The Sheriff's Proposal. Karen Smith Rose

found herself holding her breath, which was silly.

      At least, she thought it was silly until Logan stood beside her and offered her a glass of wine. When he handed her the juice glass, she realized the trembling inside her extended to her fingers. She took a sip and set the glass on the balustrade.

      He did the same. “We didn’t talk about Costa Rica and what happened to you there.” His voice was low, and in the shadows he seemed almost larger than life.

      “It’s not necessary, Logan. I’m fine.”

      “That’s a generic word that doesn’t describe or explain anything. You’re not a generic woman.”

      Logan made her feel feminine and special. As she was growing up, tagging along with her parents, she’d often felt she was a bother. She’d thought she’d put all that behind her—the feelings of loneliness and isolation. Costa Rica had stirred them up, and being cared for and loved by Lily and Ned hadn’t eased them but had brought even more confusion to the surface. And now Logan, making her feel she was special…

      “Meg?”

      Even in the darkness, her eyes sought his. Connected to him for the moment, she felt the impact of her loneliness, more loneliness than she’d ever felt before.

      Logan stroked her hair away from her cheek, and she trembled. When he bent his head, she knew she wanted his kiss and needed his kiss. But panic rose within her. In an instant, she realized she was as afraid of involvement with Logan as she was of returning to her profession.

      Afraid? Of doing the work she loved? Why?

      The questions alarmed her almost as much as the thought of drowning in Logan’s embrace. She pulled away from him, confused and afraid, but not sure of what.

      “I have to go, Logan.” Her voice was firm although her insides were quivering. Always keep an outwardly calm appearance. Always hide personal feelings. Always smile and act gracious. She’d learned to hide her feelings from her parents, and her profession reinforced her inner rules. Often she had to hide her thoughts while she conveyed someone else’s words. But she didn’t want to think about it now; she just wanted to escape.

      Logan didn’t mention the almost-kiss. But he did confront her. “What’s wrong?”

      “Nothing’s wrong. It’s getting late, and Lily and Ned will worry.”

      “You’re a big girl, Meg.”

      She summoned up a smile. “Lily forgets that.”

      “You don’t have to run off just because we were getting a little too intense.”

      Intense. Yes, and turned-on, too. Ignoring his statement, she plowed on as if he were a foreign diplomat and she were his interpreter. “Thank you so much for dinner. I enjoyed it.”

      Logan frowned. “I did, too. Maybe we can do it again sometime.”

      Not until she straightened out her thoughts. Not until she knew what was scaring her so. She nodded and went to the door. “I can let myself out. Really, Logan, I had a lovely time.”

      She reached for the door, and he didn’t move. Maybe he realized if he came toward her, she’d run even faster.

      “Tell Lily and Ned I’ll stop by soon,” Logan said in a low voice, reminding her she couldn’t run from him forever. “I want to see Manuel, Carmen and the baby again before they leave.”

      Opening the door, she stepped into the kitchen. “I will. Thanks again for supper.”

      Meg let the door shut behind her. Logan didn’t follow her, and she told herself she was glad. But when she reached her car and turned on the ignition, she wondered how different the night might have been if he had.

      The morning was clear, the sky blue, the air carrying the lingering fragrance of the last days of summer. Meg had decided to walk to Willow Valley high school Monday morning for her appointment with the principal instead of driving. She needed the time alone to think.

      After she’d left Logan’s apartment Saturday night, she’d returned to Lily and Ned’s and sat on the porch in the old wooden swing. For the first time in a long time, she’d remembered the conversation she’d overheard when she was twelve. The conversation that had changed her life.

      “Meg was an accident that never should have happened,” her mother said to her father. “But everything has worked out. She’s only held us back a few times. If she decides to stay with Lily while we go to New Delhi, that’s her choice. She’s old enough to make it.”

      At that moment Meg had realized she was old enough to make a choice and decide what was best for her. She would stay with her aunt and uncle permanently while her parents traveled, and accept the love her Aunt Lily and Uncle Ned could offer—because her parents apparently had none to give.

      Swinging and staring at the moon last night long after midnight, she understood why she was afraid to get involved with Logan. When she was a child and her parents left her at her aunt and uncle’s while they traveled, she’d learned that attachment hurt. Loving her parents, wanting their love in return, she’d discovered abandonment hurt even worse. Nurtured by Lily and Ned, she’d missed them when she traveled with her parents. But staying at Lily and Ned’s, she’d longed to be with her parents. The situation was confusing for a child. At twelve she’d tried to end the confusion by staying in Willow Valley.

      When she was an adult, her relationship with Todd had just reinforced the fact that attachment led to hurt. She’d made friends in D.C. But they were social friends, not friends in whom she’d confide. She’d never confided in Todd, either, not about her deepest feelings and dreams. Yet she’d let Logan see a vulnerable side of her she usually kept hidden. She could still feel his arms around her, the brush of his fingers against her cheek. Her attraction to Logan had taken her by surprise. Yet she could cope with that. After all, she didn’t have to be around him. She didn’t want to get involved, so she’d simply stay away. The solution to that problem was easy.

      But her career and her fear of returning to D.C. were another matter. She loved her work. It was important and necessary. Yet she was scared that she’d be put in a situation again where her interpretation skills could be a matter of life and death. She was afraid of the responsibility, afraid of getting hurt again, but most of all, afraid of making a mistake. She could have cost everyone involved their lives. It was her fault that their kidnapper had started shooting. Thank God she was the only one who’d gotten hurt. But what about the next time? What if…?

      Meg hurried across the parking lot of the high school, trying to chase her thoughts away. Entertaining doubts would only give them more power. She swung open the door to the building and headed for the office. The lobby had a familiar recently polished floor smell, and she smiled. During her time in high school, living with her aunt and uncle, she’d finally experienced a sense of belonging and stability that had been missing from her first twelve years.

      When Meg opened the door to the office and stepped inside, the secretary smiled at her. “Can I help you?”

      “I have an appointment with Michael Holden at eleven-thirty.”

      The door to the principal’s office stood open. Meg heard two masculine voices. In fact, if she wasn’t mistaken…

      Michael stood in the doorway and motioned to her to come into his office. He was six feet tall and in his late thirties. He’d accepted the position as principal of Willow Valley high school the year before. Lily had introduced Meg to the man after church services one Sunday. Meg didn’t know much about him—just that his blue eyes twinkled when he smiled and his voice was gentle yet strong enough to persuade recalcitrant teenagers to listen to him. He’d e-mailed her, asking her to consider participating in an assembly for the students. She’d made this appointment with him to discuss it.

      Except she hadn’t expected to see Logan MacDonald standing in the principal’s office. In his uniform, he always seemed to be taller, broader, a force she couldn’t ignore.

      Logan