Home to Sparrow Lake. Lynn Patrick

      “Entertaining you is considered community service?”

      He laughed. “Nope. That’s just a bonus.”

      A minute later, he pulled up to the Sparrow Lake Community House, a two-story building with terraces on both levels overlooking the lake. Opening the rear door of the vehicle, he helped Kristen get out, then he removed the handcuffs.

      She rubbed her wrists as if the metal had chafed them. “I don’t understand what we’re doing here.”

      “Good works. Your alternative to paying the fine. I hope you don’t object to that, too.”

      She frowned at him but followed when he headed for the entrance to the building. He went straight to the kitchen, which was at the end farthest from the lake. Two gray-haired women wearing dresses and sensible thick-soled sandals were filling one of three cardboard boxes.

      “Kristen,” Alex said, “Have you met Nellie?”

      “Of course. I used to live here, remember. How are you doing, Nellie?”

      “Pretty well. It’s nice to see you again. Though I thought you were coming by my consignment store.”

      “Don’t worry, I’ll make it there soon.”

      Alex relaxed a little.

      Kristen was smiling as she informed him, “I know Louise, too. She works part-time at Sew Fine.”

      “Kristen!” Louise’s dark face lit up and she laughed with delight. “You’re here to help Alex deliver the meals! Bless your sweet heart.”

      “Yes, the meals,” Kristen said, moving closer to take a better look at the filled boxes.

      “We have a couple of dozen seniors around town who aren’t as mobile as some of us are,” Louise explained. “So a bunch of us with too much time on our hands take turns providing them with a good meal every day.”

      Nellie said, “We call this the Sparrow Seniors Soup Kitchen.”

      “Not that we actually serve soup,” Louise quickly added.

      “We do sometimes.”

      “Only in the winter, though.”

      The women looked annoyed with each other until Kristen said, “This is really wonderful of everyone involved.”

      “And wonderful of Alex to fill in for our driver at a moment’s notice.” Louise shook her head. “Poor Bernie called in sick an hour ago and we didn’t know what we were going to do since Nellie doesn’t drive anymore. And I never learned.”

      Still wondering how anyone not living in a big city got by without driving, Alex said, “No problem.” His gaze lingered on Kristen’s face. For once, she wasn’t frowning at him. “I’m glad to help out. That’s a great thing about living in a small town, having a sense of community that the big city doesn’t have.”

      He noticed Kristen’s lips tightened a tad. Then she relaxed and asked, “What can I do?”

      Louise handed her a clipboard. “Here’s the list of homebound seniors and their addresses. It also tells you if there’s a special meal. A few of our seniors are vegetarians. And one couple keeps kosher. All of their lunches are marked and are in this smaller box.”

      Looking over the list, Kristen said, “Okay, I can keep track.”

      Alex placed the smaller box on top of a big one. “I’ll be back to get the other box in minute.”

      “No need,” Kristen said. “I can get it.”

      She impressed Alex by picking up the box as if it weighed next to nothing. “You work out.”

      “Just keep that in mind,” she muttered, leading the way out of the kitchen.

      “Bye-bye,” Nellie called after them.

      “And thank you both,” Louise added.

      Alex followed Kristen, admiring the way her hips swayed gently. Rather than a suit, she wore a dress today, something less rigid and more feminine in a print—blue on white, the blue the same shade as her eyes. And her strappy heels made her legs look long and gorgeous.

      When they got to the patrol car, Alex said, “Let’s just put these in the backseat.” He wedged the boxes against the vehicle and opened the door.

      She slid her box inside. “Where am I supposed to sit?”

      “Next to me.”

      “In handcuffs?”

      Alex juggled the boxes and got them both in the backseat. “Not if you continue to be cooperative.”

      She gave him a searching look. “How long did it take you to come up with this plan?”

      “What plan?”

      Raising her eyebrows, she grabbed the clipboard and walked around the squad car. Alex swallowed his smile as he slid into the driver’s seat. She was a smart cookie. He wasn’t surprised she’d figured him out.

      Now he had to find a way to keep her from thwarting his attempt to get to know her better.

      CHAPTER SIX

      KRISTEN WOULD NEVER admit she was enjoying herself in Alex’s company, but there it was. Halfway through their deliveries, she had already seen parts of town she didn’t remember. She’d also seen some nice people she remembered from the old days and felt good about doing something positive for the elderly who couldn’t do for themselves.

      Apparently, Alex hadn’t hesitated in taking over for the regular driver. His generosity of spirit touched her. She was having a real feel-good moment because of him. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d done something so spontaneous and for such a good cause...not that she’d had much choice in the matter. But still...

      “I hear Margaret is retiring,” Alex said.

      “She turned in her resignation at the university a few days ago.”

      “About time she took it easy. She’s...um...a lot like you.”

      Surprised, she said, “I’m nothing like Aunt Margaret. She’s so creative. She has an artist’s soul. I’m very practical and boring.”

      “Boring?”

      Kristen waited for a verbal shot from the police chief, but he simply let the word hang in the air between them.

      Then he said, “I wasn’t talking about what you do but about how you do it. From what I understand, Margaret has been filling her every moment, mostly with work. Sound familiar?”

      “Okay, so I admit I’m a type A. What’s wrong with that?”

      “Nothing. But people can be ambitious and competitive about fun things, too.”

      “I’m not sure I know how to have fun.”

      Having an adventure like this was unexpected and a little strange. So was giving up control to someone else. And yet, letting someone else be in charge for once gave her a taste of freedom that she enjoyed. No decisions to make, even if for a short while. She couldn’t help but respect Alex.

      She gave him the address for the Gerbers, who were the next people on the list and a couple she knew. A few minutes later, he pulled up in front of a house that showed its age. The siding didn’t look bad, but paint peeled from the porch steps and the windows. In addition, the grass was overgrown and the flower beds needed tending.

      “Wow, this place could use some work,” Kristen said.

      “Make a note of it on your list.”

      “Why?”

      “We’re starting a community service program for first-time offenders. We’re looking to help people who