“I never knew I had a weakness for blondes,” Jordan mused.

Hailey didn’t even manage to draw a breath of relief before his hand dived deeper into her hair, cupping the back of her head, his thumb stroking her scalp. Goose bumps streaked down her back and up again, making her breath catch as she met his eyes. “But maybe I don’t,” he continued. “Maybe it’s just you.”

“This is not a good idea,” she stammered. “Definitely, absolutely, positively not. In fact, it’s a bad idea. A rotten idea.”

“It’s the best idea I’ve had all year.”

“You know there’s no point. It can’t go anywhere. Too complicated…”

“We’re not getting married,” Jordan murmured. Oh, Lord. He was kissing her jaw, close to her ear, his bristly cheek rubbing hers, and her goose bumps got goose bumps. “We’re just going to kiss.”

Hannah Bernard always knew what she wanted to be when she grew up—a psychologist. After spending an eternity in university, studying towards that goal, she took one look at her hard-earned diploma and thought: Nah. I’d rather be a writer. She has no kids to brag about, no pets to complain about, and only one husband, who any day now will break down and agree to adopt a kitten.

Books by Hannah Bernard

HARLEQUIN ROMANCE®

3762—BABY CHASE

3774—THEIR ACCIDENTAL BABY

3792—MISSION: MARRIAGE

3814—THE HONEYMOON PROPOSAL

The Dating Resolution
Hannah Bernard

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CONTENTS

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

PROLOGUE

BREATHING in the familiar scent of chalk, Hailey squirmed into the small seat behind the dwarfish desk and faced her friend from the perspective of a nine-year-old. “I’d like to make a statement,” she announced.

“I’m holding my breath,” Ellen managed to say around the pen between her teeth. She pulled a thermos out of her briefcase and filled the yellow plastic cup. “Why can’t thermoses ever keep coffee warm more than a couple of hours?” she complained with a grimace after spitting out the pen and taking a sip. “Someone should do something about that.”

“This is an important announcement. Put down your coffee and pay attention.”

“Sounds serious. Is it about your New Year’s resolutions?”

“Of course. What else would it be this time of year?”

Ellen made a show of pushing her coffee away and leaning back in her seat. “Well, let me hear it.”

Hailey sat up straight, preparing for her dramatic declaration. “No more men!” she called out, emphasizing it with a sweeping hand gesture.

“Uh-huh,” Ellen said, returning her attention to the pile of paper in front of her. “Right. And you’re going cold turkey on chocolate too, aren’t you?”

“Well—”

“…and doing daily sit-ups?”

“Well—”

“And getting up earlier on weekends?”

Hailey frowned. This was the annoying thing about friends. They knew you too well. “This time, I mean it. Seriously. And for more than two weeks.”

“I see. Why? Must be pretty urgent since you invaded my classroom to tell me.”

Hailey glanced around the third grade classroom, empty of children, but not of children’s presence. Classrooms never were. “At least I waited until the kids were gone. Although,” she added darkly, “if someone had told me the truth about men at an early age, I could have joined a convent straight out of high school and saved myself a lot of misery.”

“You mean you hadn’t already figured boys out by third grade?”

“Nope, stars in my eyes until I was nineteen or so. I guess I was a late developer. Hence all the scars on my heart.”

“Aw, Hailey.” Ellen made a sympathetic sound, but her pen did not pause on the paper she was scribbling on. “Why are you really here?”

“No other reason! I just wanted you to be the first to know. Especially as you’re always dragging guys in my direction.”

“No more men, huh?”

“No more men. As in, you’re not allowed to set me up, introduce me to guys, or in other ways work against my resolution.”

“I see. And are you—in principle—swearing off men for good?”

“Well, no,” Hailey admitted. “I haven’t entirely lost my faith in half of the human race. Not yet.”

“Phew.”

“It’s me. I’ve been making so many mistakes when it comes to guys. So, I’m taking a year out.”

“A year?”

“Yep.”

“A whole year?”

“Yes.”

Ellen put down her pen and leaned forward. “Hailey, do you have any idea how long a year is?”

“Three hundred and sixty-five days. And don’t make me calculate the hours. I’m lousy at multiplication.”

“An entire year?”

“Yep. One year. No men. No dates. Nothing. I’m going to pretend the other sex doesn’t exist.”

Ellen tossed a finished sheet to the side and grabbed the next one. “And—assuming that there is a problem in the first place—how’s a year out going to solve anything? You’ll be in exactly the same situation after a year has passed.”

Hailey tried to get comfortable, but in a chair that size, it was close to impossible. Someone had scribbled a swearword in crayon on the desk, and she rubbed at it with a finger, although she could well echo the sentiment. Maybe third-graders got their hearts trampled on too. “No, I won’t. That’s the whole point. Think, Ellen. What do our lives revolve around?”

Ellen pushed her glasses up above her forehead, displaying the tiny wrinkles between her eyes as she pondered the question. “Do you mean practically or philosophically?”

“It’s not a trick question.”

“I don’t trust you. With you, everything’s a trick question.”

“It’s simple. What is the one thing we’re always thinking about, always talking about?”

“Is this one of your veiled ‘What’s the meaning of life?’ questions?”

“Guys! That’s what our life revolves around. Even most of our conversations revolve around guys.” Hailey banged her fist on the table in emphasis. “I am sick of spending my life sifting through men in search for an elusive—perhaps even mythological—nugget of gold.”

Ellen grinned, gesturing with a pencil. “Well, you’ve got to admit, sifting can be fun even if you don’t always strike gold.”

Hailey stared over Ellen’s shoulder at the chalk-board behind her. “Imagine—all those gold prospectors back then. Spending years, decades, their entire lives, hoping to strike a treasure, sacrificing everything else—home, family. All most of them ever got was disappointment, pain, sweat and tears. Even those few who thought they’d been lucky—so often it turned out to be fool’s gold.”

Ellen returned her attention to third-grade spelling problems. “It takes an IQ higher than mine to follow your analogies, Hailey, but I’m pretty sure you’re being depressing again.”

Hailey shook her head. “My point is, why are we doing this?”

Ellen got that annoying dreamy look on her face. “I know the answer to this one. Because true love is somewhere out there waiting for us—only it’s a bit hard to find.”

“No. True love is society’s myth. Don’t you see? We’re being sucked into a global lie.”

“I see.” Ellen sounded rather unconvinced. “Love is a worldwide conspiracy. Are aliens involved?”

“Whether true love exists or not, the truth is that the real reason we subject ourselves to this is because it’s expected of us. Because we’re considered inferior if we’re not part of a couple. We’re caving in to social pressure, and for what?”

