Praise for the novels of
New York Times bestselling author
SHERRYL WOODS

“Sherry Woods writes emotionally satisfying novels…. Truly feel-great reads!”

—#1 New York Times bestselling author Debbie Macomber

“Compulsively readable…Though the serious issues raised are handled with honesty and integrity, Woods’s novel easily rises above hot-button topics to tell a universal tale of friendship’s redemptive power.”

— Publishers Weekly on Mending Fences

“Woods’s latest entry in her Sweet Magnolias series (after Stealing Home ) is sure to please fans and entice new readers with…flesh-and-blood characters, terrific dialogue and substantial stakes.”

— Publishers Weekly on A Slice of Heaven

“Sherryl Woods is a uniquely gifted writer whose deep understanding of human nature is woven into every page.”

— New York Times bestselling author Carla Neggers

“Redolent with Southern small-town atmosphere, this emotionally rich story deals with some serious issues and delivers on a number of levels.”

— Library Journal on A Slice of Heaven

“Sherryl Woods…writes with a very special warmth, wit, charm and intelligence.”

— New York Times bestselling author Heather Graham

“Sweetly satisfying, clever characters and snappy, realistic dialogue…a delightful read.”

— Publishers Weekly on About That Man

“Sherryl Woods gives her characters depth, intensity, and the right amount of humor.”

— Romantic Times BOOKreviews

Ask Anyone

NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLING AUTHOR

Sherryl Woods

www.mirabooks.co.uk

Dear Friend,

I’m so delighted that the TRINITY HARBOR series is back in print and that you’ve joined us for book two in the series. Trinity Harbor is a town where there are always unexpected things just around the corner, but none more so than what happens to Bobby Spencer in Ask Anyone.

Little does laid-back Bobby know that his life is about to be turned completely upside down by the arrival of Jenna Kennedy, a woman on a mission to prove to everyone that she no longer deserves the label of monumental screwup that has been pinned on her by her family.

Of course, with King Spencer as a father, Bobby knows a whole lot about trying to win parental respect, but his sympathy toward Jenna’s plight may not be enough for him to make the kind of major commitment she’s hoping for.

Once again, Anna-Louise Walton is around to lend a sympathetic ear and to provide the kind of moral guidance that you’d expect from a minister with a huge heart. And of course you’ll get to catch up with Daisy, Walker and Tommy, as well as with Tucker, whose compelling story, Along Came Trouble, is also available now.

So come home with me to Trinity Harbor once more. I promise some laughter, maybe even a few tears and, of course, some wonderful new friends to welcome into your heart.

All best,

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Epilogue

Prologue

H is son was making a spectacle of himself. Robert “King” Spencer had just hung up on the Trinity Harbor mayor, who was outraged not only by what was going on over at Bobby’s this morning, but by just about everything Bobby had done lately. He had a list, and King had been forced to listen to every fool thing on it.

“Fine people ought to be getting ready for church at this hour on a Sunday morning,” Harvey Needham had groused in conclusion. “Instead, they’re over at your son’s gawking like a bunch of tourists at an amusement park. This has to stop, King. The man’s out of control. And I’d like to know what you intend to do about it.”

“Not a blasted thing,” King had told him, and slammed down the phone.

He sighed heavily. It wasn’t as if this was the first time one of his children had stirred things up in Trinity Harbor. His daughter, Daisy, had almost given him a coronary when she’d insisted on letting that stray boy and his uncle into her life last year. The gossipmongers had had a field day, almost costing Daisy her teaching job in the process. Now, thank the Lord, she and Walker Ames were respectably married and Tommy was on good behavior, which meant it was time for King to turn his attention to his younger son and namesake.

Unfortunately, Bobby was proving to be as difficult to control as Daisy had been. King had almost laughed when Harvey had asked him to step in. As if Bobby would pay an iota of attention to anything his daddy had to say! He seemed to have the idea that he was too old to take advice from his father. So far, that hadn’t stopped King from offering it, but he was beginning to think he was wasting his breath.

What his son—both of his sons, for that matter—needed was a good woman in his life. King had been searching high and low for someone who fit his criteria, someone with a little spunk and a lot of class. So far the search had been in vain, but he hadn’t given up. Of course, once he succeeded in finding a likely candidate, there was no guarantee Bobby would cooperate. More likely the opposite.

The sad truth was that Bobby was stubborn as a mule. King had no idea where he got the trait, but it was a blasted nuisance. Any other man would get at least a token amount of respect from his namesake, but not King. When he tried to advise his son, Bobby merely regarded him with tolerant amusement, then went right out and did what he darn well pleased.

The rebellion had started ten years ago, when Bobby went away to college. King had expected him to take business management or maybe even animal husbandry, something that would serve him well when he took over their Black Angus cattle operation at Cedar Hill, the farm the family had owned for generations.

Instead, the doggone fool had gotten his heart broken by his childhood sweetheart, and in an act of pure spite toward his daddy had signed up for cooking classes. As if that weren’t bad enough, he’d topped it by dropping out his sophomore year and heading to France to take some fancy course in preparing gourmet food. When King had put his foot down and refused to pay for the trip, Bobby had gone out and earned the money himself. He’d worked at a fast-food joint over in Richmond for six months, putting every cent toward an airline ticket. King had never been so humiliated in his life…at least not until Bobby had come home with a diamond stud in one ear.

What kind of real man wanted to learn to cook? That was the question that stuck in King’s craw. Wasn’t that why they paid a housekeeper, so they’d never have to set foot in the kitchen except to raid the refrigerator? And if a man had to cook, what was wrong with a damned fine steak prepared on a grill or taking a wooden mallet to a pile of steamed crabs? That was the only kind of food preparation King wanted any part of.

Now Bobby owned the yacht center in town, spent his nights cooking in the club’s restaurant and devoted his daytime hours to trying to drive his daddy into an early grave by upsetting all the town fathers with his big ideas about developing the waterfront. If he had a specific plan in mind, Bobby hadn’t shared it with his father, but it must be a doozy if old Harvey was in such an uproar that he was trying to drag King into the middle of the fray.

Harvey didn’t like turning to King for anything. The fool liked to believe he was his own man, but when push came to shove, who did he ask for help? That’s right, King Spencer, the man whose family had settled Trinity Harbor way back when. Even Harvey was forced to admit that the Spencer name still counted for something in this part of Virginia.

Not that King didn’t relish a good fight from time to time. Nothing made him happier. He just hated having to publicly side with outsiders against a member of his own family.

He had two choices. He could head on over to Bobby’s and add his two cents to the commotion outside, or he could bide his time and say his piece over Sunday dinner. For once in his life, King opted for discretion.

Besides, he didn’t really want a lot of witnesses around when Bobby told him to mind his own damned business.

1

T here was a merry-go-round in his front yard. Okay, not a whole merry-go-round, just one lavishly carved, brightly painted carousel horse, but it was enough to make Bobby Spencer’s jaw drop. He hadn’t seen anything like it since a trip to the Santa Monica Pier years ago on one of the rare occasions when his father had deigned to leave his beloved Virginia.

That white-and-gold horse was also enough to have drawn most of the neighborhood kids out on a steamy Sunday morning to stare at it in fascination. The only thing that seemed to be keeping the curious youngsters from climbing onto that horse was the presence of a beefy uniformed security guard lounging in a rickety lawn chair about two feet away.

He had a merry-go-round horse and an armed man in his front yard. Bobby was pretty sure he’d awakened to stranger scenes in the past twenty-eight years, but he couldn’t remember when. It was almost enough to make him regret moving away from the family estate at Cedar Hill, where the nearest neighbor was half a mile down the road. Of course, then he would have had King to contend with, and that would have been much worse than this innocent little spectacle.

Only after he’d been standing there, slack-jawed, for a full minute, the morning paper absentmindedly clutched in one hand, did he realize that he was wearing nothing but a pair of boxers, and that any minute now, he was going to become part of the sideshow on his front lawn. Already Sue Kelly and Frannie Yarborough were ogling him with appreciative glances that Bobby might have found flattering if the two spinsters hadn’t been at least seventy and, even worse, the two biggest gossips on the block.

Just when he was about to dart inside to put on something halfway decent and maybe drink enough caffeine to come up with a way out of this crazy situation, a police cruiser rolled to a stop at the edge of the lawn. The county sheriff—his own brother—emerged grinning.

Tucker’s arrival was followed in short order by another cruiser. This time it was Bobby’s brother-in-law, Walker Ames, who got out, cast one look at the scene and, displaying even less restraint, burst out laughing. He and Tucker exchanged an amused look, then strolled toward Bobby, making a pretense of looking somber and official. If he’d been armed, Bobby would have shot ’em both on the spot. No jury on earth—or at least around these parts—would have convicted him.

“Where’s the cotton candy?” Tucker asked, barely containing another grin.

“Very funny,” Bobby snapped, in no mood for his brother’s wit.

“You got a permit for starting up a carnival in a residential area?” Tucker continued, clearly undaunted by Bobby’s sour attitude. “We’ve been overlooking Frannie’s fortune-telling, but this is a little harder to ignore.”

“You don’t have to enjoy this quite so much,” Bobby said.

Tucker’s grin spread. “Sure I do. Best time I’ve had all weekend.”

“So where’d it come from?” Walker asked, his fascinated gaze fixed on the horse with its prancing feet and bejeweled harness. Someone had taken great care with the restoration. It was in like-new condition.

Bobby’s scowl shifted to encompass his brother-in-law. “How should I know?”

“It is in your yard,” Tucker pointed out.

“So are you, but I sure as hell didn’t invite you,” Bobby retorted.

“Seems cranky,” Tucker observed to Walker.

“Downright irritable,” Walker agreed.

Bobby studiously ignored the ribbing. They’d tire of it eventually. Besides, if he was going to get to the bottom of this unexpected gift horse, he needed their help. They might be acting like idiots at the moment, but they both had halfway decent investigative skills, and the authority to go along with it. Without a jolt of coffee, he couldn’t even think.

“Maybe I should call Daddy and get him over here,” his brother said, his expression innocent. “He might have some ideas.”

Bobby frowned at Tucker, who could be an annoying son of a gun on his best days. “You do, and you’re a dead man. Leave Daddy out of this. Besides, I’m sure someone has called him already. People always love to report to King when one of us is causing a scene. Who called you, by the way? Never mind, let me guess. It was the mayor, right?”

Sadly, his nemesis lived just around the corner, close enough to keep an eye on everything that Bobby did. Not that Bobby was prone to wild parties or overnight guests in his restored Victorian house facing the Potomac River, but Harvey was always lurking around, probably hoping for something he could use against Bobby. Bobby had actually caught him outside with a ruler measuring the grass one day, checking to see if Bobby was in violation of the town’s overgrown-lot ordinance.

“Harvey did express some concern that you were desecrating the Sabbath, to say nothing of violating several zoning ordinances,” Tucker admitted. “Though he lacked confidence that I’d handle it with deliberate speed.”

“Which is why I’m here,” Walker explained. “Backup, in case your brother doesn’t follow the letter of the law about arresting the people responsible for public nuisances.”

“This is not my damned nuisance,” Bobby retorted. “Oh, forget it. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going inside to put my pants on before Sue and Frannie faint dead away over there.” The two women were fanning their flushed faces ineffectively, their gazes locked on him as if they hadn’t laid eyes on a partially clothed man in decades. The truth was, they probably hadn’t. He waved, clearly flustering them. He’d no doubt have tuna casseroles waiting on his front porch for the next week because of this. They seemed to think a man on his own was likely to starve, despite the fact that Bobby cooked for a living.

“What do you want me to do about this?” Tucker asked, looking none too eager to do a blessed thing.

“Make it go away, ” Bobby said emphatically. He gestured to encompass the entire scene. “All of it.”

