Sergeant Darling. Bonnie Gardner

Patsy Pritchard told her aunt emphatically as she watched Myrtle primp for the Women’s Auxiliary Bachelor Auction and Dinner.

      Patsy knew exactly what her Aunt Myrtle was up to, and she wasn’t about to encourage her in any way. “If, or when, I decide to start dating again, I’ll do it on my own terms, not because I had to buy someone to take me out.”

      “But, Patricia, it’s been years since your husband died. A beautiful young woman like you shouldn’t be sitting at home alone at night with her cats. You need to be out having fun, seeing people.”

      Not that again, Patsy protested to herself. Why couldn’t Aunt Myrtle understand that she was perfectly happy with the way things were? “I am not a hermit. I see plenty of people every day.” She paused, then went on when it looked as if Aunt Myrtle was going to object. “And I know perfectly well that when you say people, you mean men. I have a job where I see men daily. If I wanted to go out, I would not have any problems getting a date,” she said archly.

      Not that she wanted any. Now that men had pretty much given up asking, she was perfectly happy with the status quo. Most of the time.

      She’d had a man. She’d had a husband and a family. She wasn’t ready to replace them. She and Ace had been head over heels in love, and it had been too hard to lose him. She’d become a widow at twenty-one when Ace and the kids had been killed in a traffic accident. It had been a blow she’d very nearly not gotten over. “Besides, they’re your cats. I have a dog.”

      Myrtle positioned her red pillbox hat over her gray-and-white streaked Gibson-girl upswept bun and secured it with a hat pin. Setting the scarlet-colored ostrich plume at a jaunty angle, she glanced in the oval mirror above the table by the front door and fussed with the ruffle of her purple silk blouse. She pinched her cheeks and smacked her lips to spread her fire engine red lipstick. “I’m ready.” She turned to Patsy and posed. “Are you sure you won’t change your mind?”

      “Not a chance. You give that other ticket to someone else.”

      “DAMN, I FEEL LIKE a gorilla in this monkey suit,” Ray grumbled as he and Danny made last-minute adjustments to their formal “dress-mess” uniforms backstage before the auction. Thank goodness they’d been permitted to wear those rather than the tuxedos he’d heard some of the other bachelors were wearing. At least, he and Danny wouldn’t look like penguins.

      While Ray viewed the event as nothing short of torture, Murph actually seemed to be looking forward to it. Of course, Danny’s prowess with women was legendary, and he’d even lived with a woman for a while. Ray hadn’t had any such experience to fall back on. As far as he was concerned, this was worse than any military inspection he’d ever endured.

      He stuck a finger under the collar of his uniform and tried to loosen it. He had opted for the clip-on version of the regulation black bow tie, but his shirt collar was still tight against his Adam’s apple.

      “Stop fidgeting,” Mrs. Harbeson said, appearing suddenly, and Ray snapped to attention. “You look very handsome, Radar. I am so glad you wore your good glasses.”

      “I only wear the B.C. glasses on duty,” he said.

      Mrs. Harbeson smiled. “I’m happy to hear that. Now relax. Have a good time. I expect you to bring the Auxiliary a good price.”

      “I’ll do the best I can, Mrs. H.” Ray had finally relaxed enough to begin calling Mrs. Harbeson that, which she seemed to prefer to ma’am.

      She turned to Danny. “You look handsome as ever tonight, Danny. Will you try to get Radar to loosen up for me, though?”

      Danny grinned. “Doing my best, Marianne. But you have to know that I’m going to bring in the most money. Can’t let Ray Darling outdo the Irish Don Juan.”

      Someone called to Mrs. Harbeson. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she said. Chuckling to herself, she hurried away to see what the other woman wanted.

      “What say, Radar? You think you’ll do better than me in this auction?”

      “Don’t know, but are you interested in making a friendly little bet?” One that Ray was certain to lose. Murph was known for his way with women.

      “You got it in one, my man,” Danny said, his green Irish eyes smiling. “Loser has to spring for a case for the team.”

      “You’re on. Just bear in mind that I get to pick the brew if I win.” Ray grinned. “And I go for the imported stuff.”

      “Yeah, right,” Danny snorted. “You win this thing, and I’ll eat my little black book.”

      Ray grinned. Now, that would be worth seeing, but the chances of it happening were pretty slim, as far as Radar was concerned. He’d just be happy to get this dog-and-pony show behind him.

      The lady from the local television station who’d been invited to emcee took her place at the podium to the side of the stage. Someone in the wings called for everyone to be quiet and then she directed the bachelors to the waiting area in the wings.

      They’d barely found their places when the emcee announced the first bachelor. Ray breathed a sigh of relief that it wasn’t he. Then he settled back to see how the other guys handled the job. He knew everything there was about infiltrating an enemy camp or setting up field communications under fire, but here he was completely out of his element.

      Time dragged on. Danny went for $450, one of the higher totals, and Ray didn’t hold out much hope that he’d best his buddy. Meanwhile, the suspense was killing him. He was going to be the last guy to be called out on stage!

      At last he was introduced by the emcee. “And now, saving one of the best for last, give me a round of applause for Staff Sergeant Ray Darling!”

      He didn’t know what was worse: having to participate in this circus act, or having to go out on a date with a perfect stranger.

      He was firmly convinced that any woman who had to resort to buying a date was probably a long way from being anyone he wanted to go out with…

      IMPATIENTLY PRESSING on the doorbell, Patsy Pritchard stood outside her aunt’s house waiting for her to answer the door. It was so like Aunt Myrtle to summon her over on a wild-goose chase when Patsy had plans for the evening. She wondered what it was this time.

      She focused herself to remember that Myrtle was her only living relative, and without her aunt, she would be all alone in the world. She jabbed at the doorbell again and knocked loudly on the door for good measure. Was Aunt Myrt starting to lose her hearing?

      “I’m sorry, Patsy dear,” Myrtle said, her voice breathy and flustered as she opened the door. She was wearing a silly, ruffled blouse with a collar that reminded Patsy of something in a portrait of Queen Elizabeth I, but otherwise her aunt seemed to be dressed to the nines.

      “Did you say we were going out?” Patsy asked, glancing down at her khaki slacks and powder blue sweater set. It was fine for a movie at home, but not for the likes of the places that Aunt Myrtle usually preferred. “Was I supposed to dress up?”

      “You look lovely, dear,” Aunt Myrtle said, hooking a large crocheted handbag over her arm. “Yes, we’re going out to dinner at the Blue Heron.”

      “But that place must be thirty-five miles from here!” Patsy said with alarm. She had planned a private popcorn party and B-movie marathon at her apartment tonight. It hadn’t been easy to find those old Ed Wood movies, and she had been looking forward to them.

      “Pish,” Aunt Myrtle said as she closed the door firmly behind her. “Those old movies aren’t going anywhere.” Had the woman read her mind?

      “I didn’t say anything about movies,” Patsy protested as Aunt Myrtle steered her toward her behemoth of a car. “Why can’t we go someplace in town?”

      “Because we’re meeting a nice, young man at the Blue Heron,” Aunt Myrtle said, as she opened the driver’s door of her ancient Cadillac. “And you’re always staying