Ellen opened her mouth, but Hailey barged on, not allowing her to interrupt. She was on a roll. She’d spent her entire miserable, lonely—even in a crowd—New Year’s Eve composing this manifesto in her head and Ellen would hear it whether she liked it or not. “Broken hearts, that’s what we get for trying! Lousy dates, broken hearts and plummeting self-esteem each time one of the many idiots in the world displays his true colors.” She leaned toward Ellen and the tiny table creaked alarmingly. “Don’t you see? We’re not doing this because we want to, but to fulfill the role society expects of us. It all comes back down to biology. Despite all our technological advances, modern man—modern woman—is still very much a slave of biology when it comes to happiness. When women aren’t mothers, they aren’t happy unless they are actively engaged in the pursuit of someone to father their child. It’s that simple.”

Ellen gave her a wry glance. “I knew it. You’ve been reading those feminist pseudoscience books again.”

“In a nutshell, my discovery is this…” She paused for dramatic emphasis. “There’s nothing wrong with being single.”

Ellen failed to look impressed. All she did was shrug. “As that seems to be our ongoing state, I should hope not.”

“But we feel there’s something wrong with it. It’s an instinctive feeling, almost like it’s a biological force programmed in our genes. And that’s exactly what it is. It is biological.”

“Good Lord, Hailey! You’re overcomplicating things. What’s wrong with wanting a partner in life? It’s just human.”

“Exactly. That’s my problem.”

“Your problem is being human? Well, welcome to the club.”

Hailey looked down and mumbled her next words. “You see, I’ve discovered something about myself, and I don’t like it.”

“What is it?”

Hailey took a deep breath before making her confession. “I’m a relationship addict.”

“Oh, God, more psychobabble.”

“I am!”

“Is that a terminal condition?”

Hailey glared at her friend. “Why do I always confide in you? Zero sympathy. Zero understanding. Worst of all, zero co-dependence. Aren’t you supposed to be my best friend?”

“Okay.” Ellen started piling stuff into her briefcase. “I’ll be good. Tell me about your relationship addiction.”

Hailey bit her lip. She probably sounded like she was being flippant about this, but the pain and humiliation of her self-discovery cut deep. “I am not happy unless I am in a relationship.”

“Come on! That’s not true!”

“It is! This is why I hurry into a relationship before I’m ready, before the guy is ready, before either one of us is sure this is what we want—before we even know each other. Then when we break up—for whatever reason that is—I rush to the next relationship, anxious to do it right this time. It’s a vicious cycle.”

Despite her promise, Ellen was rolling her eyes again. “Come on, Hailey, it’s not that dramatic.”

“Case in point. Dan. You never trusted him, did you?”

“Well…”

“You knew he was a rat long before I did. Long before I wanted to know. But I was so desperate to have it work out that I ignored all the hints, all the lies and deceit…”

“Love is blind—”

“No! Love is not blind. I’m blind. And I was on the rebound when I met him, remember? Things weren’t much better that time around, either. It’s a vicious cycle and I’ve been stuck in it.”

“Hailey, fess up, you’ve been watching those daytime psychobabble shows, haven’t you?”

Hailey crossed her arms on her chest and scowled at her friend. “Fine, fine, make fun of my brilliant theory. But it comes down to this. Will you support me in my decision?”

“A year with no dates?” Ellen shrugged. “Sure. Can’t hurt. A year is nothing. I’ve had longer dry spells than one year. Just make sure you always have plenty of chocolate on hand.”

“I’ve given up chocolate too.”

“You can’t give up chocolate and men, Hailey! That’s not a resolution, it’s self-torture!”

A good point. “You’re right. I’ll give up chocolate next year.”

Ellen snickered. “So, what happens after the year has passed? How is this going to help?”

Hailey shrugged. “After a year my mind will be clearer. I will have broken free of the cycle. I will be better able to sift through the mud.”

“Mud?”

“Men.”

“Mud equals men—and you still want one? Something isn’t adding up here.”

“When I get some distance, I will gain a new perspective. I might be able to tell real gold from fool’s gold. Or—” She shrugged. “This is also a possibility—I might have accepted the fact that Mr. Right is nothing but a romantic myth and that I’ll be a lot happier if I stop trying to create reality out of a pathetic girlish fantasy.”

Ellen grimaced as she pushed the stack of papers away and reached for her coffee cup again. “Ouch. I’d like to stick with fantasy, thank you.”

“Why build castles in the air if they’re just going to come crashing down on your head? I mean—why would we need a man to the level of being almost desperate for a relationship? We’re modern women. We can do anything we want. Right? Right?” It was a battle cry, but not surprisingly, it had little effect on Ellen.

“Uh…right.”

“Damn right! We can have companionship, friendship, a social life, a career, even children—whatever we want without bringing ‘love’ into it. We don’t need men!”

“Uh…Hailey…remember, that thing men are good for?”

“What?” Hailey stared at her friend, frowning. “Oh, that. Well, I’ll just have to pay for it, I guess.”

Ellen sputtered coffee. “Pay for it?”

Hailey raised an eyebrow. “Fixing roofs and leaking sinks and such, that’s what you meant, wasn’t it?”

“No.” Ellen shook her head for emphasis. “No. That’s not what I meant. You know very well that’s not what I meant.”

“Maybe I’ll just buy myself some tools.”

“Tools?”

Ellen looked intrigued now. When Hailey figured out why, she tilted her head back and looked up at the ceiling with an exaggerated expression of disgust. “You have such a dirty mind. I mean tools tools. You know, for fixing the roof and such.”

“Oh,” Ellen muttered. “Okay. Never mind, then.”

“Well, you’re right, there are things a woman can use a man for if you want to be old-fashioned and dependent and stick to traditional roles—but he is definitely not necessary. I’ll just go forth and purchase a cute little toolbox of my very own. I mean, it’s not like there’s any good reason why I shouldn’t be able to fix the roof myself.”

Ellen was looking confused now. “Which roof are we talking about, anyway?”

“A rhetorical roof.”

Ellen nodded. “Right. I think I had one of those once. It did leak. But you know, a toolbox isn’t going to whisper sweet nothings and cuddle you while you sleep.”

Hailey shook her head. “The cuddles come at too great a price. This will be great. I’ll make new friends, I’ll start taking classes and find myself new hobbies, and I can stop worrying about my love life, stop dreading every weekend—whether I have a date or not.” She leaned on the small desk, gesturing earnestly. “Over the holidays I started thinking—why am I doing this? Dating makes me miserable. I’m happiest when I take a break from all that. Unfortunately I never get away with it long, before someone has set me up, and I always agree to go, thinking this time it might be different. Why do we do that? Why are we so hung up on this ridiculous idea that there is a perfect guy for us somewhere out there? Where does this true love myth come from?”

