Line of Fire. Julie Leto

      “You mean you aren’t planning to date?”

      “Ever?”

      She lifted one shoulder. “At least not for a while.”

      “How long’s a while?”

      Meredith hadn’t planned to get into this tonight, but now that the issue had been raised, she felt she should address it. “Well, not until I’m settled,” she said, her smile genuine, her voice warm and sincere and just soft enough to be soothing. “To tell you the truth, I’ve promised myself one year free of making any sudden moves or rash decisions.”

      She found herself staring into a pair of moss-green eyes shaded by a brown Stetson. Sky’s gaze was so direct and unsettling the pit of her stomach took a nosedive toward her toes.

      Clearing her throat, she said, “I plan to make my home here, and I don’t want to have any regrets.” That said, she forced herself to look at the other people in the room. It seemed she’d scored some brownie points with the Ladies Aid Society, but not with the local men. Since the success of her business depended upon being liked, she hurried to say, “In the meantime, you’re all welcome to stop by the store, to browse, and talk. I give great advice about patterns and color schemes and painting techniques, and my interior design rates are extremely affordable.”

      With a smile, she bid everyone goodbye. Keeping her eyes straight ahead, she strode to the back of the room through a crescendo of “aw shucks” and “rats” and “just our luck.”

      She glanced over her shoulder just before closing the door behind her. She could hear Luke Carson banging his gavel on the podium, but her gaze never made it that far. A lot of the men had crammed their hats back on their heads. She found herself staring into the eyes of the man who’d never taken his off. Her nerves fluttered. Lucky for her, the door closed before she got thoroughly lost in the depths of green eyes that were hooded by thoughts she couldn’t begin to decipher.

      “Somethin’ wrong with that beer, sugar?”

      Sky eyed his untouched bottle of beer, shaking his head at DoraLee Brown. “Just not thirsty, I guess.”

      Moseying on over to the Crazy Horse along with several of the other men had seemed like a good idea when the town meeting had adjourned an hour ago. Sky usually enjoyed talking and laughing and playing a game or two of cards. He’d told a joke he’d tried out on the hired hands at the Lone M that very afternoon. They’d laughed their heads off. Of course they had. It had the best dang punch line he’d heard in years. The Crazy Horse crowd had listened. And nothing. Nobody so much as cracked a grin. The only thing any of them seemed interested in doing tonight was talking about Meredith Warner.

      “She wants to sell us paint and sofas and lamp shades,” Neil Anderson said.

      “Worse, she doesn’t want to date anybody for a whole year,” his brother, Norbert added.

      “Why move to a town that advertised for women if you don’t want to get to know the men?” Ben Jacobs asked, rubbing the spot where Mertyl had clipped him with two surprisingly strong arthritic fingers.

      “To start a business, I guess,” one of the other boys answered.

      Sky pushed his beer a little farther away. He might as well leave.

      “Who in Sam Hill would want to open a business here?”

      Sky didn’t quite make it to his feet. Droll or not, Norbert had a point. Why had Meredith decided to open her store here?

      “Jasper Gulch ain’t exactly a bustling metropolis.”

      That was true. Why open a store here and not in some other small, but not-quite-so-dead town? Jasper Gulch suited Sky perfectly. But he wasn’t trying to open a business.

      Somebody dropped some quarters into the jukebox. Seconds later, a tune was being belt out about short skirts and men’s shirts. Sky’s mind wandered. As far as he was concerned, there was nothing sexier in the world than a woman wearing a man’s shirt and nothing else. He’d seen Meredith that way once. She hadn’t worn his shirt for long, because he hadn’t been able to keep his hands off her. She’d reciprocated, touch for touch, coming to him so willingly, so womanly, so wantonly, he couldn’t seem to forget it.

      Something bothered the back of his mind. He was pretty sure he’d hurt her when it was all over, but he was nothing if not honest. So he’d told her the truth, and the truth was, he wasn’t a forever kind of man. He’d been very clear about that. And yet she was back. Why? Sure, she wanted to be close to her niece and nephew. But she could have opened a business in Pierre, and commuted to work. Why was she really here?

      He thought about the way her eyes had rested on him during that meeting. Twice. Both times she’d looked away before he’d figured out what it had meant. She hadn’t looked at anybody else that way. He knew, because he hadn’t taken his eyes off her.

      Whoa.

      What if she’d read more into those few hours they’d spent together than had actually been there? She was a woman, after all, and women tended to romanticize everything. What if she’d moved here because she’d convinced herself that passion was love, no matter what he’d said? What if she was saving her wiles to use on him? What if…

      Sky dropped a few bills on the bar and rose blithely to his feet. He’d reached his truck when he noticed the lights on in the store across the street. Looking both ways, he strode on over, one last question, the most important question of all, running through his mind: What if he paid her a little visit and found out?

      Pounding.

      Meredith’s eyelashes flickered, her eyes moving back and forth beneath her closed lids. The sound came again, a distant pounding, like a fist on wood. She must have been dreaming. Yes, that was it. She was dreaming, floating in a weightless, beautiful place filled with rainbows and the purl of wind chimes and a breeze more gentle and soft on her face than anything she’d ever felt. There were no doors in this place, so the pounding must have been coming from outside her dream.

      Glass rattled. Meredith jerked in her sleep. She groaned softly and whispered, “So tired.”

      The rainbows dimmed slightly, but the wind chimes purled on and on. She floated close enough to the surface of her dream to realize that the other, disruptive sound had gone away. She sighed, snuggling deeper into the sofa cushions.

      And then, suddenly, her eyes popped open. It took several blinks to bring the store into focus. She sat up groggily. She’d been unloading merchandise from boxes when exhaustion had overtaken her. She remembered leaning her head against the back of the sofa and closing her eyes for a moment. She glanced at her watch. Mercy, that had been an hour ago. She’d been sleeping so deeply she’d been dreaming.

      Something must have awakened her.

      She took a few steps toward the front of the store, peering at the door and then out the window. Other than a handful of trucks parked in front of the Crazy Horse Saloon across the street, all was quiet out on Main Street. Hugging her arms close to her body, she turned in a half-circle, thinking that she might as well call it a night and go upstairs to her apartment. She switched off one lamp. Picking up the cordless phone she’d left on a low table, she headed for the first open window.

      A sound at the back of the store stopped her in her tracks.

      At first she thought it might have been the mother cat, scratching at the door to go out. She glanced at the old drawer Logan had padded for the stray and her seven kittens. The babies were sleeping; the mother stood, back arched, poised for action, as if something had awakened her, too.

      The doorknob rattled. Somebody was trying to get in.

      The blood drained out of Meredith’s face, down her neck, seeming to pool in the pit of her stomach. Pressing her lips shut so no sound would escape, she forced herself to settle down. She’d been robbed when she’d first moved to Minneapolis. The thief had gotten everything, leaving her penniless, destitute. She was almost thirty now. She