“Don’t you even want to know how that horse got here?” Walker asked, clearly overcome with curiosity himself.

Walker probably wanted all the details to relate to Bobby’s sister, who was bound to have a million and one questions. In fact, Bobby was somewhat surprised Daisy hadn’t beat her husband over here.

Bobby was actually pretty sure he knew what the arrival of the horse was all about. Maybe not the specific person who’d sent it over, but that fancy carved horse was clearly part of someone’s bid to get his attention focused on a proposal for the boardwalk development he was planning. He’d had half a dozen unsolicited calls requesting appointments to make presentations since he’d announced a few weeks ago that he had signed the papers to buy the last parcel of riverfront land he needed. In his only public comment on the acquisition, Bobby had made the mistake of mentioning that he intended to get the project started this fall in the hope that it would be completed by the following summer. Eager developers had been crawling out of the woodwork ever since.

“I’ll leave it to you two crack lawmen to figure out who’s behind this. You have my permission to take the person responsible into custody for trespassing. And with all these other people crawling all over my lawn, that ought to help you meet your arrest quota for the month,” he said, throwing it out as an irresistible challenge. Tucker really hated being accused of having quotas of any kind. “Meantime, I’m getting dressed and making coffee. Join me once you’ve solved the mystery and gotten rid of this circus.”

Unfortunately, he had a suspicion that wasn’t going to be as easy as he’d made it sound. Just as well. He’d have plenty of time to whip up a fluffy omelette and some hash browns before the two of them made it inside. Something told him he was going to need a lot of sustenance to get through the rest of a day that had started out this badly.

Jenna Pennington Kennedy was a royal screwup. Ask anyone, especially her father, who was giving her one last chance to prove herself with this boardwalk-development proposal for Trinity Harbor, Virginia.

Okay, he hadn’t exactly given her the chance. She’d read about the prospect in the Baltimore newspaper and come after it on her own, without saying a single word to her domineering father or her brothers. They would have snatched the opportunity right out from under her, either by going after it themselves or simply by squelching her initiative with hoots of derisive laughter.

Unfortunately, though, her sneakiness seemed to have been for naught. The man she’d been told to contact—the one who owned the riverfront property and was looking to develop it—was steadfastly refusing to see her. His secretary claimed he wasn’t seeing anyone yet, but Jenna suspected it was because she was a female. In the development business, she ran across a lot of macho males who ignored anything a woman had to say unless it pertained to sex. Since sex had been nothing but trouble for Jenna, she had no intention of indulging again, at least not in the foreseeable future. Better to concentrate on things she understood, like riverfront development.

Whatever the real story was behind Bobby Spencer’s refusal to see her, this morning she had taken steps to snag his attention. She’d sent the man an extraordinarily rare carousel horse, part of an elaborate 1916 Allan Herschel carousel with a Wurlitzer organ that had cost her every penny of her savings and the entire trust fund her mother had left her. She’d considered it an investment in her future. Given the current state of the stock market, it probably wasn’t as risky a decision as it seemed.

If all else failed, she assumed she could auction off the carousel—currently under lock and key in a Maryland warehouse—and at least get her money back. If she succeeded, it would become the centerpiece of this project, and Bobby Spencer would pay handsomely for it.

Of course, in an attempt to prove to her father that she could be sensible when necessary, she had also sent along a guard to protect the expensive antique from the sticky fingers of curious kids and the remote possibility that a knowledgeable thief would try to make off with it.

The whole plan had been a stroke of genius, if she did say so herself. Too bad she’d had to keep it from her father. He might have been proud of her, for once.

Jenna sat in her car down the block and happily watched the crowd on Spencer’s lawn growing, despite the halfhearted attempts of two policemen to get it to disperse. Heck, if she’d thought to open a concession stand on the block, she could have sold enough lemonade on this hot July morning to pay the guard’s salary.

She’d give it another half hour, let Bobby Spencer begin to see what a draw an old carousel could be for the town, then she’d seize the moment to demand an appointment to make her complete presentation.

Despite years of being regarded as a second-class citizen in her own family’s company, Jenna had complete confidence in her design for the Trinity Harbor boardwalk. In her favor, she had an abiding nostalgia for all the old-fashioned beach towns she’d ever visited. People could get gaudy seaside entertainment in Ocean City. They could find more elaborate amusement parks just down the road from here at Kings Dominion or Busch Gardens. What a quaint little town like Trinity Harbor required was charm, and nobody understood charm better than a woman who’d spent her whole life with a bunch of men who were clueless on the subject.

But despite her self-confidence about the end result, Jenna resented the fact that she’d had to go to such an extreme just to put herself on Spencer’s radar. What kind of businessman ignored the overtures of an expert? His behavior didn’t bode well for their working relationship, but she was desperate. She’d work with the worst CEO in corporate history for this chance.

More dispiriting, though, than being dismissed by a stranger was having to jump through such elaborate hoops to prove to her father that she understood the business as well as he did and that she deserved to be more than decoration for the front office. If she’d been another son, he would have taken these things as a given. Dennis and Daniel had never had to prove themselves. They just showed up and made a pretense of working. As long as beachfront condos went up and didn’t fall down, her father was content. It annoyed the daylights out of Jenna that he never saw her brothers’ flaws—and never forgot hers.

Not that her father didn’t have more than ample reason to distrust her judgment, she conceded reluctantly, but he bore some of the responsibility for her disastrous elopement himself. Randall Pennington had been an overprotective single dad who’d never had the first inkling about how to raise a daughter. After Jenna’s mother had died, he’d settled on boarding school and tough love for his only daughter, while his sons had stayed at home under his watchful but indulgent eye.

As a result, Jenna had abandonment issues. She also had control issues. Big ones. She’d never had to consult a shrink to figure that out. A couple of episodes of Oprah had done it.

In an act of pure rebellion—and teenage lust—she had married the most irresponsible boy on God’s green earth. To this day, he hadn’t held a job more than the six months it took for boredom to set in. She shouldn’t have been surprised that his attention span for women was no longer.

But to an eighteen-year-old girl who’d lived a sheltered boarding school life, Nick Kennedy had seemed wild and sexy and dangerous. His ability to make her father see red just by walking in the door had been one of his primary attractions.

Nick had also been a helluva kisser, which had led to her second mistake in judgment. She’d gotten pregnant so fast, it must have set some kind of a record. Her only consolation was that it had been after the wedding ceremony, not before. Nick was already straying before their daughter’s birth, which had provided Jenna with her second dose of abandonment issues.

Now she had a precocious nine-year-old who was the spitting image of her daddy in looks and temperament. If Jenna had allowed it, Darcy would be pierced and tattooed in every conceivable spot on her plump little body. Jenna shuddered at the thought of what might happen the next time Darcy went to visit Nick, whom she could twist around her little pinky. Discipline and good sense were not among Nick’s strengths. And in recent years he’d been given a tab at his neighborhood tattoo parlor.

But the final nail in her coffin as far as her father was concerned had been her divorce. He didn’t believe in divorce. Not ever. Mistresses were just fine, apparently. It was an odd set of moral values, in Jenna’s opinion, but there it was. Leaving Nick was another black mark on her record with dear old Dad, even though he hated the guy. Another incomprehensible incongruity, to Jenna’s way of thinking. Trying to keep up with all of them gave her hives, but she did try.

She could have moved out of her father’s house—where a housekeeper was now looking after Darcy—and away from Baltimore, struggled to find some kind of work for which she was qualified and probably lived happily ever after, but Jenna was stubborn. She still craved her father’s approval and her rightful share of the company. Hoping for his love after all these years was probably a wasted effort, but she even harbored hopes of that, which was why she was still living under his roof and accepting the paltry, nonliving wage he used to keep her there.

She had worked for Pennington and Sons for the last seven years, ever since her quickie divorce in Reno. She was bound and determined to make her father regret that he’d only acknowledged the existence and contributions of her two worthless brothers in naming the business. She knew more, worked harder and had more vision than Dennis and Daniel combined, but all she got was a paycheck and the occasional patronizing pat on the head when she saved their sorry butts after they’d overlooked some little detail that could have cost the company a fortune. In fact, she was just about the only person in the firm who actually seemed to read and comprehend the fine print of their contracts.

This Trinity Harbor job was her chance to prove herself creatively, and no male chauvinist jerk was going to deprive her of it. If she had to take Darcy out of her current school come September and move down here so she could get in Bobby Spencer’s face 24/7 until he caved in and gave her the deal, then that’s what she’d do.

And after seeing him on his front lawn in his boxers, his body bronzed and his brown hair bleached by the sun, a rakish diamond glittering in his ear, the prospect promised to be a whole lot more entertaining than she’d envisioned when she’d driven away from Baltimore towing that antique horse in a trailer behind her beat-up Chevy.

She’d been thinking arrogant, crotchety old man, and, instead, she was going to be going toe to toe with a body—a man— so gorgeous he could make her forget her longstanding resolution not to even think about sex again until she hit menopause. Given her history of mistakes in judgment, her luck was not necessarily taking a turn for the better.

2

B obby stared at the fancy little gift card that Tucker had brought inside. The guard had apparently handed it to him.

“’There’s more where this came from,’” he read aloud, then looked at his brother. “What does that mean?”

“I think it means you’d better keep an eye on the front lawn or you’ll wind up with a whole amusement park out there,” Tucker said. “Won’t be any need to develop the boardwalk. You can just invite folks over here, put a few burgers on the grill and make a fortune without ever leaving the house. There won’t be another town in the entire state that can compete with that kind of down-home atmosphere. They’ll be writing this place up in Southern Living. ”

Bobby shot a sour look at him. “The card’s not signed,” he noted.

“I imagine that’s to keep you guessing,” Walker chimed in with another of those annoying grins.

“Looks to me like a woman’s handwriting,” Tucker added. “Thought I smelled a trace of perfume, too.”

“Is that the kind of top-notch investigative work the people of this county can expect from the sheriff?” Bobby inquired. “I could figure out that much.”

“Any time you want to sign up to be a deputy, let me know,” Tucker retorted.

Bobby scowled at him. “Didn’t the guard have any idea who’d hired him?”

“As a matter of fact, he did, but he wasn’t inclined to share it,” Tucker said, snatching Bobby’s cooling food from in front of him and shoveling it down.

“Hey,” Bobby protested, “what do you think you’re doing?”

“Having breakfast,” Tucker said blandly. “The mayor rousted me out of bed, and I’m starved. Besides, you weren’t eating it. This is the least you can do after spoiling my day off.”

“I’m not the one who called, and I was going to eat that myself,” Bobby countered.

Tucker shrugged. “It would have been too cold. Fix yourself something else. Last I heard you were a professional cook.”

“I’m a chef, dammit, and that’s not the point.” Bobby sighed heavily. “Aren’t the two of you on duty? Isn’t it your job to find the woman who sent this card?”

“Actually, I’m not officially on duty. As for the rest, sometimes the smartest, most efficient thing a cop can do is nothing. I’m thinking the woman behind all this will find you,” Tucker said. “Got any bacon? I’m in the mood for some nice, crisp bacon.”

“Fix it yourself,” Bobby said, then looked toward his brother-in-law. “Since my brother is more interested in filling his stomach than using his brain, what about you? Do you have any bright ideas about this?”

“Tucker’s right. If someone went to this much trouble, they’re going to show up to see how it turned out,” Walker said, then added, “Damn, I’m sorry Daisy’s missing this. Your sister would have to pick this weekend to take Tommy off to Williamsburg for an educational adventure.”

“Thank God for small favors,” Bobby grumbled. He’d forgotten about that trip. It was the only reason his sister wasn’t in the thick of things. “Having the two of you here is bad enough. I don’t need Daisy putting in her two cents. And Tommy’d be out there right now trying to charge people to take pictures. That boy has a true entrepreneurial spirit.”