“Don’t. You’re making me depressed.”

“Exactly. Just the thought of there being no Mr. Right has us depressed. So we get desperate and take all kinds of crap, just to avoid the horrible, terrible, paralyzing thought of being still single at thirty. I’ve had it. I’ve trusted too many liars, wasted too much time on losers. It stops here.”

“Hailey, you’re being ridiculous. Okay, so you’ve been unlucky with some of your boyfriends…”

Hailey sent her a look.

“Okay, all of your recent boyfriends,” Ellen amended with a grimace. “But that doesn’t mean there isn’t a decent guy for you out there. Somewhere.”

“Ah, the elusive someone somewhere sometime. Maybe mine is in Alpha Centauri, born approximately in the twenty-fifth century?”

Ellen pointed at Hailey with a pencil. “I’m serious. There’s someone out there for everyone. More importantly, your bad luck with guys does not mean there’s something wrong with you.”

That was the point, wasn’t it? There was something wrong with her. Simply a dysfunctional pattern, she hoped, not a personality flaw. Something she could work through, habits she could break. That was what this year was all about. If there was a gold nugget out there, she’d never find it if she kept her nose in the mud simply out of desperation. “I just need some time to myself,” she said, her tone low now. “Away from the dating scene. I need a chance to break free from this evil cycle—then I can start afresh.”

“Hailey…”

“Don’t you see? It’s necessary for me to get out of my current dysfunctional pattern. Embrace possibilities. Can-bes instead of must-bes.”

Ellen rolled her eyes, but Hailey could nevertheless detect a glow of sympathy and understanding. “I will support you in this, but Hailey, you’re definitely watching too many talk shows.”

CHAPTER ONE

THE house was locked and abandoned. She’d knocked for ages—and then finally resorted to trying the door-knob.

She’d flown halfway across the world—and come to a locked door. Now what? Jane had told her someone would greet her here.

This wasn’t a good sign, was it?

Maybe “someone” was simply late. She pushed her suitcases to the side and sat down on the step. Jane wasn’t answering her cell phone, so she dug in her purse for the printout of her last e-mail to double check the street name and number. Yes. She was at the right place, and the right time had come and gone twenty minutes ago, but nobody was here yet.

She sent Jane a text message, then stuffed the phone and the diary back into her purse.

She’d wait awhile.

Then she’d panic.

At least the house looked nice. And the street was pretty and quiet—if you didn’t count the noise of children yelling. Of course, for a schoolteacher that was mere background noise.

Hailey was so mesmerized watching the children rush back and forth on their bikes in the street that she nearly screamed when a shadow fell over her.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you. You must be Hailey?”

She squinted up at him. He looked like a tall and menacing shadow from this angle, but at least the voice wasn’t menacing. This was probably “someone.” “Where did you come from?”

“Next door. Jumped over the fence, so you probably didn’t see me coming. I’m Jordan Halifax.” He shifted to the side and she could look at him. Still tall and menacing and scruffy—in what she and her girlfriends in her previous life would have called a hot way. “Jane asked me to check on you when you arrived.”

They made sexy men in Alaska too. Dammit.

But she wasn’t seeing sexy. Nope. Not for another five months. See no sexy, hear no sexy, speak no sexy. She squinted until he looked like an undefined shadow again. Safer that way. “Hi. Jane said someone would meet me here, and I guess you’re it.”

“Is there something wrong with your eyes?”

Hailey blinked, and he came into focus again. “Sorry. It was the sun. Do you have my key?”

“The key? No.”

“What?”

“The key is always under the pot.” Jordan nodded at a terra-cotta pot next to the door. “Didn’t Jane tell you about it? Just push the flowerpot a bit to the right, and you’ll find it.”

Key under a flowerpot? Seriously? What was this, a place out of time?

She pushed at the pot with the heel of her hand. It scraped on the old scarred concrete, but yes, there it lay. A house key. A bit rusty, showing it probably spent most of its time outdoors.

Jordan shifted his weight as if to leave. “Well. All set? Any questions?”

She held up the key to show her new neighbor, and pointed at the offending terra-cotta pot. “I can’t believe this! This is not good. It’s an open invitation for any serial killer to enter your home!”

“Really?”

“Yes! How do I know somebody hasn’t made a copy of this?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking at her as if she was the crazy one. “You can always change the locks, I suppose. If it makes you feel better.”

“I mean—why bother to lock your door in the first place, if you just leave the key right next to it in the most obvious spot you can think of?”

Jordan grinned. “Yeah. That’s why I never lock my door.”

This was a serious culture shock for an L.A. girl.

“And you haven’t been murdered in your bed yet?”

“I don’t think so, no. Alaska’s too cold to be hell and this street is too damn noisy to be heaven.” He nodded toward the street. “Last few days before school starts. They are desperate to cram all the fun they can into this weekend. It usually isn’t quite this bad.”

“That’s not a problem for me. I’m a teacher. We’re impervious to this kind of noise.”

“That must be handy.”

“Yup. It’s a special course we take at college. ‘Closing Your Ears 101.”’

Why was she prattling on like this? Jordan smiled at her stupid joke, and she felt it in her gut. Dammit. But there was no reason to worry—he wasn’t even her type. Not even close. Hot, yes, but too scruffy. She liked neat guys. His hair was far too long, unruly and slightly curling, and although he seemed to have shaved recently, it was a bit lopsided, as if he’d been in a hurry.

She liked guys in suits and ties, hair neatly combed until such a time she saw an occasion to change that state. She liked sophisticated aftershave and polished shoes.

This guy’s tennis shoes looked like they’d seen better decades.

Feeling better at having reassured herself she would not be the least tempted by her new neighbor, she slid the key in a pocket and stood. She held out a hand. “I guess Jane told you my name, but for a proper introduction—I’m Hailey Rutherford.”

“Welcome to Alaska.” Jordan took her hand, and as she felt the warmth of it shoot up her arm she thought she detected a flash of interest in his eyes. His hand was large and warm and he held hers for what to her male-ienated mind was a moment too long.

Oh, no.

“I’m married,” she blurted out and snatched her hand back, inching her left one behind her back to hide the lack of a ring. “Happily married. Very happily.”

Amusement sparkled in his eyes—silver eyes—and a muscle at the corner of his mouth jumped, as if he were holding back a grin. Hailey gritted her teeth as a familiar feeling of folly crept up on her. Subtlety, girl!

“Congratulations,” Jordan said. “I’m happy for you.”

