Mercury Rising. Christine Rimmer

smiled at him.

      He saluted her, the way he had that morning, two fingers briefly touching his forehead. Then he turned toward the street again and continued down the walk.

      She closed the screen and shut the door and told herself that whatever he hinted at, nothing would happen. She’d ended it before it had a chance to begin.

       Chapter Four

       C ade left town sometime the next day.

      When Jane got home from the bookstore Monday night, his house was dark. The green Porsche was nowhere in sight. At a little after noon, on Tuesday, Jane spotted Caitlin on Cade’s porch, picking up the mail and papers as she always did whenever he went away.

      Wednesday, at a little before five, Gary Nevis dropped in at her store. He bought a book on western wildflowers and asked her to have dinner with him Saturday night.

      She looked into his handsome, friendly face and felt like crying. He was just what she was looking for. Except for one little problem. He didn’t fill her fan tasies.

      And he never would. That thing, that spark, that whatever-it-was. With Gary, well, it just wasn’t there.

      In the back of her mind, Cade’s taunts echoed, You run into any steady men, any true, good men? You dated a few of them, those good guys, those solid guys? So what happened? How come you’re not with one of them now?

      She turned Gary down, softly and firmly. She could see in his eyes that he understood the extent of her refusal. He wouldn’t be asking again.

      She’d already been feeling low. After that, she felt lower still.

      She arrived home at a little after nine that night. The house next door remained dark. No green Porsche crouched at the curb.

      Jane went to bed around ten, drifted off to sleep and then woke at a little after three. She lay there, staring into the darkness, until she couldn’t bear it for another second. Finally she gave in. She got up and looked out the window.

      Big surprise. His house was dark. She went back to her bed and turned her pillow over to the cool side. She punched it to fluff it a little. Then she resolutely closed her eyes.

      Sleep was a long time coming. Sometimes her mind could be every bit as unruly as her hair.

      Thursday at four Jane held her biweekly Children’s Story Hour. She had a presentation area in the rear of the store, with a mishmash of chairs and benches—and also with a lot of plump pillows in the corners for folks who preferred to sit on the floor. She held the story hour there, as she did the various readers’ groups she hosted, the occasional musical evening and any speaker or workshop events.

      As it turned out, the story hour was just what she needed. She read some Dr. Seuss and a little Shel Silverstein and then a few chapters from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

      Her heart lifted as she looked out over the small, wide-eyed faces, and she felt a smile breaking through the gloom that had been dogging her since she told two men no—one she wanted and one she didn’t, one who was all wrong and one who was just right. Reading to the kids always raised her spirits, brought hope to life again.

      Someday, she would find the right guy. She would marry again, this time well and wisely, marry a man who not only turned her bones to water, but who also loved and respected her, a man who would never hurt her, a man who wanted children as much as she did.

      Jillian Diamond came bouncing into the bookstore at a little after six on Friday.

      Jillian had her own business, Image by Jillian. She taught her clients how to dress for success. She also wrote a column, “Ask Jillian,” for the Sacramento Press-Telegram. She’d already spoken at Jane’s store once, back in March. Lots of folks showed up and Jillian had really wowed them. She was funny and she had some quirky and fascinating ideas. Jane had prevailed on her to do it again.

      For her talk this time, Jillian wore a short, sleeveless, fitted sheath in a geometric print and a pair of white patent go-go boots. Her gold-streaked brown hair curled loosely around her arresting face. Her gray eyes sparkled beneath those startlingly dark, thick brows.

      “Janey, I made it. Have to tell you, though, I had my doubts. What is it with Highway 50, anyway? Is there ever a time when half the lanes aren’t blocked off for repairs?”

      “Sure. That would be in the middle of winter, when all the lanes are closed due to ice and snow.” They hugged.

      Jillian smelled of her favorite perfume, Ralph Lauren’s Romance, and also of Cheez Doodles. She was carrying an open bag of them. She stepped back from the hug and popped one in her mouth, then held out the bag to Jane.

      “No, thanks.”

      “I stopped by the house and left my suitcase and stuff.” Jillian gobbled more Cheez Doodles. Jane wondered how she did it. Jillian ate whatever she wanted and she never worked out and she weighed just what she’d weighed the day they graduated from New Venice High—which was about one-fifteen, soaking wet. In go-go boots.

      “Oh, I am starving,” said Jillian. “And I’m in a burger kind of mood. Let’s go next door.”

      Next door. To Caitlin Bravo’s place.

      “To the Highgrade?” It came out sounding grim, though Jane truly hadn’t meant it that way. Really, there was no reason to avoid the place. Cade wouldn’t be there. He wasn’t even in town.

      “Janey. Sometimes you are a total food snob.”

      “I am not. I love a good burger as much as anybody.”

      “Then what is the hang-up here?” Jillian slid a glance at Madelyn, Jane’s clerk, who was busy ringing up a sale at the register. Then she leaned close and whispered, “A Mommy Dearest issue?”

      “No, nothing like that.” Until the day Jane turned eighteen and eloped with Rusty, thus declaring her independence from Virginia Elliott in a very big way, she never would have dared to upset her mother by entering Caitlin Bravo’s place of business. But all that was years ago. Now, Jane ran her own life and allowed no one to tell her where she could or couldn’t go. She often headed over to the café next door for a sandwich—or she used to, until recently, when she’d become increasingly worried she might run into Cade there.

      Jillian’s thick brows were all scrunched up. “Well if there are no, er, family issues involved and you love burgers, why not?”

      “Good question.” Jane tried to sound breezy. “If you want to eat there, it’s fine with me.”

      Jillian stepped up to the register and offered the rest of her Cheez Doodles to Madelyn. “Enjoy.” She brushed the orange dust from her hands and turned back to Jane. “Let’s go.”

      Caitlin was there to greet them. “Well, look who’s here.” She emerged from behind the cash register counter in the Highgrade’s central game room. “What’s up?”

      Jillian told her. “I’m speaking next-door at Jane’s tonight.”

      “Speaking of what?”

      “Having It All and Loving It. How to Please Both Yourself and Your Man.”

      Caitlin chuckled her low, naughty-sounding chuckle. “Well. I’d say that about covers everything.”

      “Drop over if you get a chance.”

      “Sweetie, I just might take you up on that—and right now, I suppose you two want to eat?”

      “You bet.” Jillian’s eyes were shining. “I’m starved. For a bacon and Swiss burger, I think. With onion rings and a chocolate shake—but I’ll have a look at the menu, just in case something else jumps out at me.”

      Caitlin’s false eyelashes swept down. When she looked up again, it was straight at Jane. “We’ve missed you around here lately.”

      “Oh,