Family Ties. Bonnie K. Winn

oddly intimate.

      “So, what do you think of Rosewood?” she asked, trying to chase away her nerves.

      He shrugged as he handed her the directions Linda had given him. “Haven’t seen much of it yet.”

      “There’s a lot of history here, but not anything too high-tech.”

      “You have electricity and phone lines?”

      She blinked. “Of course.” Then she realized he was teasing. “Except on candle day, of course.”

      He took his attention from the road. “Candle day?”

      She met his gaze. “Keeps us from becoming too dependent on technology.”

      He lifted his brows in acknowledgment. “Guess you hope it doesn’t fall on stormy days, then.”

      She pursed her lips. “So the wind doesn’t blow out our candles?”

      “Right.”

      The teasing exchange allowed her to relax a fraction. “It’s really a good place to raise children. People watch out for each other, the schools are filled with teachers who care. And our church pulls together through good times and bad.”

      “You make it sound idyllic.”

      Cindy turned to gaze at the crepe myrtle trees in full bloom, their delicate blossoms coloring the landscape. As she did, she thought of her own loneliness, the empty nights, the longing for what would never be. “Not exactly idyllic. But genuine.”

      “That’s rare enough in the world today.”

      Agreeing, Cindy nodded. Seeing that they were nearing the turn to the address he’d given her, she pointed out the way.

      “Linda promised to show me the best Rosewood has to offer,” Flynn commented as he made another turn.

      “She’s a great Realtor, as well as a nice person,” Cindy acknowledged. “And hopefully she’ll have some decent listings.”

      Glancing at her, he frowned. “That was said with a bit of doubt.”

      Cindy hesitated. “Rosewood doesn’t have much growth, so there’s not a lot of new home construction. People tend to settle in and stay in one place. I think only one new subdivision’s been built in the last twenty years. So, not much was available when I started looking. Luckily I was able to stay with Katherine because it took me a while to find my place.”

      “Is that how you wound up in the Victorian?”

      “Oh, no! It’s exactly what I wanted. That’s why it took so long. I’ve dreamed of owning one of the painted ladies as long as I can remember. I didn’t want to settle for anything else.” Or anyone else, she added silently.

      Flynn glanced at her in baffled astonishment and she wondered why he seemed so surprised. Belatedly she also wondered just what he had expected.

      Then, rounding the corner, they arrived at the first house. A cheerful Linda Baker waited on the front porch.

      As they walked through the house, Cindy found her gaze going more toward Flynn than the smallish interior. Sunshine spilled through the uncurtained windows, brightening the rooms. Flynn turned just then and the light framed his uncompromising features. Despite the fact that his lips didn’t rest in a smile, she was so drawn to him, it was nearly a physical ache. What was it about this one man that touched her heart in a way no other had?

      His gaze shifted, meeting hers, and for a moment she glimpsed uncertainty. As instantly she knew it to be a rarity for him. Again she wondered why he was doing this. How could he consider moving to this sleepy town so far from everything that was intrinsically him?

      Flynn again shifted his gaze, obviously unwilling to share that truth with her. But it didn’t stop her wondering, nor her awareness when he brushed by.

      She pulled back swiftly, yet she could see his eyes widen in startled surprise. Her vivid purple skirt twirling, she spun away from him, practically running toward the front door.

      A few moments later Linda joined her, keeping her voice low. “I really thought he’d like this one.”

      Perhaps if Flynn didn’t find a house to his liking, he would abandon his plan to move to Rosewood, Cindy mused silently. Just as instantly she remembered her bond with Julia, her responsibility to her sister’s children.

      Soon they were on the way to the second house. Then the third. Again, Flynn patiently outlined all of his needs to Linda, who listened carefully, but not too hopefully.

      And it was only downhill from there. Everything they’d seen was in need of major repair. Also, none of the houses seemed to suit Flynn. Even with significant renovations, Cindy couldn’t see him in any of these homes, including the one they now viewed.

      “This one’s a bit on the modern side,” Linda told him, obviously trying to interject some enthusiasm into her voice for the not-too-inviting house. “That should appeal to a forward-thinking man.”

      “Hmm,” Flynn replied.

      “It has quite a bit of potential,” Linda added hopefully.

      Flynn glanced at the unusual roofline. “What was this originally? A school?”

      “Yes. But it had extensive renovations when it was converted. The kitchen—”

      Flynn, however, was shaking his head. “Anything left to show me?”

      “I’m afraid not. The only other listings in town are a few two-bedroom starter homes that aren’t nearly as large as you’ve told me you need. Honestly, if I thought another Realtor would have something more appropriate, I would tell you. But there’s only one other company in town and we’re both on a multi-listing system. I’m afraid that with this temporary housing shortage, there just isn’t much of a selection.” Linda drew her brows together. “Actually, knowing what you want, especially considering your preference for contemporary, I think you ought to consider building.”

      “Won’t that take a while?” Cindy asked, wondering if this could be the relief she’d hoped for.

      “Probably,” Linda agreed.

      “But I’ve already sold my house in Houston,” Flynn told them in a surprisingly defeated tone.

      Cindy tried not to let her breath escape in a huge whoosh. “You did?”

      “Yep. I thought I’d find something here.”

      “Perhaps Linda has the right idea—build a house. Can’t you hold off the closing date on your house?”

      “Nope.” His expression tightened. “We closed last Friday.”

      Cindy winced.

      “I wish I hadn’t told the girls we were moving right away,” Flynn muttered. “I realize now it was a hasty plan, but I never thought I’d encounter a housing shortage.”

      Linda brightened suddenly. “Cindy, you’ve got a ton of room at your house. If Flynn decides to build, maybe he and his kids could stay with you until his house is finished.”

      Nonplussed, Cindy stared first at Linda, than at Flynn.

      “We couldn’t impose,” Flynn began.

      “Well, it wouldn’t be imposing,” Cindy found herself saying. What could she say with Linda staring at her with those puppy-dog eyes and Flynn looking like a stalwart, if bereft, widower? “It can’t take that long to build a house,” she added weakly.

      “And I have the perfect contractor!” Linda exclaimed. “Roy Johnson—my cousin. He just finished a job, and I know he’s available. And there’s plenty of land for sale locally.”

      Flynn still looked torn. His gaze was probing as he met Cindy’s. “Are you sure about this?”

      Her throat thickened as every bit of her common