“Daddy!”

One of the little hooligans terrorizing the street came sprinting, taking a running leap up on his father’s back.

Dammit. The guy had a family and she’d virtually pointed a stun gun at him without a reason. Her antenna must have rusted.

An elfin face looked at her over his father’s shoulder. He looked about seven or eight. He might even be in her class, Hailey realized with excitement. She loved the feeling of meeting a new class, getting to know all the different emerging personalities inside the squirming group of children. “Hi!” the boy said, waving a grubby hand, and Hailey smiled at him.

“Hello. What’s your name?”

“Simon. Are you the new Miss Laudin?”

Jordan grabbed his son and put him down. “Her name is Mrs. Rutherford. Simon will be in your class,” he told Hailey.

“I see!” She smiled broadly at her new pupil. “Nice to meet you, Simon! Maybe you can show me the way to school, then. Ms. Laudin told me it doesn’t take more than a couple of minutes to walk there.”

The boy stared at her. “I live on the other side of school. Way over there!” He pointed east. “I ride the schoolbus.”

“Simon lives with his mother and stepdad,” Jordan explained. “But he spends a lot of his time over here with me.”

Hailey decided to feel less embarrassed about the stun gun incident. “I see.”

“Miss Laudin is a really cool teacher. She’s prettier than you, too. And she’s a Miss, not a Mrs.”

The small pout in the child’s face and the petulant tone had some alarm bells ringing. If the children adored their regular teacher, she might be in for some rough times. It might take a while for them to accept her.

But, well, that was part of the package. Part of the challenge.

“Simon!” Jordan put his hand on his son’s shoulder, gently shaking him. “You know very well that was a rude thing to say. Apologize to Mrs. Rutherford.”

“Sorry,” the boy said, with that unique expression children wore when they were not sorry at all.

“I know you didn’t mean to hurt my feelings,” she said to the child. “Apology accepted.”

The child grunted and ran away again. Hailey dug into her pocket for the rusty key. “Well, I suppose I’ll go inside and explore my new home.”

“Of course. Will your husband be joining you soon?” Jordan asked.

This was the drawback of spur-of-the-moment decisions. She didn’t have a story yet. “No. He’s…ah…he’s away. We won’t be seeing each other again until Christmas.”

Jordan nodded. “That’s rough. He’s away on a job?”

“Yes.”

“What sort of a job takes him away so much?”

Questions, questions—and a considerable lack of answers on her part. She peered at him, trying not to notice how well that sweater fit. Could she say it was none of his business?

No. That would be way too rude for the new elementary schoolteacher in such a small town. He was a helpful neighbor, a friend of Jane’s. Not good for her image in the neighborhood.

What sort of occupation took husbands away from their wives for months on end? A flash of inspiration struck, and not a moment too soon, judging from the puzzled look dawning on Jordan’s face as he waited for an answer. “He works on an oil rig.”

“Oil rig? Is that a fact?”

“Yes.” Jordan seemed to be waiting for an elaboration, so she elaborated. “You see, he’s far away. Siberia. So he can’t come home very often.”

Jordan raised both eyebrows. “He’s in Siberia?”

She started praying Siberia had oil rigs. That would teach her to do her homework in good time. “Yes. Siberia. Oil rig.”

“Fascinating. I know very little about oil rigs. What kind of work does Mr. Rutherford do?”

Hailey desperately worked at conjuring up a quick image of her fictional husband. Oil rig guy, so her preferred look—a suit and a tie, polished shoes and neatly combed hair—probably wouldn’t work. “He’s an engineer,” she said, hubby’s occupation coming to her in a second spark of inspiration. “He maintains their machinery and such.” Not bad! She smiled, proud of herself. Excellent save. A vague answer, yet detailed enough not to arouse suspicion. She could do this. Yup. She could lie like a pro.

She could lie like a man.

“I see. Well—the house should be okay. If there is a problem, you can talk to me—or call the landlord if it’s something serious.”

“Serious? Like what?”

Jordan shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m just reciting Jane’s message. She left some basic stuff in the fridge. And there are some frozen meals in the freezer.”

“That’s great. Very nice of her.”

He nodded. “Jane is a nice person. She told me she’d left plenty of notes around to explain everything—but if you have a problem, my number is on the speed dial.” He pushed himself away from the fence and grinned at her. He had a killer grin, though of course she wasn’t noticing such things either. “But in fact, yelling out the window works just as fine,” he added as he turned away. “Take care!”

Jane had this guy on speed dial?

And Simon adored Jane.

Hmm. This was interesting.

“Thanks!” She waved at the little boy hanging on the fence between their houses. “I’ll be seeing you in school, Simon!”

The boy frowned, but reluctantly waved back. Hailey grinned, looking forward to seeing the little guy in her class. It was natural for a child to miss a teacher he’d liked, but she’d win him over eventually.

Nowhere—she’d named the house in honor of her parents’ complaints about their daughter taking a position out in “nowhere”—was bigger and more elaborate than she had expected; larger than it looked from the outside too. Certainly a lot of room for one person. Jane had left everything very neat and clean—although some surfaces bore a distinct tinge of yellow from all the explanatory sticky notes.

The house seemed sturdy and well-built, and once she had the furnace going, it would no doubt be toasty no matter how cold it got out there. Of course, houses would need to be sturdy to withstand the weather up here in winter.

It was quiet, too, as she’d noticed while waiting outside. Six houses lined the cul-de-sac, each with a large yard. When the children had vanished inside their houses for dinner, it was so quiet she constantly heard the rush of her own blood in her ears. That would go away after a while, of course. She’d get used to the silence, just as she’d before been used to the constant whine of traffic, the pollution in the air and never seeing a clear sky. Then when she got back, she’d have to get acclimatized to L.A. again. It wouldn’t be a problem. Homo sapiens was a resilient species. He—she—could get used to anything.

Just like she was getting used to being a single woman not seeking a man. It had been going great. It was going great. She wasn’t even looking at men any differently than she looked at the sky or the trees, or that big bag of M&M’s on the counter. She wasn’t even noticing sexy silver eyes or killer grins or cute—

Nope. She ripped the candy bag open and poured the colorful contents into a glass bowl. She wasn’t noticing such things at all.

She grabbed a handful of candy and walked toward the back door. The backyard was huge. It vanished into a forest behind the house. She opened the door and stepped out on the porch, taking a deep breath of the fresh, clean air. What would it be like in winter, with a thick blanket of snow on the ground suffocating the branches on the trees, a steely sky above?

Beautiful. Frightening.

Just how bad did winter get up here? her sissy California side whispered.

Well, she’d find out soon enough. It would be an adventure.

