His Honour, Her Family. Tara Randel

area on her side of the counter that separated the open room, hoping it looked like she knew exactly what she was searching for. Odds were Mama hadn’t touched the system Grace had put into place before leaving for her law career, so she moved to the filing cabinet and rifled through the folders, finding the correct form. Whispering a quiet thank-you under her breath, she removed the paper and carried it to the patiently waiting gentleman.

      His eyes, a startling blue-gray she realized now, captured hers and for a moment she froze. Until one arched brow rose in a silent question.

      “Yes?”

      “Do you have a pen?”

      “A—a pen,” she stammered, annoyed at herself for losing her composure. Good grief. Yes, he was good-looking, but certainly not enough to crumble her iron control. She scurried back to the desk and snatched the one she’d been using. “Here you go.”

      A slight tug curved his lips as he took the pen.

      Smoothing her pale pink, lightweight jacket, she asked, “Are you new to the area?”

      “I’m going to be in Golden for a while.”

      Vague. But then again he didn’t seem very chatty.

      As her aspiring hire studied the form, Grace stretched her neck. She needed to get busy. The sooner she had Mama’s life back on track, the sooner she could return to hers. “There are some outdoor tables on the sidewalk in front of Sit a Spell Coffee Shop if you’d care to fill out the application there. It’s a lovely day and the air is always so fresh here in the mountains.”

      He glanced around the room. On his side of the counter, two ancient chairs were angled in the corner, a scratched table between them with outdoor magazines scattered on top. Oh, no, was that a cobweb on the ceiling? As he shifted, the wood floor creaked. She gazed at the walls, realizing for the first time that they needed fresh paint. Did the place look as run-down to him as it did to her?

      She momentarily closed her eyes, picturing the office in its heyday. Clients coming and going, tour guides checking in, her parents managing the business together. There had been lots of good moments: doing homework after school with Faith right here at Mama’s desk, Nathan underfoot as he played with his toy trucks. The times they piled into the bed of Daddy’s pickup when he went out to the warehouse to check on a canoe or piece of camping equipment. Or her favorite, hiking trips up a trail in the north Georgia mountains on a sunny Sunday afternoon, just the five of them. It seemed like a dream now. Life had been fairly normal, until fate stepped in and her father couldn’t resist an opportunity that landed him in jail.

      Her lids flew open when he cleared his throat.

      “I’ll fill it out here at the counter.”

      “Then I’ll leave you to it.”

      Turning on a very spiky heel, she faced the desk. The sight of the paperwork nearly had her groaning out loud. If her mother, Wanda Sue Harper, hadn’t sprained her ankle after a fall, Grace would be in her downtown Atlanta office, planning court strategies and writing briefs. One frantic call and she’d put her life on hold for four weeks. Scrambling to line up family leave was tricky, but since she’d been with the firm for nearly a year, she was able to cover her open cases and come home.

      It was like she’d never left.

      She concentrated on the task at hand, but she was also a bit distracted by the lingering woodsy scent of the stranger. As she peeked at his broad shoulders, tanned skin and muscular frame, she decided he looked physically suited for the job. More than capable in a non-suit-and-tie sort of way. When he looked over and caught her gaze, she dropped her head to focus on the piles of paper in front of her.

      Why was she even noticing anyway? Maybe because he’d come to a job interview wearing a long-sleeved T-shirt and worn jeans. Jeans. To a job interview! Despite his clothing choice, she found him extremely attractive. Odd, because she didn’t go for the rugged type and never dated men who didn’t dress with a bit of polish. Show her a man in a well-tailored suit and she was a goner. Better yet, put her in a professional office setting and she was one happy camper.

      This time she did groan, eliciting another brief glance from the man before he returned his attention to answering questions and supplying data. Okay, back to his being athletic. He seemed competent for the demands of the job, but the other requirements? She’d have to wait and see. She took a sip from her diet cola and then gathered up the vacation request forms she’d printed out when she’d arrived at the office. As soon as Mr. Matthews left, she’d read them over, along with returning calls and checking the website, as well as touching base with her uncle Roy, who oversaw the rental cabins. It was only ten in the morning and already she saw no end to her to-do list.

      As she reached out to grab hold of the overdue bill folder she’d compiled, the front door flew open. She glanced up to find her worst nightmare perched on the threshold.

      “Grace Marie Harper. When I heard you were back in town I had to come and see for myself.”

      The shrill voice of Lissy Ann Tremaine sent shivers over her spine, in a horror-movie, run-for-your-life kind of way. And why did everyone in town insist on using two first names?

      “Hello, Lissy Ann.”

      The slim woman, her dark hair pulled back in a stylish updo, was dressed in a trendy blouse, slacks and peep-toe pumps and dripping in gold jewelry. She crossed the room, pushed her way to the counter, elbowing Mr. Matthews aside, and rested her designer purse on top.

      “I heard your mama took a fall.”

      “You know those front steps. Real killers.”

      “So you’ve actually graced Golden with your presence.” She stopped. Giggled. “Graced. Did you get that?”

      Grace held back an eye roll but smiled. Why? she silently moaned. It was bad enough Lissy Ann and her insufferable husband had made her life miserable in high school. Did Grace have to deal with this woman as well as juggle her mother’s doctor appointments and singlehandedly run the family business?

      “I’ll be here until Mama can get back on her feet.” Which Grace refused to do, remaining seated at the desk as she talked to her childhood...well, not friend.

      Lissy Ann glanced around. Wrinkled her pert nose. “I suppose that’s a good idea. You always did make this place work.”

      Which is exactly why she’d gone to law school and taken a job elsewhere, hoping her mother would finally accept the fact that this was her business, not Grace’s.

      “I hope you get things under control. We’re having a huge, and I do mean huge, Summer Gold Celebration coming up. An entire week dedicated to merchant specials, making sure all the local lodging is booked solid, holding mini-events.” She waved a hand with a huge honking diamond on it. “You know the drill. Your mama promised to get involved. The tourist numbers should be phenomenal so we need everyone in town working overtime to make Golden the hot vacation spot.”

      After dropping her conversation bomb, Lissy Ann looped her purse strap over her arm. “We can count on you, right, Grace?”

      “Sure.”

      “I’ll send the promotional materials right over.”

      “Oh, yay.”

      Lissy Ann huffed and left. The glass door panel rattled in the wake of her departure.

      The silence felt good after having that unwelcome voice echoing off the rafters. Until a different voice said, “Friend?”

      She’d almost forgotten Mr. Matthews was still in the room. “More like mortal enemy.”

      “I didn’t know people really had those.”

      “If you had one, you’d know it...”

      He tilted his head. “Sounds like big goings-on this summer.”

      “Lissy Ann is married to the head of the chamber of commerce. They have plans