Finally thinking of something to smile about, Bobby said to Walker, “By the way, I’ll bet you twenty bucks that those two haven’t done an educational thing since they got to Williamsburg—unless you consider riding the roller coaster at Busch Gardens to be some form of higher education.”

“That’s a sucker bet,” Walker said. “No question about it.”

Just then the doorbell rang. Bobby frowned and didn’t make a move to answer it. He’d had about as much unwanted company as he could take this morning.

“Well?” Tucker prodded when it rang again.

“Well, what?”

“Aren’t you going to answer it? Remember what I said, that mysterious woman is likely to come looking for you. That could be her. Your mystery could be solved right here and now.”

Bobby considered the possibilities. Tucker could be right. Or, more likely, it could be his father, urged to interfere by the mayor. It could even be some kid with a bunch of unanswerable questions. Or his buddy Richard, wanting some kind of a comment for this week’s edition of the Trinity Harbor paper to go with the pictures he’d no doubt snapped of the chaos outside. When news happened in Trinity Harbor, Richard’s journalistic instincts kicked in within seconds. He wouldn’t miss this.

Bobby wasn’t interested in dealing with any of them, not even the woman responsible for disrupting his peaceful Sunday morning.

“Nope,” he said, and poured himself another cup of special blend French roast coffee. He was beginning to feel almost human, and he wasn’t about to ruin it.

Whoever it was leaned on the doorbell.

“I can’t stand it,” Walker said finally. “I’ll get rid of them.”

Instead, five seconds later he returned to the kitchen looking vaguely bemused by a voluptuous redhead wearing a power suit and slinky three-inch spike heels. The dichotomy wasn’t lost on Bobby. Clearly the woman hadn’t gotten sidetracked on her way to church. She looked like a cross between a politician and a hooker.

When she teetered on those heels, he was forced to reconsider. He began to lean toward the image of a kid playing dress-up. There was something vulnerable in her eyes to back up that opinion. He really, really hoped this was not the woman responsible for that horse. He was a sucker for female vulnerability. His protective instincts rushed into action, overriding every defense mechanism he worked to keep in place.

“Nice job,” Bobby said to Walker, who merely shrugged over his inability—more likely, disinclination—to get rid of the interloper.

“You must be Bobby Spencer,” the woman said, offering her hand and a dazzling smile.

Bobby’s gaze narrowed. Reluctantly, he shook her outstretched hand. “I am.”

“I’m Jenna Kennedy of Pennington and Sons.”

“Nice to meet you,” Bobby said, recognizing the name of the Baltimore-based company that had been pestering him for a week now for an appointment. His secretary hadn’t been happy about his repeated refusal to talk to the woman. Maggie had thought she sounded sincere. Maggie was an annoyingly soft touch, which was why Bobby frequently wound up in meetings he didn’t want to have.

He forced a stern expression. “Sorry you wasted your time,” he told her. “But I don’t conduct business in my kitchen, especially not on a Sunday morning. Call my office.”

To her credit, she didn’t turn tail and run at the lack of welcome. “I would, but it’s the funniest thing. No one there seems to be able to give me an appointment without your say-so. Either you’re a control freak, you’re stonewalling me in particular for some reason or you’re just generally rude and bad at business.”

“Or maybe I’m just busy,” he said mildly, not liking her accusations one bit. Especially the one about rudeness, since it seemed to echo Maggie’s assessment. He prided himself on being a gentleman. Good manners was one of the things King had drilled into all his children, right along with respect for their Southern heritage.

Of course, the truth was, he had been stonewalling Jenna Kennedy. Though he hadn’t settled on a specific plan for his boardwalk project, he knew one thing for certain—he didn’t want to deal with a woman. Not that he had anything at all against women. His sister was one, after all. And some of his best friends were females. But ever since his childhood sweetheart had run off with his best friend, he hadn’t been inclined to get close to another woman. He had trust issues galore, according to Daisy.

Once burned, twice shy. That was the expression his sister used when she was scolding him about being skittish and telling him it was time to get over it and move on. She also added a lot of hogwash about his obsessive compulsion to take over the town being a bid to prove that he would have been the better choice for his old girlfriend. Like he really gave a rat’s behind what that traitorous female thought of him, especially after all these years.

“Not every woman you fall for is going to go running off with your best friend,” Daisy usually pointed out.

“Especially now that he’s already married to my former fiancée,” he generally retorted.

He frowned at Ms. Jenna Pennington Kennedy. “Look, I’m assuming that carousel horse was your idea.”

“It was,” she said.

“It was a nice touch, but I really don’t think this will work out,” he said.

“Why? You haven’t even heard our proposal.”

“It just won’t,” he said flatly. “Walker, could you show Ms. Kennedy out?”

Walker looked as if he wanted no part of this, but he dutifully said, “Ms. Kennedy,” and stepped back to give her room to pass. She didn’t budge.

In fact, she scowled first at Walker, then at Bobby, and planted her sexily shod feet a bit more firmly on the floor.

“Not just yet. Mr. Spencer, I don’t know what your problem is, but it’s my understanding that you want the kind of riverfront development that will put Trinity Harbor on the map. I can give you that.”

“Really?” Bobby said, not bothering to hide his skepticism. His attention kept drifting back to those shoes and her well-turned ankles. He almost missed the rest of what she had to say.

“You don’t want gaudy,” she said with impressive confidence. “You don’t want Ocean City. You want something that won’t overwhelm the size of the community, something with charm, some green space and a sense of the town’s history. Am I right?”

To Bobby’s deep regret, she had intuitively pushed all the right buttons. “Yes,” he conceded with a great deal of reluctance. “But if you understand that, why is there an antique horse on my front lawn disturbing the Sunday peace and quiet?”

“I had to get your attention,” she said reasonably. “I thought that would do it.” She grinned. “And it worked, didn’t it?”

Walker and Tucker were watching him expectantly. What the heck? he thought with a sigh of resignation. She was here. He had to start talking to prospective developers sometime. Besides, Ms. Jenna Pennington Kennedy was obviously the persistent type. She wasn’t going to go away until she’d said her piece. He could see her in the morning and have her out of town by noon.

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he told her. “In my office. Ten o’clock. If you’re late, I won’t be waiting.”

A dazzling, relieved smile that could fell a stronger man than Bobby spread across her face. “You won’t regret it,” she said, reaching for his hand and enthusiastically pumping it.

Bobby sighed as the seductive scent of her perfume wafted through the air. He already did.

King slid into his favorite booth at Earlene’s first thing on Monday morning. He’d almost stayed home today, but he wasn’t going to let a little thing like being publicly humiliated by his own son keep him from the pleasure of seeing his friends the way he did every single day of the year, rain or shine.

It was bad enough that Harvey had been the first one on the phone on Sunday, but the chatter had kept up all the livelong day. He hadn’t had a minute’s peace. Worse, first Bobby and then Tucker had called to cancel out on the family dinner. Neither one of them had stayed on the line long enough for him to get a straight word out of them about what was going on. He’d been left with enough fried chicken to feed an army and enough indigestion to keep him from touching a single piece of it. It was damned annoying. He looked forward to that chicken all week.

Which was why, the second dusk fell, he had driven past Bobby’s to see for himself what all the commotion was about. That merry-go-round horse that had gotten Harvey’s drawers in a knot was still sitting out there. Half the neighborhood kids were still hanging around gawking at it, too, along with what looked like a dozen carloads of adults. Since all the locals had probably been by right after the word spread at church that morning, these had to be out-of-towners drawn by word of the rare antique that had sprung up on his son’s front lawn.

To top it off, King had spotted Richard Walton snapping pictures for this week’s edition of The Trinity Harbor Weekly . He was accompanied by his wife, King’s very own pastor, Anna-Louise. Irritated, King had forgotten all about his intention to drive straight by without making his presence known. He’d pulled up to the curb and rolled down his window.

“Woman, don’t you have better things to be doing than poking around out here like a tourist?” he’d grumbled. “Why aren’t you over at the church, saving souls?”

Completely unintimidated, Anna-Louise had turned one of her placid smiles in his direction and strolled right on over to look him squarely in the eye. “Should have known you’d be skulking around here somewhere,” she commented. “Why don’t you park and walk on up to your son’s front door if you’re so curious about what’s going on? I’m sure Bobby would be happy to see you. He could probably use some moral support about now. I imagine it’s been a trying day.”

“I doubt he’d be interested in anything I have to say. He never is. Besides, do you honestly think I could get a straight answer out of him?” King had scoffed. “Not likely. He stayed away from Cedar Hill today, because he doesn’t want to tell me a blessed thing.”

“Richard interviewed him a few minutes ago. You’ll be able to read all about it later this week,” she said, looking smug. She knew perfectly well how King felt about that nosy husband of hers poking into things, especially things that had to do with the Spencer family.

“You know, Anna-Louise, for a woman as well-versed as you are in God’s word, you have a nasty habit of forgetting all about it when it suits you,” he’d charged.

She’d leveled a look at him that would have wilted a lesser man. “Oh?”

“Whatever happened to honoring thy father? Isn’t that one of the Ten Commandments?”

“It is,” she’d agreed.

“Well?”

“I’m not sure of the relevance,” she’d said, then reached into the car to pat the hand clenching the steering wheel. “King, I really don’t think this horse has anything to do with you. Believe it or not, it’s Bobby’s problem, not yours.”

“He’s my son, dammit. What he does reflects on me.”

“Oh, for goodness’ sakes,” Anna-Louise had snapped impatiently, “he’s not the one who put the horse here. In fact, from what he said to Richard, I gather that he’s every bit as anxious as you are to make it go away. Now either go inside to lend him your support or go on home and sulk.”

King had gone home to sulk. He’d spent the whole evening trying to figure out why everyone—himself included—was so stirred up. It was an awful lot of hoopla over one itty-bitty piece of a kid’s amusement-park ride. Anna-Louise was right about one thing. The whole situation would be over with and forgotten in no time. He just had to go about his business and ignore it.

Which was why he was in his regular booth at Earlene’s awaiting the arrival of his friends. A rousing conversation about the price of beef would get his juices stirring.

Pete Dexter was the first to arrive. “Oh, boy,” he murmured with a shake of his head as he slid in opposite King. “Bobby’s gone and stepped in it now.”

King regarded him with a lofty look. “I have no idea what you mean.”

“Harvey’s out for blood. He claims Bobby is trying to stage a coup and take over the whole blessed town.”

King gritted his teeth. So he wasn’t going to be able to ignore this after all. “Where would he get a numbskull idea like that? Bobby’s not interested in taking over anything. That boy doesn’t have a political bone in his body.”

“Then why did he go and buy up all that property? Whoever develops it is going to set the direction of Trinity Harbor for decades to come. And Harvey’s bound and determined that it’s not going to be your son. He says Spencers have been in charge for too long as it is, that it’s time for fresh blood to take this town into the future.”

King clung to his temper by a thread. “Just how does that pompous fool propose to stop Bobby?”

“The way I hear it, he’ll tie him up with zoning regulations and red tape until Bobby gives up and walks away from the whole deal. Then I imagine he’ll try to snap up that land for a pittance and do whatever he wants with it. You ask Will what he thinks when he gets here. I heard a rumor he sold a couple of parcels to the mayor a while back before Bobby could snap ’em up. My guess is Harvey would like to see condos all along the waterfront. Next thing you know, none of us will be able to stick a toe in that river without being charged with trespassing.”

King stared at his oldest friend. “Harvey told you this?”

“Not about the condos, that’s Will’s idea. But Harvey told a whole roomful of people about the rest at lunch yesterday. I was eating crabs over at Wilkerson’s at Colonial Beach. Harvey was holding forth like a preacher. He was talking so loud and his face was so red, I thought he was going to keel right over onto the seafood buffet.”

