Four-Karat Fiancee. Sharon Swan

sure enough, that’s where he found her, seated on one of a pair of burgundy leather love seats. Today she wore another of her tailored blouses with pleated wool trousers and was gazing down at something she held in one hand. As far as he could make out, it was a small photograph.

      “Good morning,” he said as he came to a halt inches from a low, bowlegged mahogany table covered with a lacey white cloth. It wasn’t yet loaded with the homemade pastries Gwen Tanner would probably be delivering soon. Gwen was another Big Draw lottery winner and no longer needed to sell her baked goods to supplement the income coming in from her boarding house, but he’d heard that she continued to supply the bookstore, anyway.

      Certainly Amanda Bradley looked as though she could use something to tempt her appetite and maybe perk her up a bit. No, a lot, Dev amended on closer inspection. For the second time in less than a week, she seemed to bear little resemblance to the stubborn female who’d regularly raked him over the coals.

      “Good morning,” she replied, finally returning his greeting as she glanced up at him. She set the snapshot she’d been holding down on the table.

      Dev got a better gander at it as he eased himself into one of the twin burgundy chairs that matched the love seats. Four curly-haired, towheaded kids grinned at the camera in a scene that featured a small Christmas tree in the background along with a few presents that looked freshly unwrapped. Apparently the kids hadn’t gotten a lot from Santa on that particular Christmas morning, but they looked happy enough with what they had. One thing for sure, their expressions were a lot more enthusiastic than Amanda’s.

      “Things didn’t go well in Pine Run,” he said, deciding to cut to the chase as he stacked an ankle on a denim-clad knee and reached up to thumb back his Stetson.

      “No.” She let out a thin sigh. “I tried everything I could think of to make them see the advantages of placing the children with me, but…”

      “But they didn’t go for it,” he finished when her voice drifted off.

      “And I don’t for the life of me know what I could have done differently.” All at once she raised a small fist and slapped it down on a plump cushion, displaying a hint of the temper he was more familiar with. “Oh, they were impressed that I owned a home, free and clear. They also appreciated the fact that I had a buyer not only ready but eager to purchase another piece of property, which would increase my immediate income.” The last came out with a wry twist of her lips and a meaningful look aimed his way. “But in the end they felt my sisters and brothers needed, and I quote, ‘a more stable environment than a single caretaker could provide.”’

      “That’s a tough one,” he said, keeping his voice low.

      “And then—” She leaned her head against the back of the love seat and studied the high ceiling. “And then they went on to say that the children would be placed into permanent foster care. All except the youngest, they told me oh-so-reasonably. Betsy’s only eighteen months old, so she would mostly likely be put up for adoption.”

      “Jeez,” Dev muttered under his breath, watching as Amanda let out another, almost soundless, sigh.

      “I can’t believe they’ll be separated.” How she felt on that score was as plain as the grim bleakness in her tone. “I’d give anything—do anything—to be able to change what’s about to happen to them.”

      But what the hell more could she give? Dev asked himself, his own temper flaring at what seemed liked the injustice of it all. What did a bunch of bureaucrats expect her to do? As far as they were apparently concerned, a “single caretaker”—even one who owned a home and had a golden opportunity to add to her bank account—just didn’t fill the bill, and that was it.

      So, being undeniably single, what was Amanda Bradley supposed to do? It was a devil of a problem, all right. And even with his money, he couldn’t help her solve it.

      That’s not quite true, Devlin, something inside him said. There’s one thing you could do, but it would have to go a long way beyond getting out your checkbook.

      Jolted by that thought, he made a stab at ignoring the voice rumbling in the back of his mind, only to find that he couldn’t block it out. Not any more than he could stop his gaze from again being drawn to the happy faces of four grinning kids—kids who just might be looking a long way from cheerful at the moment. He knew he’d have been a lot more successful in resisting the sight of those rosy-cheeked faces in his younger, wilder days. Back then, he’d had little trouble avoiding anything that didn’t involve his own immediate health and welfare.

      But you changed when you decided to show Jester’s residents a thing or two by becoming a person they could respect, the niggling voice contended.

      Dev drew in a long breath, admitting the truth of that. Even though he’d never had any desire to get tied up in town politics, these days he was by and large an upstanding citizen. But that didn’t mean the slate was wiped clean. Maybe he still had some private dues to pay for all the years when he mostly hadn’t given a damn about anyone except himself.

      The man he’d once been would have scoffed at that notion. The man he’d become flat-out couldn’t.

      Trouble was, Dev thought as he slowly lifted his gaze, the woman seated across from him might not hesitate to scoff. “In fact, she just might think I’m crazy if I even mention what I’m considering,” he muttered under his breath.

      But the idea had taken hold, he couldn’t deny. Somehow, now that he’d latched on to it, it seemed pretty much the only thing to do. Which didn’t mean that he’d have a lot of choice except to let the whole business go if she did tell him he was crazy.

      He just hoped to hell she didn’t laugh at him, because if she did, he was sure to start growling at her again and the truce they’d somehow managed to maintain for weeks would be history.

      “It seems to me there might be a way to persuade the authorities to change their mind,” he said, picking his words carefully.

      In response, Amanda continued to stare up at the ceiling. “I’ve been racking my brain ever since I left Family Services trying to come up with something. To me, it appears pretty hopeless, but if you’ve got a suggestion, I’m willing to hear it.”

      He ran his tongue around his teeth, then just plunged in. “You could get married.”

      That got her attention in a hurry. She abandoned the ceiling to stare at him. “I know we haven’t exactly been friendly since I came back to Jester and opened up my store, but most people here could probably pass along the news that I haven’t even been dating anyone lately. Believe me, there’s no husband on the horizon.”

      “That could change,” he told her.

      “Not anytime soon,” she countered.

      “It could…if you married me.”