Vegas Wedding, Weaver Bride. Allison Leigh

since nobody else in town has stepped up to do it, I will. I’m hardly afraid of an old cattle rancher, even if he does think he owns the entire town. Do you know that he actually tried to keep me from building my house where I wanted it? Said I was impinging on the natural view from the town. You can’t even see my house from the edge of town.”

      Penny had never met Squire Clay, herself, though she’d certainly heard the man’s name. The Clay family owned one of the largest cattle ranches in the state and as far as she knew, they formed a good portion of the very backbone of Weaver. The Clays were also relatives of the Templetons, though that was a recent revelation Vivian had admitted to only after she’d moved to Weaver from Pittsburgh.

      “Vivian,” Quinn offered reasonably, “I’ve heard you and Clay aren’t the best of friends, but—”

      “We’re not even the best of enemies.” Vivian cut off Quinn. “He’s as bad as my two sons when it comes to holding old grudges. I can’t imagine how any sister of my Sawyer—illegitimate or otherwise—could have had the bad taste to marry a man like Squire. He was a boor sixty years ago and nothing has changed in the years since. It’s amazing to me that he actually found another woman willing to marry him after Sarah died.” She focused on Penny again. “So, the first order of business is to make sure my name is filed right away as a candidate. I want you to take care of that even before we leave for home. All right?”

      “Of course.” Penny had no clue whatsoever what was involved, but she knew how to pick up a phone and ask questions.

      “Very good.” Vivian smiled, running her gaze approvingly over the bathing suit that Penny had reluctantly purchased at her boss’s insistence. “Now, run along, you two. Get to the pool. The manager here has invited me to join him for dinner, so you’ll be on your own this evening. We’ll all have breakfast in my suite before we check out of the hotel, so I’d appreciate you arranging that, Penny. Quinn, make sure Delia drags herself to breakfast, also. Until then, I trust you’ll find something to entertain yourselves.” Smiling slightly, she turned on her heel and strode away.

      Neither Penny nor Quinn spoke until the old woman was out of sight.

      “So that tumor is making her crazy now,” he finally said.

      “She’s definitely not crazy.”

      He was silent for a moment. A moment in which she became painfully aware of the warmth of his shoulder where it brushed against hers.

      “My old man really asked you to keep an eye on her?”

      She moistened her lips. Little prickles of sensation were springing to life beneath her skin. “He really asked me.” If Quinn would move even an inch, she could have slid past him back into the safety of her hotel room instead of standing there in the opened doorway.

      But he wasn’t moving.

      Not even an inch.

      She tugged at the knot on her scarf, tightening the slick fabric once more. Ali had been the one to insist the bathing suit was perfect. But Maddie had tossed in the scarf, obviously understanding that Penny didn’t feel comfortable parading around in a suit that left so much of her butt exposed.