“Did you set him straight?” King asked.

“Me?” Pete looked baffled. “What was I supposed to say?”

“That no son of King Spencer’s would ever walk away from a fight, for starters,” King declared fiercely. He might not be entirely in tune with Bobby’s plans, but no upstart like Harvey Needham was going to sabotage them. “Did you tell him that?”

“No,” Pete admitted.

“Then you’re as big a damned fool as he is,” King said, sliding out of the booth and tossing some money on the table for the coffee he’d never touched.

“Now, King—” Pete began.

“Don’t you try to placate me, you old coot. I thought loyalty still counted for something in this town. Guess I was wrong.”

He stalked off to the sound of Pete’s sputters of protest and the hushed whispers of everyone else in Earlene’s. The way things were going, the entire conversation would be reported in The Weeky, right alongside that spread of pictures Richard had taken over at Bobby’s.

Once King got outside in the hot, muggy morning air, he sucked in a deep breath and tried to calm himself down. He was going to kill that boy of his with his bare hands. He didn’t have time to waste an entire morning on this kind of nonsense. He needed to get home. Somebody had to run that Black Angus operation that his sons didn’t give a hoot about.

But first, maybe he’d go on over to the Social Services office and see if Frances could spare him a little time. The woman had been driving him up the wall since she’d stolen first place in a spelling bee from him a half-century ago, but she had a level head on her shoulders. In the last year, he’d begun to count on that.

Frances had kept him from strangling Daisy and given him some sound advice and pleasant company along the way. Maybe if he offered to take her out to play bingo tomorrow night, she’d keep his mind off of Bobby until his temper cooled down. The last place King wanted to spend his golden years was a jail cell. And Tucker would slap him in one, no question about it. He didn’t bend the rules for anybody.

When King arrived at Social Services, Frances was on the phone. The blessed woman was always on the phone, but he’d finally learned better than to try to interrupt her. She got downright feisty. He sat down and waited with what to him passed for patience. Fortunately, Frances didn’t test him beyond his limits.

“I imagine you’re here to talk about Bobby,” she said with a resigned expression when she’d finally hung up.

“You heard,” he said bleakly.

“Not only heard, I went by there yesterday. It was quite a scene.” A wistful look passed across her face. “Seeing that carousel horse took me straight back to when we were kids. Remember? We used to have a carousel right here in town. And a skating rink, miniature golf and bingo on the boardwalk. I wish we could have all that back again. Kids need to know there’s more to life than video games and computers.”

King had a dim recollection of those days, but bingo and an old carousel were the least of his concerns. He sighed and regarded Frances with a plaintive look. “What am I supposed to do about all this nonsense Bobby’s mixed up in?”

“Nothing,” she said emphatically. “I know that goes against your nature, but Bobby can handle whatever’s going on. Besides, I don’t know what you’re so upset about. I thought you’d be pleased as punch.”

King stared at her. “Pleased? Why the devil would I be pleased?”

“Because the way I hear it, the woman responsible for that horse turning up on Bobby’s lawn is gorgeous and single. She’s from a good family. Of course, she’s from Maryland, not Virginia, but you can’t afford to be picky if you want him to start providing you with some grandchildren to dote on. On top of that, she’s already proved that she knows how to get Bobby’s attention.”

That certainly put a new spin on things, King decided thoughtfully. “Gorgeous, you say?”

“Yep, and a redhead,” Frances confirmed. “I ran into Tucker later in the day and he said Bobby’s tongue was just about hanging out. He also said Bobby would probably deny that with his dying breath.”

King’s spirits brightened considerably. “Is that so?” An idea popped into his head, one that required immediate action. He jumped up and headed for the door.

“What’s your hurry?” Frances asked. “You heading back to Earlene’s?”

“No time,” King said. “I’ve got something more important to take care of.” He whirled around, went back and planted a solid kiss on Frances’s mouth. “Thanks.”

Cheeks pink, she regarded him with a startled expression. “What did I do?”

“Same as always,” he said with a grin. “Put things in perspective.”

She laughed. “Glad to help, though I have a feeling Bobby might not see it that way. Am I right?”

King gave her a bland look. “Frances, I think you’re a treasure. Remember that.”

“I’ll remind you of it,” she said.

She would, too. Over and over. But that was okay, King thought, as he rushed out of her office feeling more upbeat than he had in months.

Let Harvey Needham rant and rave. Let Bobby try to keep him in the dark. King had a plan. Nobody could get the better of a man with a solid plan and the determination to implement it.

3

T he God-blessed car was out of gas. Jenna pounded the steering wheel in frustration. Naturally, to make matters worse, her cell phone was dead. She’d used up the battery the night before trying to convince her daughter that it was absolutely not okay, much less necessary, for her to dye her hair purple. Darcy had cried and pleaded and accused Jenna of ruining her life. If Darcy was this difficult at nine, what would she be like when she hit her teens? At any rate, Jenna had been so exhausted by the long-distance battle that she hadn’t thought to recharge the phone.

It was 9:52 a.m. She had exactly eight minutes to get to the yacht center. In her running shoes she might have been able to do it. In three-inch spike heels, she didn’t have a prayer.

Maybe Bobby Spencer wasn’t quite as much of a tight-ass as he’d seemed yesterday. Maybe she could be a few minutes late and still catch him.

Yeah, right. The man had looked at her as if he’d rather be dealing with the devil. He’d obviously seize any excuse at all not to consider the Pennington and Sons proposal.

She stripped off her shoes, thanked heaven that her skirt had a slit in it and grabbed her briefcase off the seat. She hit the sidewalk at a dead run, grateful that she’d taken up jogging as a way to relieve stress.

Pounding along the pavement, praying that she’d gotten through to Darcy, praying even harder that she would not miss this appointment and blow her one and only chance to earn a little respect from her father, she concluded that this particular run was not likely to reduce her stress one iota. If anything, she was getting more anxious with every painful step she took.

Seven minutes and thirty seconds later, she reached the yacht center. She had runs in her hose, blisters on her feet and her hair no doubt looked as if it had been styled in a wind tunnel, but she was on time.

Bobby Spencer, however, was nowhere in sight and not even expected.

Jenna stared at the secretary. “He’s not here,” she repeated incredulously, certain she had to have misunderstood.

“Never gets in before eleven,” the young woman said, clearly working to contain her curiosity over Jenna’s disheveled appearance.

The woman’s own attire consisted of shorts that showed off her long legs and a crisply pressed blouse with one too many buttons left open to display an ample amount of cleavage. Obviously Bobby did not stress professional decorum, or maybe at a yacht center, this was the appropriate uniform, Jenna concluded. She was probably the one who was seriously overdressed…or had been when she’d left her car, anyway.

“Never?” she echoed, still certain that she had to be missing something.

“Not once in the year I’ve worked for him,” the woman said. “Are you sure he said to be here at ten?”

“Oh, I am very sure he said ten,” Jenna said, gritting her teeth. Her temper, which she usually worked really, really hard to contain, began to simmer. “Are you saying there has never been one single occasion when he’s been here before eleven?”

“Not that I can recall,” the woman said blithely. “He works late at night. Besides, he’s just not a morning person. Believe me, you don’t want to see him at this hour. In fact, if you’d like a little advice, I’d suggest you come back around two. He’s pretty cheerful by then, especially if the reservations are up for dinner.”

“Look…what’s your name?”

“Maggie.”

“Okay, Maggie, here’s the thing. I saw Mr. Spencer yesterday. He told me to be here at ten. He made a really big deal about it. My car broke down, but I busted my butt to be on time. Could you get on that phone and track him down and tell him that I’m here and getting more aggravated by the minute that he’s not?”

Maggie grinned. “You really want me to tell him that?”

Jenna sighed. “Okay, you can leave out the part about my attitude. Just try to hurry him along. I need to get back to Baltimore. I hadn’t intended to stay overnight in the first place.” In fact, she’d planned to be sitting cheerfully at her desk this morning with a contract in hand. Obviously she’d been overly optimistic about her powers of persuasion.

“Maybe you could think of this little delay as a blessing in disguise,” Maggie suggested. Then she added tactfully, “You know, and use the time to kind of put yourself back together. Not that appearances are everything, but you look kinda like you tangled with a wrestler or something. I’ve got a sewing kit right here I could loan you.”

Jenna stared at her blankly. “A sewing kit?”

“Your skirt,” Maggie said, then gestured. “And your jacket.”

Jenna looked down. The slit in her skirt now extended almost to the waistband. Any movement, she concluded with a horrified stare, revealed way too much of her lower anatomy. Two buttons on her jacket were hanging by threads, which left a gaping space across her chest featuring an even more ample display of skin and lace than Maggie herself was sharing with the world. No wonder she’d encountered a series of astounded stares and heard several cars skid to a stop en route to the yacht center. She was lucky that brother of Bobby’s hadn’t come along to arrest her for indecent exposure.

“Oh, God,” she murmured, collapsing into a chair with a heartfelt moan.

“Now don’t get upset,” Maggie said, bouncing up at once. She was as refreshingly eager as an accommodating kid as she rummaged in her desk. “Here’s the sewing kit.” She glanced worriedly from the array of tiny spools of thread to Jenna’s outfit, then grabbed the stapler. “Come with me. We’ll have you fixed up in no time. It might not be pretty, but you will be decent.”

“What if the phone starts ringing or Mr. Spencer comes while you’re away from your desk?” Jenna said as she dragged herself out of the chair.

“Nobody important calls in the morning,” Maggie assured her. “They all know how Bobby is. And you don’t need to worry about him, either. He’s a sweetie once he’s had his coffee. You should see him. It’s like this ritual the way he grinds the beans, then hovers over it as it brews. It’s a little compulsive, if you ask me, but the coffee is way better than the instant kind I make at home. Anyway, once he’s had his first cup, he’s a doll.”

“Really?” Jenna regarded her skeptically as Maggie led the way into a nearby bathroom. Jenna stripped off her skirt and jacket and they went to work with needle, thread and stapler.

“Oh, sure. Everyone knows that,” Maggie said. “Everybody in town loves Bobby. Well, except for the mayor, but he thinks Bobby is a threat to his power. As if Bobby would ever want that job. He has all the power he needs just being a Spencer. Did you know that his ancestors founded this town? They came over from Jamestown. Not that Bobby flaunts that. I think it embarrasses him when I tell people, but I think it’s just so cool. People should know, don’t you think?”

“You admire him?” Jenna concluded.

“What’s not to admire? He’s nice. He’s gorgeous. He works hard. He’s from a great family.”

Since Maggie was a young, attractive woman with no wedding band on her finger, Jenna asked, “Are you more than his secretary?”

“You mean like a one-woman cheerleading squad or something?” Maggie asked, then paled. “Or do you mean is there something going on romantically between us? Good grief, no.” She paused to consider the idea. “He’s kind of sexy, I suppose. That earring makes him look like a pirate. But he’s way older than me.”

“He can’t be more than thirty,” Jenna pointed out.

“Twenty-eight, actually, but I’m only nineteen, and I’m not going to get seriously involved with anyone for years and years—and then it won’t be with Bobby Spencer.”

More curious than she ought to be, Jenna asked, “Why not, especially if he’s such a paragon?”

“Because we’re friends,” Maggie said simply. “He treats me like a kid sister. Heck, he used to baby-sit my brother and me.”

“And you’ve never had a crush on him? Not even a little one?”

“No way,” Maggie claimed emphatically. “He’s really nice, if you know what I mean. I want a man with more of an edge. A guy who’s a little dangerous.” Her expression turned dreamy.

“Trust me, dangerous is highly overrated,” Jenna told her. “Nice is a better alternative.”