There was a hot tub, out on the deck. Interesting. She couldn’t quite see herself in there in the midst of winter, with snowflakes falling into the steaming water, but you never knew. It might be fun. Or at any rate, an experience worth trying. She’d never relaxed in a hot water tub with icicles hanging from her hair before.

Adventure, right? her internal California girl asked with a sarcastic twist to her voice. Hailey ignored her. She jumped down off the porch and jogged over the grass toward the low wooden fence and peered over it. Yes. No scrawny decorative trees. It was really a forest. A real forest with real, huge trees. No sissy city trees either.

Just a few steps out of her own backyard and she’d practically be out in the wilderness.

Hailey smiled.

This was so cool!

To: All

From: Hailey@MySelfImposedExile.com

Subject: Miss me?

Hi, guys! Guess where I am! No, you’ll never guess, so I’ll just tell you—ALASKA!

I’m taking part in the teacher exchange program, and before you ask: I didn’t tell you because you’d try to talk me out of it. Now it’s too late! Don’t worry—I’m fine. This is going to be fun.

I’ll be here one semester only, so I’ll be back before Christmas. Hardly enough time to miss me, but I know you’ll try. I’m including my address and phone number—but e-mail is easiest for destitute schoolteachers, isn’t it?

Love from up north,

Hailey

The phone rang only a couple of minutes after she’d located Jane’s computer and sent an e-mail to all her friends off in cyberspace. As she picked up the phone, Hailey made a mental bet with herself about the identity of the caller.

“You are where?”

Yup. Ellen.

Hailey grinned, and in self-defense held the phone several inches away from her ear. She’d done this on purpose—not telling any of her friends what she was up to. They were far too good at talking her out of things. Now, it was too late, but she didn’t doubt they’d give it their best shot anyway. Well, they could try all they wanted—it was too late. She had committed to staying here for the next five months. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t come back until Christmas. It was perfect.

“Hi, Ellen!”

“Please tell me you were delusional or drunk—or both—when you sent that e-mail.”

“Sorry to disappoint you.”

“Where are you?”

“I’m in Alaska,” she repeated. “Just like it says in my e-mail.”

Ellen cursed. “I was hoping it was one of your stupid practical jokes. What the hell are you doing, moving to Alaska? Without even telling me!”

“I’m not moving. It’s only for one semester.”

“What will you be doing there?”

“Same thing as I’m doing at home. Teaching third grade. Their teacher is replacing me back home, you should meet her next week. She’s living in my apartment too.”

“A total stranger is living in your apartment?”

“Yup. And I’m living in her house. Isn’t this teacher exchange program a brilliant idea?”

“What teacher exchange program?”

“The new experimental scheme. We all got e-mails about it a few months ago, remember? Opportunity to expand your horizons, seek new challenges, return with new visions, blah blah blah.”

“But…but…Alaska?” Ellen shrieked. “Hailey, have you lost your marbles?”

“Why? What’s wrong with Alaska?”

“There is nothing wrong with Alaska—except that it’s as far as you can get away from here without emigrating.”

“We have phones. E-mail. It’s no worse than being a state away.

“You don’t know anyone out there!”

“That’s the good part. I get away from all the people who have a problem with my decision to stay away from men this year.”

“Is that what this is about?”

“Partly.”

“I see. So your plan is to become a hermit—see the problem?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Ellen! I’m not becoming a hermit!”

“Moving to Alaska where you don’t know anybody—without even consulting your closest friends…. Well, either you’re having a nervous breakdown, an early midlife crisis, or you’ve simply decided on a lifestyle change to go with your new no-men policy and thought a hermit sounded like a nice vocation in life.”

Hailey chose to ignore all jabs about a midlife crisis. The turning-thirty crisis was bad enough. “See? You’re part of the worldwide conspiracy! I’m not a hermit just because I’m not dating and decided I needed a change of scenery for a while!”

“Why did you need Alaskan scenery?”

“It sounded interesting. A small Alaskan town—something completely different from what I’m used to.”

“Alaska is cold!”

“Alaska is beautiful,” she countered. “The snow, the ice, the northern lights, the landscape…it’s gorgeous. I’ve always wanted to come here. I can’t wait for winter to march on.”

“It’s freezing!”

“It’s fascinating. You should see the forest behind my house! It’s amazing. Looks like something Tarzan could hide in.”

“Tarzan? Now you’re talking, if on a different continent. What are Alaskan men like?”

Hailey ignored that. “And I can’t wait to see the northern lights!”

“You’re a California girl, remember? You’ll die of cold!”

“Nah. I’ll just need a few more layers of clothes, that’s all. It’s the most wonderful excuse to buy cashmere!”

“But…but…there are no shopping malls!”

Hailey rolled her eyes. “Ellen, I’m in Alaska, not at the North Pole. I’m quite close to Anchorage. Of course there are malls.” She’d just have to hitch a ride there. Or get a car and learn about winter driving.

“Hailey, Alaska is a million miles away!”

She grinned into the phone. “Exactly.”

Ellen’s sigh was eloquent. Hailey could almost visualize her taking her glasses off and pinching the bridge of her nose. “I don’t think you fully understand the gravity of the situation. You’re a million miles away!”

“Yes. I heard you the first time. That’s the point.”

“Away from me!” Ellen wailed.

“Well, there is that.” Yes. She would miss her friends. “But I’ll e-mail you. All the time. I’ll nag and moan and whine and complain, just like normal. You won’t even notice I’m gone.”

“Bah! Why Alaska? There are men in Alaska, you know. There are men everywhere, thank God.”

“I wanted to go to a different environment for a while, get to know different people. Here I won’t have my well-intentioned friends to send me on horror dates, no relatives to look at me with sad eyes and talk about marriage and babies—see why this is perfect?”

“You’ll make new friends who’ll be just as eager to help you find true love. You’ll be in the same situation within a month. This does not solve a thing.”

“I’m telling everybody I’m already married. I’ve already set things in motion.” A ring. She needed to get a ring. And find a gossipy neighbor to do the job. Jordan didn’t seem the type.

“Oh, really? And where’s your fictional husband? You keep him up in the attic?”

“This is the brilliant part. He’s on an oil rig somewhere off the coast of Siberia and is only home for a few weeks every six months.”

“Siberia?”

Hailey grimaced. Why did everybody say Siberia in that tone of voice? “Yup.”

“Why Siberia?”

“I don’t know. It was the first thing that came to mind. Oil rig—Siberia. Maybe I saw something about it in one of those Discovery documentaries I watch when I can’t sleep.”

“Did the documentary show lots of hunky guys on those oil rigs?”

