Groom in Training. Gail Martin Gaymer

fingers. Nick let him, then unfolded his hands to pet Fred.

      “If he’s bothering you, he’ll stop if I tell him.”

      “He’s fine.” He continued stroking Fred’s coat. The dog appeared in ecstasy. “Suzette should be this calm.”

      “She would with obedience training.” She studied his face, dark eyes, almost bitter chocolate, canopied by a sweep of dark brows and hair the color of cordovan leather. When his gaze caught hers, her pulse skipped.

      Nick tilted his head. “She needs it.” He released a lengthy breath. “I doubt if Martin would bother.”

      She rolled her eyes, agreeing.

      “I came to look at the fence and see what we could do.” He gave Fred’s head another tousle and rose.

      “But Fred hasn’t dug since that day. Hopefully, I won’t have any more conflicts with your brother.”

      He grinned and motioned toward the backyard. “Let’s take a look anyway.”

      Agreeing was easier. She enjoyed his company. Steph led him to the kitchen, then through the sliding door to the patio, hoping whatever he came up with wouldn’t cost a fortune.

      Nick headed to the fence. It looked different than when she’d met him two weeks earlier. The stubbled earth now sprouted colorful tulips and golden daffodils along the chain links. Since that day her life had colored as brightly.

      Nick probed the ground with a piece of tree limb he’d found in the yard. “Bricks or concrete might do it. Let me see what I can do.” He eyed his brother’s yard, then strode along the fence to the back.

      Steph assumed he was looking for places Fred had dug, but she knew her dog. Suzette had stirred up Fred that day just as Nick had affected her. The admission made her nervous. She gazed at Nick’s broad shoulders as he ambled along the fence. His dark hair picked up a sheen from the sunlight, and she pictured his dark brows arching above his glinting eyes. The man lifted her up like no one had in years.

      Doug’s death had weighted her with guilt. What could she have done to cause him to take his own life? What could she have done to save him? Those questions had darkened her life for too long. Today she felt buoyant. Hopeful. Even though Nick could easily walk out of her life tomorrow, he’d helped her make strides. She knew now that if she could convince herself she had nothing to do with Doug’s death, she could find happiness again.

      “How about a high brick wall?”

      Nick turned with a laugh just as Fred started barking.

      Steph spun around.

      The dog scampered across the yard, chasing a squirrel who dashed up her maple tree. Fred sat below while the critter chittered at him from above.

      “The poor squirrel. Fred’ll stay there forever if I let him.” Steph clapped her hands. “Fred, come.”

      The dog did a double take, obviously not wanting to leave his post, but he changed his mind and trotted to Steph, his head twisting to make sure the squirrel hadn’t escaped.

      “Good dog.” Steph patted his head, wishing she had a treat.

      Nick headed toward her, his eyes no longer on the perimeter of the fence but on her. “You’re right. No more digging.”

      “Told you.”

      He chucked her under the chin. “Suzette’s to blame. A woman can get under a man’s skin and cause him to do things he’s never done before.”

      A man could do the same. He could burrow into a woman’s heart and cause her to feel things she hadn’t felt in years.

      Nick rested his hand on her arm. “You have a real way with Fred.”

      “That’s what obedience training does. It works.” She hoped she made her point.

      He backed up, a playful expression spreading across his face. “Yes, but does it work on you?”

      “On me?” She searched his eyes.

      He clapped his hands. “Steph, come.”

      Her feet moved toward him like a magnet. He slipped his hand on her shoulder and gave her a long look. “Good girl.”

      Their eyes locked. She couldn’t move. She blinked, her control draining. She broke the connection, but her gaze lowered, drawn to his lips so close she could almost taste them.

      “Great job.” He drew back as if he’d felt the same pull of emotion. “You’re almost as good as Fred.”

      Steph found her voice. “If that’s so, then where’s my treat?” Did she really say that?

      His eyes flashed. “Hmm? Good question.” He rested his hands on her shoulders. “Do you own a bicycle?”

      Her pulse kicked. “A bicycle? I don’t know if I can still ride a bicycle.”

      “It’s like walking. Once you’ve learned you never forget.” He squeezed her shoulder. “I can borrow one for you.”

      “That’s my treat?”

      He laughed. “It’s Memorial Day this weekend. We’ll go on a picnic. How about letting me grill you a steak?”

      “So that’s why you came over.” She gave him a feeble smile as he slipped his arm around her shoulder. “I’ve always had a thing for steak.”

      “Me, too.” He grew silent, looking into her eyes.

      Friendship. He made a great friend, and though she could live without the steak, affection was another story.

      Nick maneuvered the bike he’d borrowed for Steph into his SUV and slammed the tailgate. He eyed his watch. Late again. After slipping his cell from his pocket, he opened the driver’s door with the other hand and swung into the seat. When he’d finally had the brains to ask for Steph’s phone number, he put it into his cell phone, and now he pressed the memory button, shaking his head at his inconsideration. Late should have been his middle name.

      The phone rang, and when he heard her voice, his chest tightened. “I know I’m late, but I’m on my way.”

      “I understand” is all she said, and that made him feel worse. When he’d been late for his dinner with Al, Nick knew he was irked. But Steph seemed accepting. He didn’t know how to read that. Did she care enough that she forgave him, or didn’t she care enough for it to make a difference?

      He slipped the cell into his pocket and backed out of his garage, his mind on the day. He reviewed what he had brought for their picnic—a small grill, charcoal, steaks, bikes and soft drinks. Steph agreed to handle the rest. She was amazing.

      The idea of spending the day with her made him smile. No dogs. No time pressure. Fresh air. Time to talk. That’s what he needed. He had so many things to learn about her, and one day he wanted to tell her about his broken engagement, but it opened too many doors right now. Later maybe when he knew how things were going with them. Now they were friends. Friends almost too fast and that scared him.

      Her faith. The concern knotted in his mind. He liked her too much. They had things in common—the love of dogs, laughter, pride in their work—but that wasn’t enough. His love for God was primary in his life, and he needed that in his marriage.

      Marriage. Where did that come from? His heart had rushed past his good sense. Marriage wasn’t an option until he got his act together and until he felt God’s leading to a life partner. But that’s what bothered him. Nick did feel something different. He sensed Steph had come into his life for a reason and for a deeper purpose. They had a comfortable relationship together already. When he dropped by, the pleasure sparked in her eyes. But he’d also seen the look of question there, too, and he longed to know what it meant.

      Perhaps a widow saw relationships differently. He did, though he’d never walked down the aisle. It had been so close. No matter how