Maggie’s gaze narrowed and her expression turned thoughtful. “So, what do you think of Bobby? I heard about the commotion at his house yesterday. I would have given anything to be there to see his face.”

“Actually, he looked a little ticked,” Jenna confided as Maggie stitched and stapled her skirt back together, while Jenna herself worked on the buttons on her jacket. The designer suit looked as if it had been pieced together by drunken elves.

Maggie’s expression brightened at Jenna’s description of Bobby’s reaction. “To tell you the truth, that’s a good thing,” she declared. “We’ve all been saying for a long time now that somebody needs to come along and shake up that man’s life. He’s in a rut, emotionally speaking, that is. Not that he listens to me. He just rolls his eyes and walks away as if a kid my age couldn’t possibly have anything intelligent to say about love.”

Jenna didn’t give two figs what kind of rut the man was in. She wanted to sell him on this proposal and get out of town with a signed contract in hand. She had to get back to Baltimore before Darcy defied her and dyed her hair purple. Even if Darcy used something temporary, like a powdered-grape-drink mix, it would be enough to send her grandfather’s blood pressure soaring.

“Maggie, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Why has your boss been refusing to take my calls? Is it because I’m a woman?”

Maggie looked genuinely astonished by the question. “Why would you think that?”

“It’s just the way some men in business are,” Jenna said, thinking of her father.

“Not Bobby,” Maggie assured her. “It’s just what I’ve told you on the phone. He’s not talking to anybody about the boardwalk yet. Bobby likes to mull things over before he acts. He doesn’t rush into anything. Some of that’s Southern. Some of it’s just Bobby being Bobby. Don’t take it personally. He’s refused to talk to any of the men who’ve called, too.”

Jenna accepted the explanation at face value. “You’ve been a godsend,” she told the young woman as she straightened her skirt, shrugged into her jacket and tried to adjust it. They weren’t perfect, but they would do. “Thank you. I couldn’t have gotten myself put back together without you.”

For the first time, as she started to button up the jacket, she risked a look in the mirror. Her cheeks were still flushed. Her hair, which had started the day in a nice, neat French twist, was hanging down around her shoulders in a tangle of untamed curls.

Of course, that image reflected back at her wasn’t nearly as disconcerting as the image of Bobby Spencer’s stunned expression right next to it.

A half-dressed Jenna Kennedy was standing in his private bathroom. Bobby reluctantly dragged his gaze from full breasts barely covered with scraps of lace to her startled face.

“Seen enough?” she snapped.

He blinked. “Sorry,” he said, then shut the door. “Maggie, get out here!”

His secretary emerged from the bathroom. “What the hell is going on?” he demanded.

“Long story, boss. Jenna will be out in a minute. She can explain. I’ve got work to do.”

He shook his head. “Oh, no, you don’t. Get back here. Since when are you anxious to get to work?”

“Since five seconds ago,” she said with an unrepentant grin. “Go easy on her. She’s had a rough morning.”

Bobby sighed. “I’m not in the habit of terrorizing people.”

“You know that and I know that,” Maggie agreed. “She doesn’t seem to be so sure. Why is that?”

Bobby had no intention of going down that particular road, not with a female who’d long since declared her intention to find him a woman. Between Maggie and his father, his personal life was doomed. He sure as heck didn’t want either of them getting the idea of dragging Jenna Pennington Kennedy into it.

“Never mind,” he said. “Go to work.”

“I made coffee,” she said, looking pleased with herself. “Just in case you didn’t have time, what with your early meeting and all. It’s instant, but it’s better than nothing.”

Bobby shuddered. “No, it’s not. From now on, leave the coffee brewing to me. Yours tastes like axle grease.”

He walked through the yacht center to the restaurant kitchen, prepared a decent pot of coffee, poured two cups, then took them back to his office and sat behind his desk. Jenna still hadn’t emerged from his bathroom. He alternately checked his watch and gazed warily at the door as if a restless tiger might be lurking behind it. Finally the knob turned and his pulse kicked up a notch. He deliberately attributed it to annoyance at her tardiness, because anything else was unacceptable.

“You’re late,” he said, just to emphasize his displeasure.

Those bright patches of color in her cheeks deepened. “No,” she said, just as emphatically. “I was right on time. Imagine my surprise when I was told that you never come in before eleven. If I’d known that, I could have found a better way to get here than running all the way.”

He stared. “You ran? Why?”

“My car ran out of gas. Because you made such a big deal about me being on time, I got out, took off my shoes, hiked up my skirt and ran, which is why you found me in your bathroom looking like a complete wreck, and that was after Maggie and I had repaired most of the damage.”

“I see.” A dozen questions came to mind, along with quite a few disconcerting images. He would have paid money to see her crosstown race to get here. In fact, he was surprised he hadn’t heard about it from someone by now. Then again, maybe that explained a couple of the fender benders he’d spotted along a normally quiet road.

She eyed him warily. “That’s all you have to say? I see? ”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “You could have called and explained.”

She shook her head. “My cell phone was dead.” As if she realized she was making a less than stellar impression, she drew in a deep breath and said, “Maybe we should just forget all this and get straight to my ideas for your boardwalk development. This is just preliminary, of course, to make sure we’re on the same wavelength. It can be adjusted and it will have to be fleshed out with architectural renderings.”

Bobby sighed. This was what they were here for, though he was no more enthusiastic now than he’d been the day before. “Sure. Why not?” Listening didn’t mean he had to agree to anything.

But as Jenna talked about a park setting, about family-style attractions, about picnics and concerts and sidewalk cafés that would become gathering places for a community, he began to see a revitalized area along the riverfront that would be absolutely perfect for Trinity Harbor. Not overwhelming, not unmanageable, but ideally suited for the small town atmosphere he wanted to preserve, even while contributing to the area’s economic growth.

“I assume the centerpiece would be an antique carousel,” he said.

She blinked as if he’d pulled the idea out of thin air. “How did you know?”

He chuckled at her pretense of amazement. “I might not be the professional cop that my brother is, but that horse you sent was a definite clue.”

“Isn’t he the most amazing thing?” she said, her eyes lighting up. “You have no idea what I had to go through to find that particular carousel. It’s very rare.”

“I’m sure,” he said. “Thank heavens, though, you got it out of my front yard.”

Her mouth dropped open, and she looked as if he’d just revealed that the blasted thing had been kidnapped.

“It’s gone?” she whispered in a shocked tone.

“Since a couple of hours ago,” he said, watching worriedly as her skin turned pale. “You had it picked up, didn’t you?”

She shook her head. “What happened to the overnight guard? My arrangement was that he would stay right there with it until his replacement came this morning.”

“I have no idea. He was gone by the time I left the house.” He studied her stricken expression. “Are you telling me that someone stole that horse?”

Jenna nodded.

Bobby couldn’t believe it. Who would steal a carousel horse? He turned on her suspiciously. “Is this some sort of scam? Or a publicity stunt? I am not paying for that horse. It was your bright idea that it was down here in the first place. I was never responsible for keeping it secure.”

“I know.” She buried her face in her hands. “Oh, God,” she murmured. “My father is right. I am the world’s worst screwup. That horse is worth a fortune. And the rest of the carousel won’t be worth all that much without it. What was I thinking? I should have known something awful would happen. It always does. How am I ever supposed to convince my father that I can handle anything important when I keep messing up the simplest things?”

Her plaintive tone struck a responsive note somewhere deep inside Bobby. He knew a whole lot about judgmental fathers. “Insurance?” he suggested hopefully.

She shook her head. “The guard was cheaper. I used every last penny of my savings to buy that carousel and hire the security company to watch over the horse for a couple of days. Even if they’re liable, it will take forever to get paid.”

Bobby reached for the phone. “I’ll get Tucker over here,” he said grimly. He wanted that antique carousel horse found and found fast, because the protective feelings that Jenna Kennedy stirred in him had trouble written all over them.

While they waited for Tucker, Bobby brought Jenna a glass of brandy. It was early in the day, but she looked as if she might go into shock at any second. He did not want her fainting on him. If she did, he’d have to touch her, and he knew exactly how dangerous that could be.

“Drink it,” he ordered.

She eyed the glass warily. “What is it?”

“Brandy.”

“No, thanks. I have to drive.”

“If that horse is missing, you’re not going anywhere till it’s found, am I right?”

She sighed and reached for the glass. She took one sip and choked on it. “I really don’t think I’m the brandy type,” she said. “Is there any root beer around?”

It was Bobby’s turn to sigh. “I’ll get it.”

He was on his way back to his office when Tucker arrived, sirens blaring and lights flashing.

“Announce to the world that I’m in the middle of another scene, why don’t you?” Bobby grumbled.

“You wanted me here in a hurry, didn’t you?”

“Not half as much as I want the woman in there gone,” Bobby told his brother.

“So send her home,” Tucker said, as if it were a simple matter.

“I would, but there’s the issue of the missing horse.”

Tucker’s lips twitched. “The carousel horse?”

“That’s the one,” Bobby confirmed. “Gone. Apparently stolen out of my front yard this morning.”

Tucker glanced toward Bobby’s office. “Think she had anything to do with it?”

“The exact same thought crossed my mind,” Bobby admitted. “But no. I saw her face when I told her it was gone. Nobody’s that good an actress.”

“How much is that thing worth?”

“I’m guessing not much without the carousel,” Bobby said. “But then the rest of the merry-go-round isn’t worth a heck of a lot without the missing horse, either. Even if she found a replacement, it would be a miracle if it were a perfect match.”

“It’s quite a dilemma, isn’t it?” Tucker said. His expression brightened. “Maybe someone will call and demand a ransom.”

“Your wait-and-see attitude toward crime is beginning to get on my nerves,” Bobby told him. “Don’t try it with Jenna. She’s in a fragile state.”

His brother looked fascinated by that revelation. “Is that so? And that’s a concern of yours because…?”

“Because I want that woman and that horse out of town and out of my life,” he said. “I can’t believe that twenty-four hours ago I had exactly the kind of peaceful existence I like.”

“You were in a rut,” Tucker countered. “This is good for you.”

Bobby scowled and stalked right past him. He was not going to get into a debate about his low-key lifestyle choice with his brother, not when they had a crisis to resolve.

“Tucker’s here,” he announced as he walked into his office.

Jenna looked up at him with bright eyes shimmering with unshed tears. His heart did an unexpected flip-flop. Probably some sort of fibrillation, he concluded hopefully. He did not want that sensation to be in any way connected to Jenna Pennington Kennedy or her problems or those huge, vulnerable green eyes of hers.

“Thank you for coming, Sheriff,” she said politely to Tucker.

“No problem,” Tucker assured her. “Why don’t you tell me what you know?”

“I don’t really know anything,” she said, regarding him miserably. “I didn’t even know the horse was gone, till Bobby told me just now. I’d paid the security company to keep a guard with it till I picked it up on my way back to Baltimore.”

“What’s the name of the company?” Tucker asked.

Jenna told him. “They’re based in Richmond. They’re very reputable. I made sure of that. My father always expects the worst of me, so I was trying very hard to do this right.”

Tucker pointed toward the phone on Bobby’s desk. “May I?”

“By all means,” Bobby said.

His brother called information, got the number for the security company, then called and asked for the owner.

“Mr. Kendrick, this is Sheriff Spencer over in Westmoreland County. I understand you were supplying security for Pennington and Sons at a private home over here.”

Bobby watched Jenna as she listened to Tucker’s end of the conversation. She looked increasingly dejected as Tucker nodded, jotted a few notes and murmured quite a few completely unintelligible replies.

“I see,” he said at last. “Thanks for your time. I’ll be in touch.”

He hung up the phone slowly, then glanced at Jenna, his expression unreadable.

“What?” she said. “What did he say?”

“That the guard who was supposed to be on duty this morning just got back to Richmond and left on vacation.”

