Big Girls Don't Cry. Brenda Novak

in the parking lot. I’ll be up in a minute.”

      “Please tell me you’re wearing a tie.”

      “Of course I’m not wearing a tie. It’s Saturday. No one at the university wears a tie on Saturday.”

      “Then I’m afraid you’ll have to turn around. You’re going to need one.”

      “For what?”

      “The committee has agreed to interview you this afternoon.”

      “Today?”

      “It was the only option. Mr. Zacamoto, the chair, leaves for Detroit on Monday.”

      “I thought I had to wait until next month. Why would they be so accommodating?”

      “Because of your recent and very extensive experience in the Congo. They’re trying to expedite your application.”

      That meant he was probably the center’s favorite contender for the grant. “Great,” Isaac said, allowing himself a huge sigh of relief. He couldn’t wait to fly back to Africa and continue his research. But now that he knew Keith was heading to L.A., Isaac needed to finish up a little business in Dundee first.

      “MOMMY, THERE’S A stranger here!”

      At the sound of Angela’s voice, Reenie pulled her head out of the refrigerator, which she’d been cleaning, and tossed her rag in the sink. A stranger? Reenie had grown up in this small community. There was hardly a stranger in all of Dundee.

      Quickly wiping her hands on a towel, she tucked the wisps of hair that had fallen from her ponytail behind her ears and hurried to the front door.

      On the porch stood a tall man, maybe an inch or so taller than her husband. He wore his thick dark hair, which had significant curl at the ends, longer than she liked, but the golden cast to his eyes made them intriguing.

      “Hello.” He was a stranger, all right. Reenie would’ve remembered the unusual color of his eyes, if not the long, dark lashes that framed them. Only the thick eyebrows that encroached ever so slightly on the space above the bridge of his nose kept those startling eyes from looking too feminine.

      He turned the smile he’d just given Angela on her. “I’m Isaac Russell.” He seemed to hesitate briefly, as if he expected some reaction to his name. But she was fairly certain she’d never heard of him before.

      “Rena O’Connell,” she replied, and extended her hand.

      He’d already moved to shake with her, but froze. “Did you say O’Connell?”

      Reenie hesitated. “Yes. Does that come as some sort of surprise to you?”

      “No.” He briefly gripped her hand in a firm, warm shake, then let go. “Nothing like that. I—” he cleared his throat. “I wanted to be sure I had your name right, that’s all.”

      “Sounds like you’ve got it.” It struck her that there was something odd about his reaction. “What can I do for you?”

      He cleared his throat again and tipped his head toward the driveway. “I’m, um, here about the Jeep. Is it still available?”

      She hadn’t received a single call on the Jeep since putting it up for sale a week ago. Trying to bury her dissatisfaction with her husband’s hurried departure, she’d thrown herself into a cleaning frenzy and had forgotten all about it. “Yes, it is.”

      “Jennifer!” Angela called. “Someone’s here about the Jeep!”

      Reenie’s oldest, who’d been doing homework in her room since school let out, appeared with Bailey at her heels. The dog preferred her to almost anyone else, probably because she was a gentle soul, quiet and studious. She never tied bells around his neck, or forced him to give the neighbor’s cat a ride, or insisted he wear a Santa hat at Christmas, as Isabella and Angela often did.

      Never one to be left out, Isabella hurried to join them, wearing princess dress-up clothes.

      The man glanced at each of the girls before turning his attention back to her. “Are these your daughters?”

      “Yes. Jennifer, Angela and Isabella.”

      “I mean, they’re O’Connells, too?”

      “Yes.” She frowned in confusion. “Why do you ask?”

      He scratched his head. “I used to know someone named Keith O’Connell.”

      “He’s my husband,” Reenie said with a laugh and immediately relaxed. No wonder he’d seemed surprised by her name. Evidently, he wasn’t a complete stranger, after all. “How do you know Keith?”

      “I—” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I used to work for Softscape.”

      “You’re kidding! Here in Boise or after they moved to L.A.?”

      “In Boise.”

      “That was some years ago.” Reenie tried to remember him from some of the social functions she’d attended when the company was still based in Idaho, but couldn’t.

      “Yeah, I’ve moved on to other things since then.”

      She crouched to stop Bailey from sniffing his shoes, glad her dog was acting more like his old self today. “I wish Keith were home. I’m sure he’d be excited to see you.”

      “We didn’t know each other very well.” His gaze once again rested on the girls. “You have beautiful children, by the way.”

      Bailey gave up his halfhearted attempt to act like a more energetic dog, and simply rested his snout on his paws at Reenie’s feet. “Thank you.” She patted the dog before straightening. “You’ll have to leave your card for Keith.”

      Mr. Russell searched his pockets. “I don’t have one with me. Maybe you could just tell him I said hello.”

      “Of course. Would you like to test-drive the Jeep?”

      He glanced across the yard. “Sure. That’d be great.”

      “Let me get the keys.” After a quick trip to the kitchen, Reenie led him across the yard. Old Bailey’s collar tags jingled as he and the girls followed.

      Reenie felt Mr. Russell’s eyes on her as she unlocked the vehicle. She sensed a certain curiosity coming from him, which made her wonder about him, too. She was fairly sure Keith had never mentioned an Isaac Russell. But it’d been nine years. She could easily have forgotten.

      “This is in good shape,” he said once they reached the Jeep and he’d had a moment or two to check it out. “How much are you asking?”

      She’d anticipated selling the Jeep to one of the cowboys around town, or maybe a teenager from the high school. She’d never dreamed someone like Isaac Russell would show any interest. She wasn’t even sure what he was doing in town. Dressed in a pair of chinos, a button-down shirt and loafers, he looked like he could afford something much nicer. Something more urban, like a Lexus.

      Jennifer started naming the price she’d heard Reenie mention. “Fourteen—”

      “Fifteen thousand,” Reenie quickly interrupted.

      Mr. Russell lifted his eyebrows. “Sounds like I’d better act fast.”

      “Jennifer wasn’t accounting for the new tires.”

      “I see.”

      “It’s my daddy’s,” Angela volunteered.

      “When will your daddy be home?” he asked.

      “Not for a long—”

      “Angela, that’s enough.” Mr. Russell seemed like a nice guy, but Reenie didn’t see any reason to tell him she and the girls were alone.

      “What brings you to Dundee, Mr. Russell?”