“I don’t remember. But now it has one. My husband, Robert.”

“Robert?”

“Yes. Robert.”

“Are you nuts? Would you seriously marry a guy who was on the other side of the world most of the time? What kind of relationship is this anyway?”

“That’s not really relevant, is it? He’s not real. This is fiction.”

Ellen snorted. “Very creative. I need a drink. Does Siberia even have a coast?”

“Of course it does! It’s huge. It has to have a coast.”

“A real coast, or just a frozen chunk of ice?”

There was an awkward silence filled with mutual embarrassment over their geographical shortcomings. “Sure it has a coast,” Hailey said uncertainly. “I mean, of course it doesn’t have sunny beaches, but it has to have a coast!”

“A husband in Siberia. How convenient. He’ll be right next door. All you have to do is cross the North Pole. But let’s get back to the important issue. Me.”

Hailey chuckled. “I’m going to miss you too, Ellen.”

“Who’s going to watch black-and-white movies with me Sunday evenings? Huh?”

They went a few more rounds before Hailey hung up, breathing a sigh of relief. Everybody would know soon, even those she hadn’t e-mailed.

CNN had nothing on Ellen when it came to broadcasting news.

The sticky notes were all over the house, everything from explaining eccentricities of the dishwasher to a motherly reminder to wear sunscreen in the winter sun. Hailey gathered them together as she came across them, smiling as a mental picture of Jane came together in her mind. She knew Jane was about her age, but with all the maternal advice littering the house she couldn’t help but picture a gray bun and pince-nez glasses. Maybe her suspicions about Jane and Jordan were way off base.

She plucked a note off the kitchen faucet and stuck it under a refrigerator magnet with a bunch of other kitchen messages. She’d probably be coming across additional ones for weeks to come.

The phone rang again, only minutes after she’d finished unpacking and was in the process of choosing a yellow note—marked frozen dinner to zap.

“Okay, you’ve had two hours. Ready to come home now?” Ellen asked without preamble.

Hailey laughed. “No.”

“Do you know the male to female ratio up in Alaska?”

“Um…no.”

“I just looked it up for you. It’s not in your favor. You’re much better off back here where there aren’t enough men to go around.”

“There may be more men here, but I’m not available here, and there is no one to contradict me on that. This is perfect.”

Ellen snorted. “This isn’t going to work. You must know, Hailey, that if you swear off men, you’re going to have Mr. Rights lining up on your doorstep. It’s a cosmic law.”

“Cosmic laws are meant to be broken.”

“Just remember, don’t walk away from true love if it comes knocking.”

“True love again?”

“I’m serious. Principles aren’t worth such a sacrifice. If the right guy comes knocking—don’t send him away without a test drive. Promise?”

There was a sound at the door. Hailey raised an eyebrow, for a second wondering if Ellen could have staged this. “Hold on, I think True Love may be knocking on my door right now.”

“I’ll hold,” Ellen replied, but Hailey took the cordless phone with her. She checked the peephole, but didn’t see anything. She opened the door, irritated to notice the lack of a security chain.

“Meow,” said someone politely, and she lowered her gaze to meet a green gaze from about ankle level. It was a tiny kitten, adorable with its narrow orange and white stripes. It squeezed through the opening and bolted into the house. Hailey peered around outside, but saw no one, so she closed the door again.

“Well, we seem to have True Love,” she told Ellen. “A kitten just came asking for asylum and I have no idea where it went.”

Ellen oohed. “Great. Boy or girl? Is it a stray looking for a home? I hear they make great self-cleaning litter boxes these days.”

“I can’t keep it,” Hailey protested, walking from room to room looking for the cat. “I don’t know anything about animals. And I can’t take it with me when I go back home. Pets aren’t allowed at my apartment.”

“Don’t panic. You probably won’t be able to keep it anyway. Most likely it’s a neighbor’s cat.”

Hailey squeezed the phone between ear and shoulder and dove after a swinging tail into a kitchen cupboard. “Out of there, you little thief,” she muttered. “How can you smell the tuna inside the can? And how did you manage to open the cupboard?”

“The cat opened a cupboard?”

“Well, I didn’t leave it open, and now he’s inside.” Hailey grabbed hold of the cat by the middle and pulled it out of the cupboard. A small tail flicked in anger, and then the kitten hissed at her.

“It’s a he?”

“I don’t know.” She held the cat up and tried to check out the relevant body parts. “I have no idea. Is there an easy way to tell?”

“Hmm. Pink or blue collar? Or a name tag?”

“No collar. Hold on—someone’s knocking again.” She flung the door open, phone cradled between her ear and shoulder, cat digging its claws into her other shoulder. This time, there was a human on her doorstep. A hot, scruffy one.

Of course it would be his cat.

“Hi again. Did you get a feline visitor recently?” Hailey shifted, and Jordan caught a look at the cat hanging from her shoulder. “I see you two have met.”

“This your cat?” Hailey tried to remove the kitten, but the claws were stuck to her sweater—and a few embedded in her skin. “Ouch! Is it a boy or a girl?”

“Female.”

“Are you sure? She’s behaving an awful lot like a boy.”

“I’m a vet, I should know. She’s female.”

“And she’s yours?”

“No, she’s not my cat. That’s Helena. And she seems to be stuck to you. Can I help?”

Helena meowed, digging her claws in deeper. Hailey yelped. “Yikes! What’s she trying to do, give me a paw-shaped tattoo? Get her off me!”

“I’m trying.” Jordan leaned closer as he dug Helena’s claws one by one out of Hailey’s shoulder. After a small eternity he finally straightened up with the tiny kitten in his arms. Hailey noticed she didn’t dig into his skin with her lethal little claws.

Instead she was purring.

Typical female.

“You okay?” Jordan asked.

“Huh?” Much like Helena, she’d gotten distracted. It was the way he smelled. No sophisticated cologne, of course, it wouldn’t go with the rest of him—but something even better. Outdoorsy scent. Natural and fresh. Primitive. Masculine. Undeniably sexy.

Okay, Hailey, for that thought you spend an extra half hour on the treadmill.

Dammit! This wasn’t boding well.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I think.” She rubbed her shoulder. “No lasting damage. She’s so cute! Orange cats are so cute. Does she live nearby?”

“She’s nobody’s cat. She showed up a couple of weeks ago and begs food from everybody in the street.” He stroked the kitten and she meowed on top of her purr, butting his palm with her tiny head. “She’s used to hanging out with Jane, so you’ll probably be seeing a lot of her.” He put the cat down on the doorstep, and she sped back inside, with only a short pause to rub against Hailey’s legs, leaving another fine layer of soft orange hair.