Bobby stared at his brother. “What the hell does that mean? Was it sudden?”

“Nope. He’d scheduled it weeks ago. But it could be he stole the horse himself and is anticipating a big payday,” Tucker suggested. “Or somebody else has already paid him off to disappear. How much is that horse worth, anyway?”

Jenna named a staggering amount, her voice barely above a whisper. “The carousel is very rare,” she added.

“No kidding,” Bobby said dryly. “What the devil were you thinking?” Jenna’s face crumpled, and tears slid down her pale cheeks. He felt like he’d just kicked a kitten. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

“Of course you did,” she said, her expression bleak. “Why shouldn’t you say it? My father certainly will.”

“Which is precisely why I shouldn’t have,” Bobby said. “Believe me, I’ve been in your shoes more times than I care to count.”

“He has,” Tucker confirmed. “When it comes to sensitivity, King Spencer missed the classes.”

Jenna heaved a sigh. “My father didn’t even know there were classes.”

Ignoring his better judgment, Bobby gave her shoulder a sympathetic squeeze. “Don’t worry. Tucker will track down that security guard and figure out what’s going on.”

“I don’t have time to wait for that,” Jenna said. “I have to get home. I have a daughter who wants to dye her hair purple.”

Bobby held up his hands. “I don’t even want to know about that one. You go on home. Keep the dye away from your daughter. Tucker will be in touch.”

She shook her head. “This is my mess.”

“Ms. Kennedy, I appreciate your willingness to take responsibility for your actions, but this is not your mess,” Tucker assured her. “That horse was stolen here in Trinity Harbor. Now it’s my mess.”

For the first time all day, Bobby managed a grin. “It is, isn’t it? Daddy’s going to love hearing about a major theft taking place in broad daylight on the supposedly safe streets of Trinity Harbor.” He held out his hand to Jenna. “Come on. Let’s go to lunch. Maybe by the time we’ve had dessert, Tucker here will have figured out who the bad guy is.”

Tucker frowned at him. “You’re giving me an hour to solve this?”

Bobby nodded. “And then I’m going to King and put him in charge. You know how Daddy likes to show you up. I’m pretty sure there was a time in his life when he wanted to be Wyatt Earp.”

Jenna laughed, exactly as Bobby had intended. He gave her hand a squeeze. “We don’t have a lot of crime here. A big-time thief won’t get far without some nosy person asking a lot of questions. Everything will be all right.”

It had to be, because with her hand tucked into his, he was just starting to realize that he was in very deep water.

4

H arvey Needham was a bona fide, first-class idiot. He’d been the mayor of Trinity Harbor for two terms now, and he still knew next to nothing about managing a town. Oh, he kept the garbage pickups running on schedule and managed to keep the budget in the black, but he was not exactly a visionary, which made him a major thorn in Bobby’s side.

If it had been up to Harvey, there would have been condominiums slapped up on every square inch of waterfront property and the public wouldn’t set foot in the Potomac River ever again.

His arrival in Bobby’s office just as the chaos over the stolen carousel horse was settling down couldn’t have been worse timing. He took in Tucker’s presence, and a gleam of satisfaction lit his beady little eyes.

“Trouble?” he inquired in a deceptively pleasant tone.

“Already handled,” Tucker assured him.

“Good to know the sheriff’s office has things under control,” Harvey said. “Mind telling me what it’s all about?”

“Yes,” Bobby said curtly, dragging Jenna toward the door in the faint hope of making an escape before the mayor went off on some tirade.

Harvey blocked his path. “I am the mayor of this town,” he said with a huff.

“Something all of us are trying valiantly to deal with,” Bobby retorted. Tucker shot him a warning look.

“Now, listen here, young man. If there is crime running rampant in Trinity Harbor—” Harvey blustered. He was about to continue, when Jenna turned on one of her megawatt smiles and stepped in front of him.

“Mayor Needham, I am so delighted to meet you,” she said, holding out her hand. “I’m Jenna Kennedy.”

Harvey might be an idiot, but he thought of himself as a ladies’ man and a Southern gentleman, despite the fact that he’d been born in upstate New York. While Bobby gritted his teeth, the mayor clasped Jenna’s hand in his and beamed his best politician’s smile.

“I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure,” he said. “Harvey Needham, Ms. Kennedy. Welcome to the town of Trinity Harbor. What brings you here?” It appeared all thoughts of crime had been temporarily forgotten.

“Just getting acquainted with the area,” she said with a quick, reassuring glance at Bobby.

Relief flooded through him at her immediate grasp of the situation.

“Perhaps you’d like to have a cup of coffee and tell me all about Trinity Harbor,” she suggested, linking her arm through the mayor’s. Her Southern drawl, not the least bit pronounced up until now, was suddenly thicker than honey.

Turning her back on the mayor, she winked at Bobby. “I know you’re closed today but can we make that happen?”

“Absolutely,” Bobby said at once, leading the two of them to a table in the empty yacht center restaurant and getting them their coffee from the pot he’d brewed earlier. “Just don’t let Mr. Needham keep you too long, Jenna. You and I have lunch plans, remember?”

“Of course. The mayor and I won’t be long, though I’m sure he has loads and loads of insights to share.”

“I do, indeed, Ms. Kennedy,” Harvey said with a triumphant look at Bobby.

Shaking his head at the incongruous pair, Bobby walked off and left them alone. He joined Tucker back in his office.

“That was the most amazing display of phony charm I’ve ever seen,” he noted to his brother.

“His or hers?” Tucker asked.

“Both. That female is dangerous,” he said, just to remind himself of that fact. For a minute there he’d allowed himself to be impressed by her skillful maneuvering.

Tucker grinned. “Spoken like a man whose hormones have just come out of retirement.”

“Go to hell.”

“Based on the events of the past two days, seems to me like I might be there already,” Tucker said. “What do you make of this stolen horse business?”

“Me?” Bobby protested. “It’s your job to figure it out.”

“That business with the guard taking his vacation reeks of a payoff,” Tucker said, his expression thoughtful. “Are you sure Jenna couldn’t have arranged the theft to garner a little extra publicity? Maybe turned on the waterworks to get your sympathy? Could be the whole thing is a clever business tactic.”

“Not a chance,” Bobby said with conviction. “She was too upset about it. Besides that, I don’t think she has much of a track record at sneaky business tactics. Now if you were to suggest that Harvey had something to do with it, that I could believe. You talked to him yesterday. You know how badly he wanted that horse gone. You would have thought it had been sent by the Trojans to wreak havoc on the town.”

Tucker bit back a grin. “Yeah, well, Harvey’s an idiot, which pretty much rules out his ability to mastermind a theft in plain sight.”

“Check his garage, just the same,” Bobby suggested. “And, Tucker…”

“What?”

“Do it fast. I’m serious—I want that woman out of town.”

A knowing expression spread across his brother’s face. “Oh, really? You mean before Daddy gets an eyeful and decides she’s a perfect candidate for his latest plot to marry you off?”

Bobby winced at Tucker’s quick grasp of one aspect of the problem. “Yes, there is that.”

In fact, in his gut he knew that the very last thing he wanted was for King and Jenna ever to cross paths. He could say goodbye to his placid existence if that should happen. Ever since Daisy and Walker’s wedding, King had been keeping a close eye on Bobby’s social life, asking too many questions, dropping too many less-than-subtle hints about every single female in a twenty-mile radius of Trinity Harbor. Bobby might as well have a target on his back that said, “To marry this man, call 555-6000.”

Bobby whirled around and headed for the locked file cabinet in his outer office.

“Where are you going?” Tucker called after him.

“To write her a check. She can name the figure and pay me back whenever she gets the horse back, or collects from the security company. I want her gone now. ”

Tucker’s annoying hoot of laughter followed him. “Don’t laugh too hard,” he warned his brother. “I can always remind Daddy that you’re his oldest son. You’re the one whose social life he really ought to be worrying about.”

Tucker headed straight for the door. “I’ll get right on this.”

Bobby gave a little nod of satisfaction. “I thought that might motivate you.”

Jenna’s meeting with Harvey Needham promised to be very enlightening. She had long since picked up on the fact that he and Bobby were sworn enemies, at least when it came to developing the waterfront. That made the mayor her enemy, too, but he didn’t have to know that just yet. So far, he hadn’t tried to pin her down about her exact reason for being in Trinity Harbor, and the longer she could keep it that way, the better off she was. He clearly hadn’t connected her to the commotion on Bobby’s lawn the day before. As long as she kept the attention focused on him, she could keep her own identity and stake in the town’s future cloaked in mystery.

She stared across the table and studied him. He was wearing a bright green polo shirt that did little for his washed-out complexion. His hairline was slipping, but his round face was virtually unlined, making it difficult to guess his age. He seemed fit enough, though, suggesting he was the kind of man who maintained a rigid control over his diet. She recognized the type. She had one at home just like him. Her father drank to excess when it suited him, but not a single indulgence crossed his lips when it came to food.

“What made you decide to run for mayor?” she asked Harvey.

His chest puffed up as he replied, “Young lady, it is the civic duty of every citizen to give something back to the community in which they live.” It sounded like the start of a campaign speech. “When I retired, I finally had the time to serve this town and bring some of my business skills to the operation of the town’s services.”

“That’s a very noble goal,” Jenna told him. “Where do you see Trinity Harbor ten years from now? What kind of a community will it be?”

“Quiet,” he said at once. “With a sound economic base. The way you accomplish that is to bring in folks with money, good middle-class residents looking for a place to retire. Folks like that want their lives to run smoothly. They want clean shops, good services and low taxes.”

“What about entertainment?”

“They’ve got Fredericksburg and Richmond just up the road for that,” he said dismissively. “The town doesn’t need to provide it.”

Jenna couldn’t believe such a shortsighted view, but she knew she was treading on thin ice. She had to be careful how far she pushed him, or he’d want to know why she cared.

“Don’t you think that people with time on their hands want leisure activities nearby?” she inquired cautiously. “A golf course, maybe. Tennis courts. A community center. Things for their grandchildren to do when they visit.”

Before he could reply, she added, “What do your grandchildren do when they come, Mr. Needham?”

He blinked at that, looking vaguely disconcerted. “Actually, they haven’t come here in some time. Our children prefer that we visit them.”

“Why is that?” Jenna asked innocently. She was pretty sure she knew. His children didn’t come because they didn’t want to listen to a nonstop refrain from his grandchildren about there being nothing to do here. It would be interesting to hear his take on it, though.

“They have their lives. It’s less of a disruption if we go to them,” he said. “My wife grumbles a bit about how rarely we see them, but I can see the sense of doing it this way.”

She decided to press the point. “But Trinity Harbor is such a lovely town. I would think they would absolutely jump at the chance to get away for a while. After all, that is what drew you here, isn’t it?”

The mayor frowned. “What’s your point, Ms. Kennedy?”

“It just occurs to me that if you want to attract the kind of residents you’re hoping to, just putting up places for them to live won’t entirely address the situation.”

His gaze narrowed. “Spencer put you up to saying that, didn’t he?” he asked suspiciously. “Sounds just like that hogwash he’s always spouting around town.”

“Bobby and I haven’t discussed that precise issue,” she said honestly. “Is that what he thinks?”

“You’re trying to tell me the two of you aren’t in cahoots?” he demanded. “I saw you in his office just now. Why else would you be there?”

“The same reason I’m with you right now,” Jenna insisted. “Just getting to know all I can about Trinity Harbor.”

“And why would you want to be doing that?” he asked, studying her with a narrowed gaze. “You’re a little young to be thinking about moving to an out-of-the-way place like this. There’s no nightlife here, Ms. Kennedy.”

“Nightlife’s not a big priority with me. And more and more people my age are making lifestyle choices, right along with career choices.”

