re definitely not. At least that’s what your mother says. She called Lester this morning at the crack of dawn.” He made a face. “She says you’re very upset and demanded that she call it off.”

Julia felt awkward hearing her words tossed back at her. Especially by him. He made her sound like some sort of shrew.

“I am upset. But I never demanded anything. I know my mother. She’s like…like a cat. You just don’t get very far delivering ultimatums. I never said call it off. I did say slow it down.”

“So you do have reservations,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “Some strong reservations.”

“Of course I do. For one thing, they hardly know each other. And this goat farm idea…it’s totally absurd. My mother wouldn’t last one week on a farm that grows costume jewelry, no less one filled with animals. To think for one minute that she could…that just goes to show how little your father really knows her.”

His eyes narrowed. She hadn’t meant to sound so harsh, but somehow she couldn’t control it. Somebody had to face facts around here. It seemed as if she was the only one who would.

“I don’t know your mother. I do know my father. He’s a good man. Solid. Dependable. If he says he’s going to do a thing, he’ll do it. He’s talked about this venture for years. He’s taken classes. He’s done research. He’s visited farms just like it. It’s not just some pie-in-the-sky fantasy.”

“All right. I’ll buy all that. But tell me this. If he’s been dreaming about this cheese business for so long, why hasn’t he gone ahead and started it? Is it because he never had the capital?” she said quickly, before he could speak. “Of course, if he marries my mother, that sticky little problem is solved, isn’t it?”

As soon as she’d said the words aloud, Julia immediately regretted her frankness. Sam’s face got pale as paper, then colored red. His dark eyes flashed, and he seemed to be closer, looming over her. She tried to look away but couldn’t.

They stood staring at each other in a silent stalemate for a second and she realized that if he’d been an unleashed dog, she would have run for cover.

“How dare you. My father is an honest, honorable guy. He doesn’t need to marry your mother for money. In fact, she seems a bit high-maintenance to me. I think he’s going to have his hands full. But he says he’s in love. I’m not debating him about it.”

Now he was taking shots at her mother. She could have predicted that. She wasn’t going to be intimidated by him. She wasn’t going to back down. She suddenly wished she had on higher heels so she could stare him right in the eye.

“He has the funds to start the business on his own?” Julia persisted. “Is that what you’re saying? Why hasn’t he done it yet then? Why hasn’t he…followed his bliss? Why did he need to wait for my mother to arrive on the scene?”

He didn’t answer right away. Either she’d made him even madder or she’d backed him into a corner. Or both.

“He’s been waiting to retire,” he said finally. “That’s one reason. And you’re right. He doesn’t have all the funds in hand. But he’d be able to borrow it. That wouldn’t be a problem. People get loans to start up businesses all the time. I thought you were a big hotshot real-estate broker. You should know that.”

Julia tried not to smirk but it was hard. She knew all about financing and loan qualifications. Loan officers were not scrambling to get their hands on retirees with no income and little assets who were starting up farms.

Maybe at Bank of Dumbbell Lenders. But not at most banks.

She decided not to infuriate him any further with this point. What was the sense? This conversation had gone far enough. She crossed her arms over her chest and took a breath.

“Are we finished? I need to get to work. I can see we disagree on this matter and are not about to find any common ground very soon. If ever.”

She could tell from his expression he didn’t like being brushed off. She guessed it probably didn’t happen very often.

“I can see that you’re a very rigid, uptight and close-minded woman. The packaging is definitely…misleading. I’ll grant you that.”

Julia drew in a sharp breath. Rigid and close minded? Is that what he thought of her? Just because she dared to call it for what it was? He had some nerve.

“Fine. That’s just fine,” she snapped back angrily. “I can see that you’re as illogical, impractical and naive as…as…my mother. And that’s saying something!”

His mouth opened, then closed again. He’d probably been about to carry the argument further, then thought better of it.

“At least I know where you stand.”

“Same here,” she responded. “See you around.”

She pushed open the door to her office and stepped inside, not daring to look back. She felt shaken and tired from the confrontation. Luckily, none of the sales staff had arrived yet. She walked down the aisle between the row of desks that filled the main room.

Marion sat at the back, near the door to Julia’s office. She looked up from her computer and smiled. “Morning, Julia. Who was that guy you were chatting up? New client?”

“He’s just…some guy. He’s just…an idiot. That’s who he is.”

She knew Marion wouldn’t understand but it felt good just to vent.

Marion gave her a look, then turned back to her computer screen. “Um…okay then. You had some messages.”

Marion handed her a wad of pink messages slips. Julia took them without thinking.

“Thanks,” she said quietly. She unlocked the door to her office, then suddenly noticed the bag of crumb cake in her hand.

She’d totally lost her appetite. Her stomach was churning in a ball of knots.

“Marion…would you like some crumb cake? Ella Krueger’s. The prize-winning crumbs.”

Marion looked cheered by the offer. “Gee…thanks. I would. I didn’t get breakfast yet.”

“Here you go. Enjoy.” Julia handed it down. “And thanks for coming so early and opening up.”

Marion looked surprised. “Oh, sure. No problem.”

Julia nodded and smiled. She paused at the half-open door.

“Marion, you’ve known me a long time now. Would you say that I’m…uptight…or small minded?”

Marion considered the question a moment. Longer than Julia thought necessary. Finally she shook her head.

“Uh, no. I don’t think so. Not really.”

Not really? Wasn’t that like saying “almost”?

Julia sighed. She had to take what she could get.

“How about rigid? Do you think I’m rigid?”

Marion stared at her. “Well, you’re a very good businesswoman, Julia. You’re very assertive and tough. You really stick to your guns.” She smiled, looking puzzled by the question. “I don’t know if I’d call that rigid. To me it’s more like persistent.”

Assertive. Tough. Persistent.

Weren’t those terms all just nice ways of saying rigid? Julia decided to check the thesaurus.

“Well…thanks. Enjoy the crumb cake.”

Julia turned, stalked into her office and closed the door. She should have quit while she was ahead.

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