“She found a can of tuna in the kitchen. A whole pile of cans in fact. She seemed to know the way.”

His lips quirked. “That would explain her love for Jane. And her sudden love for you.” His shoulders lifted in a shrug, drawing her unwilling attention to some excellent hidden physique under that sweater, and then he started to turn away. “Anyway, I just wanted to tell you about her, since I saw her heading your way.”

Hailey looked back. The cat was prancing back and forth by the kitchen cabinet, impatiently waiting for her to come and dish out the tuna. “What do I do with her?” she called after Jordan.

He turned back, shrugging again, his hands in the pockets of his worn—but damn well-fitting—jeans. “She’s a house-squatting stray. Let her stay if you like, else just show her the door. She’ll get the picture if you don’t feed or pet her, and find another prey.”

“Throw her outside?” That seemed a bit cruel. “Where will she sleep?”

Jordan chuckled as he jumped over the fence. “Anywhere,” he called back. “She’s a cat. Cats know better than anyone that there’s a sucker born every minute.”

Hailey shut the door and leaned against it, eyes closed. No, no, no, no.

Why did a guy like that have to live next door? Why did she have to feel drawn to the first man she met up here? Was it her addiction, already pushing her toward the first available man?

Well, she would damn well fight it. She could, and she would.

She’d completely forgotten about Ellen when there was a sound from the phone, still clenched in her hand. She brought it to her ear. “Hi. Sorry to leave you hanging.”

“I didn’t mind. I heard the entire thing. Who was that?”

Hailey gritted her teeth to keep her voice steady. Nonchalant but not too nonchalant, or Ellen would catch on. Ellen was far too good at reading voices, faces—thoughts, even. “Nobody. Just a neighbor. Someone Jane sent over to give me the key.”

Ellen’s voice turned smug. “For a nobody, he sounds pretty sexy.”

Right. Utter failure. What had she expected? “Nope. Not sexy at all. He’s sixty-nine, bald, toothless and absolutely not my type.”

“You’re lying. He sounds hunky. All that low timbre…Mmm. Oh, yes, I like him.”

“It’s just a voice! We all have one!”

“I bet he could give you goose bumps if he were to whisper something sweet into your ear. Like, say, on a dance floor? Holding you close, your head resting on his shoulder breathing in his masculine scent as you softly sway together to a romantic ballad, your bodies in perfect synchrony…”

“Oh, for crying out loud, Ellen! Shut up! Go write a poem!”

“In a minute. I just need a few vital statistics, then I’ll stop, promise. What’s his name?”

It was easier to give in and get it over with. “His name is Jordan Halifax. He’s a vet. Probably around thirty-five or something. He has a kid in my class. That enough info for you?”

“A kid? But he’s single?”

“Yes.”

“Most excellent. What does he look like?”

“Gray eyes, thick, wavy brown hair, sort of scruffy look but he makes it work. Tall, wears jeans and sweaters in that way that could make women in their weaker moments want to rip them off. Happy?”

“Wow! You’ve really looked at him, haven’t you? You only met him a couple of hours ago!”

“I know,” Hailey confessed, feeling miserable. “He’s just that kind of a guy. You should come visit and check him out for yourself. He’s not for me. I already told him I’m married, okay? I made it perfectly clear I’m off limits.”

Ellen sighed so loudly that Hailey almost expected a gust of wind to blow through the phone. “I knew it. Didn’t I tell you so? A potential Mr. Right shows up your first day in Alaska, and you kick him out.”

“Goodbye, Ellen!”

That evening, Hailey discovered she was indeed a sucker for cats. She opened a can of tuna for the little creature, then allowed her to crawl into her lap and spend the evening there, purring. She could hardly bear to disturb the kitten when it was time to go to bed, but Helena curled up on a sofa cushion and seemed to be happy. Just in case, Hailey made a nest out of a fleece blanket and deposited her there.

She walked upstairs to the bedroom and crawled into bed, but it was hard to get to sleep when dusk never showed up. Close to midnight Hailey found herself wide awake, staring out the window at the eerie light. Not night, not day.

It was almost magic.

Combined with the day’s events, it was also a surefire recipe for insomnia.

CHAPTER TWO

AFTER six weeks, Hailey had gotten used to the climate growing slowly colder, and she’d fallen in love with her class of eight-year-olds.

But she had to admit she was getting a bit lonely.

She missed her friends—and because of her fictional husband she was nervous about making new friends. Her lie was so flimsy that anyone who got close to her would see through it immediately. She’d already frowned in confusion several times on being referred to as “Mrs.”—and had to explain it away as being relatively newly married.

Yeah, right. And her brand new husband on the other side of the world. As if she’d ever let a hypothetical husband get away with that. Ha!

Some things were easier up here, despite temptation living next door. She’d given it a lot of thought, and had to confess to herself that annoyance with her friends’ interference wasn’t the only thing that had caused her to flee. She’d been too close to giving up—too close to finding it pointless to keep to her resolution. Maybe it was pointless—but even so, it was worth a try.

She was happy with her decision. This was good for her. There was freedom in being unavailable, freedom in spending Saturday evening curled up with a book and a purring cat. Not that she’d said her final goodbye to parties and clubs for ever and ever—but this was also life. Singledom wasn’t going anywhere. It would be waiting for her in January. She’d probably be a bit rusty, but she was sure she’d have a new outlook on life and love, a healthy outlook.

The small school turned out to be a fun workplace. Most of her colleagues were quite a bit older than she was, but there was good morale. Her class was small and the kids were great—once they were over the disappointment of Jane being away for the semester. Even Simon came around, the suspicious look slowly vanishing off his face, and she suspected she had little Helena to thank for that. The two of them spent a lot of time playing in her backyard during Simon’s weekends with his dad and some of Helena’s charm seemed to rub off on Hailey, especially when she started offering Simon milk and cookies to go along with Helena’s milk and tuna.

“Sure you don’t mind him coming over?” Jordan asked, leaning on the fence between their yards. His boy was halfway up a tree—the cat was even higher.

“No,” she told him for the umpteenth time. She enjoyed their neighborly chats over the fence. Somehow, it felt safe with the fence between them and his child playing close by. “Don’t worry about it, it’s fine. Helena has an endless source of energy and I don’t. If she runs around with Simon a bit, maybe she’ll let me sleep tonight.” Hailey grimaced. “She likes to hunt my toes at four in the morning.”

Helena had taken up double residence of her house and Jordan’s. She seemed to like the freedom of two homes to go to, which sometimes resulted in a double dinner. She always spent the nights at Hailey’s house—Hailey suspected Jordan didn’t let her sleep in his bed.