He still didn’t look as if he believed her. “Where are you from, Ms. Kennedy?”

“Born and raised in Baltimore,” she said readily.

“But you want to leave?”

“I’m exploring my options,” she told him with complete sincerity. Though she hadn’t considered it before, she realized that a part of her had always wanted to live in a place just like Trinity Harbor. She’d always dismissed it as a romantic fantasy, but there was no real reason it had to be, especially if she could nab this job here.

“Well, Trinity Harbor would be glad to have you, I’m sure,” Harvey said, though he looked a little doubtful.

Jenna beamed at him. “You’ll be the first to know if things work out,” she told him. Whether she agreed with his vision for the town or not, she’d have to work with him if she got the contract for the boardwalk development. There was little point in alienating him at this stage.

“I’d better run along,” she told him. “Bobby promised me lunch and a tour of the town before I head back home this afternoon.”

“You watch yourself with him, young lady. The Spencers are held in high regard around here, but they’re a sneaky lot. Never know when one of ’em will stab you in the back.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Jenna assured him as she went off in search of Bobby.

She found him in his office, his feet propped up on his desk and a smug expression on his face.

“Enjoy your meeting with the mayor?” he inquired.

“It was illuminating,” she told him. “He thinks you’re sneaky.”

Bobby didn’t seem the slightest bit surprised or dismayed by that assessment. “That doesn’t hold a candle to what I think of him,” he said as he stood up. “You ready for lunch?”

“Can’t wait,” she told him.

He drove into town and parked down the block from a beachfront diner. “It’s not fancy, but Earlene’s is the heart and soul of Trinity Harbor. You want to know what’s going on around town, this is the place to come. I’d advise you to stay away from the coffee, though. The acid will burn a hole in your stomach.”

Jenna grinned. “What would you recommend?”

“The iced tea and a burger are pretty safe bets.”

“I’m surprised you eat here at all. Don’t you like the food at the marina?”

He chuckled at that. “I like it just fine. Matter of fact, I cook most of it, but as you noticed, we’re closed on Mondays.”

“You’re a cook? I thought you owned it.”

“I do, and I’m a chef,” he corrected testily. “But let’s not quibble.” He led the way to a booth by a window that looked out on the river, then regarded Jenna seriously. “Any plan for the waterfront has to include Earlene’s.”

“Of course,” Jenna agreed at once. Though the interior was a little shabby, the place had an undeniable charm that could only be acquired over time. The wooden floors had been worn smooth by sandy feet. The tunes on the jukebox were oldies. The soda fountain looked as if it came straight out of the set for the old TV sitcom Happy Days.

When her iced tea came in an old-fashioned, curving soda glass and her plain white pottery plate came loaded with crispy fries and a burger topped with a bright red tomato slice that looked as if it had just been picked in the garden, Jenna sighed with pure contentment.

Around them there was the steady hum of lively conversation and the occasional burst of laughter. She hadn’t missed the speculative looks when she had arrived with Bobby, but the attention had quickly drifted away.

This was the kind of place she looked for in Baltimore and never found. She was sure they existed, but probably in parts of town her father would be appalled if she visited. In her neighborhood there were chic cafés and trendy restaurants, where lingering wasn’t condoned, much less encouraged.

“I could really start to like it here,” she said, around a juicy bite of hamburger.

“Don’t,” Bobby said tersely. “There is nothing for you in Trinity Harbor.”

She bristled defiantly at his tone and the warning. “Have you made up your mind, then? Are you turning down my proposal?”

He hesitated.

“Well?” she prodded. “Can you look me in the eye and tell me it’s not exactly what you would have described, if I’d asked you how you saw the waterfront developing?”

“No,” he conceded with obvious reluctance. “But that doesn’t change anything. The two of us working together is a bad idea.”

“Why?”

“It just is.”

“Just what I like,” she said scathingly. “A businessman who has solid, rational reasons for his decisions.”

“It’s my decision to make,” he reminded her with exaggerated patience.

“Then don’t let it be a bad one,” she pleaded. “It’s too important. At least say you’ll think it over.”

“I don’t know,” he said, his expression troubled.

“Come on. What do you have to lose?”

“My sanity,” he muttered.

She chuckled at the plaintive note in his voice. “I swear, I will do my very best not to drive you crazy.”

“Too late.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a rectangle of paper and slid it across the table.

Jenna looked at it but didn’t reach for it. “What’s that?”

“A check.”

Hope stirred inside her. Was this the down payment on the deal? They hadn’t talked money, but maybe he’d decided on a nominal retainer. She swallowed hard and met his gaze. “For?”

“The horse,” he said quietly. “It’s the amount you mentioned. It should cover the loss.”

Her stomach fell. “You’re paying me off to go away?”

He nodded. “That’s the idea.”

Jenna shoved the check back across the table, spilling her tea in the process. She paid no attention as it ran straight toward her lap. “Forget it,” she said fiercely.

She wasn’t about to let Bobby Spencer buy her off with a check to cover the cost of the carousel horse. She wanted a contract for the waterfront development and her blasted horse. Nothing less would do.

And if she had to pack up Darcy and take up residence right here in Trinity Harbor until she got what she wanted, well, that was what she’d do.

“I’m not going anywhere, Bobby. Get used to it.”

He seemed completely nonplussed by her vehemence. “But your daughter—”

“Is out of school for the summer,” she retorted. “I can have her down here with me by tomorrow.”

“Your job—”

She made a quick decision and met his gaze evenly. “ This is my job. Getting this contract is my chance to make something happen in my career. I’m not walking away from it without a fight.”

The fact that her announcement made Bobby look as if he’d been punched right in the gut was just so much icing on the cake.

“Where’s Jenna?” Maggie asked, when Bobby returned to his office after lunch.

“Gone, I hope.”

Maggie seemed surprised and a little disappointed. “For good? I thought she was made of tougher stuff than that.”

“I should be so lucky,” Bobby said with a resigned sigh. “No, I imagine she’ll be back.”

His secretary grinned. “Good. I liked her.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. You’re cut from the same cloth.” He regarded her pointedly and added, “Neither one of you knows when to let well enough alone.”

“Okay, I get it,” Maggie said agreeably. “By the way, Richard called from the paper. He’s on his way over. He heard about the theft.”

“Why didn’t you tell him to talk to Tucker?”

“How do you think he heard about it?” Maggie retorted.

“Well, hell,” Bobby muttered. What good was it being the sheriff’s brother, if the man was going to blab your business all over town?

“Think of it this way,” Maggie advised. “It could be worse. It could be your father on his way over.”

“You have a point,” Bobby agreed, but his momentary cheer faded quickly.

Why had King been so silent? Usually he liked to make his opinions known. His silence did not bode well. Either he was sick or he was up to something. Since King was healthy as a horse, it was more likely the latter. Bobby started to reach for the phone, then stopped himself.

“Be grateful,” he muttered.

Maggie eyed him curiously. “What?”

“Nothing. When Richard comes, send him over to the kitchen. I’m going to experiment with a new crab recipe.” Maybe he could find a spice that would cover the taste of arsenic. The list of people he’d like to serve it to was getting longer and longer.

5

H iding out in Trinity Harbor for a few weeks began to seem more and more sensible as Jenna drove back to Baltimore. Not only would it give her time to land the development contract, but it would lessen the odds that her father would find out about that missing horse and the money she’d squandered on the carousel. Hopefully she’d recover the stolen horse in the meantime, as well.

And a nice long vacation with Darcy could only be a good thing, too. They needed to spend some quality time together. Maybe Jenna could actually manage to reestablish the fact that she was the mother and Darcy was the kid. Her daughter seemed to be a little mixed up on that point.

The more Jenna considered her plan, the more she warmed to it. By the time she turned into the tree-lined drive at her father’s house, she was convinced it was the second-smartest idea she’d ever had. The brightest was going after that development contract in the first place. It was exactly the kind of dramatic gesture that could change the rest of her life. If she made a success of this, her father would have to acknowledge her. He would have to give her more to do than answering phones and typing letters.

After just two days in Trinity Harbor, walking into her father’s house reminded her of just how pretentious her lifestyle had been up to now. There was too much of everything. Too many ornate antiques cluttered the rooms. Heavy draperies shrouded the windows. Vases filled with fresh flowers filled all the rooms with an overpowering sweet scent. Her father—or more precisely, his decorators—had access to more money than taste.

Jenna shuddered at the oppressive atmosphere and headed for the one room that was bright and airy, the kitchen that her mother had designed and her father rarely entered.

The housekeeper looked up from the salad she was fixing and smiled. “Welcome home,” Mrs. Jamison said. “Did you have a good trip?”

How to describe it? Jenna thought. “It was interesting,” she said finally. “And I loved the little town. In fact, I’m going to schedule a vacation for the next few weeks and take Darcy down there until school starts. How is she, by the way? Did she give you any trouble?”

“None at all,” Mrs. Jamison insisted, though her tone and the twinkle in her eyes suggested otherwise. Mrs. Jamison doted on Darcy, which meant the girl got away with quite a lot when Jenna or Darcy’s grandfather weren’t around to forbid it.

“Okay, tell the truth,” Jenna said with a sense of foreboding. “What did she do?”

“You’ll see soon enough,” Mrs. Jamison said mysteriously, that hint of amusement still threading through her voice.

“Please tell me she did not dye her hair purple,” Jenna pleaded.

“No, you made yourself quite clear about that,” the housekeeper assured her. “But perhaps you should have been a little more inclusive.”

A dull throb began behind Jenna’s eyes. “Meaning?”

Mrs. Jamison gestured toward the doorway. Jenna turned slowly and found Darcy peeping around the corner. Her hair was shamrock green and had been cut by blunt-edged scissors and gelled so that it poked up in all directions.

“You said I couldn’t dye it purple, ” Darcy said, her chin tilted defiantly.

“So I did,” Jenna agreed, wondering if this was the payback she was due for her own childhood rebellions. Of course, until Nick, hers had been minor in comparison to this. Keeping her tone level, she beckoned to her daughter. “Come in and let me see.”

Despite her defiance, the nine-year-old looked as if she might be harboring some very deep regrets about her impulsive behavior. “I think it looks great!” Darcy said, as if daring her mother to deny it.

“Well, there’s certainly no question that you’ll stand out in a crowd. Was that what you were hoping?” she inquired, knowing perfectly well that Darcy much preferred to blend in. Usually these little displays were designed solely to drive her mother up the wall. Darcy knew her mother would insist they be corrected by the time she went out in public.

“Yes,” Darcy said stubbornly.

“Good.” Jenna made a quick decision, one she hoped might impart a stronger lesson than the usual punishment she doled out, apparently rather ineffectively since the misbehavior kept recurring. “Run on upstairs and pack your clothes.”

Darcy’s eyes widened. Her lower lip quivered. “You’re sending me away?”

“No, I’m taking you away,” Jenna corrected, her expression as cheerful as if nothing at all were amiss. “We’re going on vacation first thing tomorrow.”

Her daughter blinked at that. “You’re letting me go like this?”

“It is the unique look you wanted, isn’t it?” Jenna asked innocently.

“But…”

“But what?”

“You usually take me straight over to Rene’s and make her fix it.”

Jenna smiled. “Not this time. Besides, you’ve already cut your hair pretty short. I’m not sure what a hairdresser could do to correct it.”

A horrified expression crossed Darcy’s face. “You’re making me keep it like this?”

“Yep,” Jenna said as Mrs. Jamison turned away to hide a smile.

Tears pooled in Darcy’s eyes and spilled down her cheeks. “I hate you,” she shouted, and ran from the kitchen.

Jenna sighed.

“You’re doing the right thing,” Mrs. Jamison reassured her. “It’s a good lesson in living with the consequences of her actions.”