Simon came running, once again complaining Helena had climbed a tree too far for him to reach her.

“She’ll come down,” Hailey told him. “Doesn’t she always? She’s just teasing you. She’ll be down as soon as you turn your back and pretend you’re not even looking for her.”

Simon’s dark hair and silver eyes were a lot like his father’s—but he got his delicate facial features from his mother. Hailey had met her on Open Night and immediately noticed the resemblance.

“Mrs. Rutherford, why don’t you wear a wedding ring?” Simon asked, squinting up at her against the sun. “Aren’t you supposed to, you know, so everybody knows you can’t be their girlfriend?”

That probably was one purpose of wedding rings. And a good idea it was. Hailey stared at her ringless hand, searching for an answer. “Well…”

“Mick says his Mom says maybe you don’t like your husband anymore.”

“Simon! You know better than that. Apologize to your teacher.”

“No, it’s okay—it’s a natural question, I suppose.” Dammit. She’d never gotten around to getting a ring—and then she’d forgotten. She hadn’t imagined the eight-year-olds would gossip about it. She flexed her fingers and smiled at Simon. “My hands have swelled since I’ve been up here,” she lied. “My ring doesn’t fit anymore. It’s probably the climate changes.”

“So you still like your husband?”

“Uh, yes. I still like him. It’s just my fingers are so swollen…”

“No need to explain.” Jordan’s grin was enigmatic, but the frown aimed at his son was clear-cut. “That’s enough, Simon. Don’t be rude.”

She looked at him sideways, trying to decipher the look on his face. Did he suspect she was lying? It was impossible to tell from the bland look in his eyes.

“When does it start to snow?” Simon whined, staring up at the sky. His father rolled his eyes.

“Simon, do you honestly think we don’t get enough snow around here? Remember last year? We thought spring would never arrive.”

“I can’t wait for the snow! I want to go sledding, and skiing and ice skating…”

Jordan grinned at Hailey, a wry grin from one suffering snow-shoveling, ice-scraping adult to another, she supposed, but of course she’d never shoveled snow in her life. She was sort of looking forward to the experience, but if she said anything about that, it would probably have two identical jaws drop. One smooth—the other a bit bristly. How come she was now finding that sort of thing attractive? Must be something in the air.

“There will be time enough to play in the snow, Simon,” Jordan told his son. “I promise.”

“Maybe I’ve forgotten how to ski,” Simon complained, and his father ruffled his hair.

“Then you’ll have fun learning it again.”

Simon tore off again.

“Is he behaving in school?” Jordan asked. “He’s got so much energy…”

“Yeah, he’s fine.” Right, she reminded herself and stood up straight, folding her arms on her chest. This was her student’s father. It wasn’t professional to stare at his lips and wonder if he was a good kisser. “He’s not the quietest one in my class, I’ll admit, but he’s a good kid. Very bright and inquisitive, too.”

“Yes.” Jordan stared after his son, wistfulness in his face. “I wish I had more time with him. There’s so much of his life that I miss. Sometimes I don’t see him for as long as two weeks and it actually seems he’s grown since I last saw him.”

She made a sound of sympathy. “I know. That’s what happens with so many kids after a divorce. It’s inevitable, I suppose.”

“We’re not divorced,” Jordan said. “I was never married to his mother.”

“Oh.” She shook her head. “Sorry. He bears your name and everything—I just assumed.”

“Of course. Glad to hear you didn’t know. That must mean Simon isn’t teased about it in school.”

“Not at all—well, not that I’m aware of. Of course, teachers don’t see everything, but I don’t think anybody’s teased about being illegit…ah…well, nobody’s teased about things like that anymore. And his mother and stepfather came to Open Night, so he had two parents there…” She trailed off at the look on Jordan’s face. “Oops.”

Jordan swore under his breath. “Don’t get me wrong—I think it’s wonderful he has a good stepfather…. And I want them to be a complete family…. I try not to complain about it but sometimes it really feels like they’re trying to exclude me. It’s ‘better’ that I don’t attend this and that, it would just be confusing to Simon…”

“Nobody can replace you in Simon’s life.”

“His stepfather has been raising him since he was four years old.”

“You’re his father. Anyone can see he adores you! You should come to school functions too. A lot of kids have three or four parents there. If there’s anything today’s kids know all about, it’s the complexities of the post-nuclear family.”

“Post-nuclear family?”

“It’s a genuine scientific term,” she said defensively.

“If it’s anything like post-modernism, I don’t like it.”

She peered at him. He was joking. Right? Sometimes it was hard to tell if he was joking or not. She wasn’t used to interpreting these kinds of dry ironic remarks. “Well—post-nuclear is as good a description as any, I guess,” she said. “And you’re doing fine as a post-nuclear father. Don’t worry about Simon. He’ll be fine.”

Jordan chuckled. “Thanks for defending me, Hailey. His mother seems to think my dogs and the other animals are more an attraction for Simon than I am.”

Hailey pictured the petite dark-haired lady she’d met at school. She’d seemed nice. This was not nice. “She said that to you?”

“It sort of slipped out, she didn’t mean to be cruel.” He shrugged. “We have an okay relationship, no fights—but it’s obvious she wishes her husband was Simon’s father instead of me.”

“Has it been long since you two broke up?”

“Yeah. Cynthia didn’t realize she was pregnant until she was four months along. We’d split up a couple of months before.” He shrugged again. “She didn’t think there was any point in trying to work things out just for the sake of the child, and in retrospect she was probably right.”

“Don’t let her push you away from your son. Don’t let anybody do that.”

“No. I won’t.”

They were silent for a while, watching the child and the cat play. Both of them came running, as they did every few minutes, and this time Simon climbed up on the fence and boasted, “Daddy is coming to school next week!”

“Right, I heard something about that. You talk to the kids about animals. That’s already next week?”

“Yeah. It’s been going on for several years. The kids also visit my clinic once a year, in small groups.”

Next week! She’d thought she had more time. She wasn’t at all sure how she felt about Jordan invading her safe, neutral school environment. While she kept him on the other side of the fence—literally—things had been going fine. She really didn’t need him to invade her thoughts at work. “I see. Sounds like…” She had been about to say fun, but as Simon had wandered off again she changed it to reflect her true feelings. “Sounds like utter chaos! How do the animals react? They’re sick to begin with, aren’t they?”

“I wouldn’t do this if it traumatized or hurt the animals.” He seemed almost offended. “Only two or three kids go in at a time, and they receive a stern lecture beforehand on the dos and don’ts. We never have any problems. The kids know the consequence—no visit next year if they misbehave.”