“I know, but you haven’t been to Trinity Harbor,” Jenna said, voicing her one regret about the plan. “Darcy is going to stand out like a sore thumb.”

“Then she won’t be so quick to do something impulsive like this again,” the housekeeper said.

Jenna looked at the woman who’d raised her brothers and done her best to be a mother to Jenna on her rare visits home. “Why does she do things like this? She’s only nine. What on earth will she be doing when she hits her teens?”

“Maybe she’ll have it all out of her system by then,” Mrs. Jamison suggested soothingly.

“Or maybe she’ll be in a juvenile detention facility,” Jenna said wearily.

“You weren’t, were you?”

“I never did anything like this,” Jenna insisted.

“Didn’t you? Maybe you never touched your hair, but then it was your pride and joy because it was red like your mama’s. I do seem to recall that you came close to giving your daddy a heart attack when you came home from school sporting a snake tattoo one year, and that was some years before tattoos were all the rage among respectable people.”

“It was temporary,” Jenna reminded her.

“Your father didn’t know that.” The housekeeper grinned and patted Jenna’s hand. “Darcy’s hair is temporary, too. It will grow and the color will wash out eventually.”

“I was really hoping she’d have a good time in Trinity Harbor. How can she if everyone keeps their kids away from her because she looks like a pint-sized member of a grunge band?”

“Is this really about Darcy being accepted, or about you?” Mrs. Jamison asked with her usual insight.

Jenna heaved a resigned sigh. The wise woman had nailed it on the head again. “A little of both,” she admitted.

After all, what kind of an impression would Darcy make on uptight Bobby Spencer? He was likely to take one look at Jenna’s child and conclude that a woman who had no better control over her daughter couldn’t possibly be entrusted with a million-dollar development plan.

“What kind of people make judgments based on appearances?” Mrs. Jamison asked.

Jenna considered the validity of this point and nodded. Bobby hadn’t exactly held her disheveled appearance against her on the morning of their meeting, had he? Maybe he’d be generous where Darcy was concerned as well.

“You’re absolutely right, Mrs. Jamison.” Why would she even want to work for someone who held a little girl’s appearance against her? “Where’s my father, by the way?”

“Out for the evening. He said he’d catch up with you at breakfast.”

Jenna didn’t bother trying to hide her relief. “Has he gotten a glimpse of Darcy?”

“Not yet. Even she was smart enough to stay in her room when he came back to change for dinner.”

“Good. Maybe I can get both of us out of town before he wakes up in the morning.”

Mrs. Jamison didn’t even pretend to hide her dismay. “You’re leaving without talking it over with him? Do you think that’s wise, Jenna?”

“I think this might be one of those times when a note is smarter than a direct confrontation,” Jenna assured her.

Besides, if she could sneak away, there would be less of a chance that he’d pry her secret mission out of her. She wanted a signed contract in her hand the next time she saw her father. It might mute his disapproval of her underhanded tactics in leaving him out of the loop on this project. She didn’t exactly have the authority to commit Pennington and Sons’s resources to this deal.

As for abandoning him at the office with no notice, to her very deep regret, she acknowledged that he probably wouldn’t even notice.

Bobby looked across his desk into the fascinated gaze of Anna-Louise Walton and winced. “You don’t approve of me trying to buy Jenna off, do you?”

“That depends on why you decided to try it,” the pastor said, amusement dancing in her eyes. “Care to explain your thinking?”

“No good could come of having her here,” Bobby said flatly. “None.”

“Because she’s a woman?” Anna-Louise asked mildly.

“Watch it,” her husband warned Bobby. “Think about your response very, very carefully. You’re about to get a sermon on being a sexist pig unless you answer this exactly right.”

“Yeah, I can see the trap,” Bobby conceded.

Anna-Louise frowned at both of them, then addressed Bobby. “Do you doubt Jenna’s qualifications?”

Bobby shook his head. “Her firm has solid credentials, though I got the impression this is her first big presentation. She all but admitted she had something to prove.”

“Okay, then,” Anna-Louise said approvingly. “And what about the plan itself? Didn’t you like it?”

“She didn’t have preliminary sketches or anything, but in terms of concept, it was actually right on target,” Bobby admitted, knowing that he was digging a very deep hole for himself.

“So you tried to get rid of her just because she’s a woman and therefore what? Not in need of a job? Not smart enough?” Anna-Louise pressed.

“Of course not,” Bobby denied heatedly. That sort of blatant discrimination was wrong. Even he could see that, though at the moment it was darned inconvenient. Besides, Jenna had made it plain that she was ambitious and smart, both admirable traits in his book.

Anna-Louise grinned. “Then it must be because you were attracted to her and that scared the living daylights out of you. You did swear off relationships after Ann-Marie ran off with Lonnie four weeks before your wedding, right?”

The mention of Ann-Marie and Lonnie still had the capacity to stir up a cold rage in Bobby. Anna-Louise wouldn’t have touched that topic if she had a grain of sense in her head, but then she hadn’t been here at the time. She hadn’t witnessed his humiliation firsthand. She only knew that the prospect of bumping into the two traitors had kept Bobby away from church ever since, and no amount of pressure or cajoling had been able to woo him back.

“I know your heart’s in the right place, Anna-Louise, but I do not want to discuss those two with you,” he said tightly. “Not ever.”

“Or with anyone else, it seems.” The minister regarded him with compassion. “Maybe it’s time you discussed your feelings about what happened with someone. Until you forgive them and let go of the past, you’ll never be able to move on with your life.”

“Not going to happen,” Bobby insisted. He’d fry in hell first.

“The only person you’re hurting is yourself,” she said softly.

Bobby sighed. That was probably true enough. He certainly hadn’t seen much evidence that Ann-Marie and Lonnie were suffering any pangs of guilt over what they’d done. The only place in town they avoided was the yacht center. Other than that, they paraded around town hand in hand, flaunting the fact that they were madly in love and seemingly oblivious to the fact that they’d betrayed Bobby to be together.

Their children were less circumspect. They turned up on the docks with their friends and invaded the kitchen for snacks whenever they could get away with it. No matter how many times Bobby told Tommy that his restaurant kitchen was off-limits to him and his friends, Daisy’s adopted son continued to treat it as if it contained his own personal stash of treats. Ann-Marie’s boy, J.C., was usually among the interlopers.

Even so, the yacht center and restaurant were still about the only places left where Bobby felt reasonably safe from unexpected encounters with the two people responsible for breaking his heart. Not that he intended to admit any of that to Anna-Louise. He just sat there stonily, enduring her expectant stare.

Richard finally took pity on him and spoke to his wife. “Hon, maybe you shouldn’t push this. Besides, I’m not sure we’re entitled to know why Bobby doesn’t want to work with Jenna. It’s his project and his money.”

“I thought he might feel better if he made a confession about his real reasons for trying to avoid working with her,” Anna-Louise said unrepentantly.

“Wrong church,” Richard pointed out. “He needs a priest for that.”

“I can listen,” Anna-Louise protested. “And offer comfort and forgiveness. The mechanics might be different, but the principle’s the same no matter which church I belong to.”

Bobby chuckled despite himself. “Sorry, Anna-Louise. I’m not in need of either one. I’m perfectly comfortable with my decision. The only thing I regret is that it didn’t work. The woman’s stubborn as a mule.” Spencers knew all about stubbornness, it didn’t take much for them to recognize it in others. And Jenna had it in spades.

The pastor’s eyes brightened. “Then she is coming back? Good! I can hardly wait to meet her. Daisy and I will host a little get-together so she can get acquainted with a few people.”

Richard groaned. “You just want a chance to cross-examine her and see how she measures up as a candidate for Bobby’s love life.”

“I most certainly do not,” Anna-Louise said indignantly. “I’m perfectly content to leave the matchmaking to King. Although the way I hear it, Jenna does look an awful lot like Ann-Marie. Is that so, Bobby?”

The observation seemed to suck the breath right out of him. He hadn’t considered it consciously before, but it was true. Jenna did bear a remarkable resemblance to the woman who had broken his heart and humiliated him in the process. Maybe that was why he’d reacted so violently the first time he’d seen her. Maybe it had nothing to do with the commotion on his lawn at all.

“I refuse to answer,” he said blandly.

“Which must mean she does,” Anna-Louise said complacently. “King is going to be in hog heaven when he hears that little tidbit.”

“Not an especially reassuring thought,” Bobby noted. He glanced hopefully at Richard. “Can you stop this?”

“Not a chance. My wife is an independent woman. So is your sister. You don’t have a prayer, my friend.”

Bobby scowled at Anna-Louise. “I could pray about this, couldn’t I? And a benevolent God would take pity on me, right?”

She grinned. “Maybe. Maybe not. It all depends on what He has in mind for you. He might have sent Jenna down here in the first place just to shake you out of the doldrums.”

“If He did, it was a mean trick,” Bobby retorted.

“No, in that case, it was a divine plan,” she countered. “Pay attention to it.”

Bobby shot a commiserating look at Richard. “And you live with this kind of reasoning all the time? I feel for you.”

Richard chuckled and put an arm around his wife’s waist as he steered her toward the door. “It has its compensations,” he said. “And since we’re already married, she doesn’t have to meddle in my love life.”

Bobby laughed as he watched them leave, but as soon as they were out of sight, his expression sobered. For all of his tart comments, he envied what they had. He truly did.

He just wasn’t sure he was ready to take the risks involved in trying to find something like it for himself. And even if he were, Jenna Kennedy would be the last person on earth he’d choose. He liked serenity, and the way he felt around her was anything but serene.

As he always did when he was stressed, Bobby retreated to the kitchen at the yacht center. The dinner rush was only an hour away, and he’d been in the middle of preparations when Richard had come by, ostensibly to get information about the stolen carousel horse. Since he’d come with Anna-Louise in tow, Bobby was a little suspicious of his real motives. Precious little of their time together had been spent talking about the theft. Once the conversation had veered off-course to the topic of Jenna, it had never gotten back on track again.

As he walked into the kitchen, he found the air thick with the spicy scent of steamed shrimp and crabs. The pungent aroma of garlic for the night’s scampi special added to his sense of well-being. Based on the aromas alone, he was reassured that the food tonight would be incredible.

This was his milieu. There was nothing he liked better than experimenting with ingredients, adding a dash of this herb or a sprinkling of that one to bring out the flavor of a dish in a whole new way.

For a man who liked his life to be peaceful and calm, the commotion of a restaurant kitchen just before the crowds descended should have been disconcerting, but it suited him. He liked the bustle, the camaraderie, even the temperamental outbursts of his pastry chef, who was a perfectionist and tolerated nothing less from anyone coming into contact with the pies and cakes and light-as-air confections he created. The concept of great meals being orchestrated out of confusion was satisfying to him.

Bobby moved from counter to gleaming counter, from oven to oven, to check on the progress of the night’s specials. Everything looked as delicious as it smelled. He clapped his hands and caught everyone’s attention.

“We’re booked to capacity tonight,” he announced. “Let’s everybody stay calm and focused and make this a memorable evening all the way around.”

Suddenly the eyes that had been trained on him shifted their focus at the sound of a door opening.

“So, this is where you spend your time when you’re not trying to bribe people into leaving town,” a honeyed voice said.

He’d discovered all too recently that only one person had a voice like that, only one had the capacity to make his blood pound, only one had the temerity to invade his space—Jenna. How could she possibly be back already? Bobby had been counting on having at least a few days to mentally prepare for her return. Her overnight return caught him totally off-guard.

As his entire staff feigned a sudden interest in the food preparation that was already under control, he turned slowly. “Back already, Jenna?”

“What can I say? I felt so welcome here, I rushed right back. Can we talk?”

“Not now,” he said emphatically. He tucked a hand under her elbow and escorted her back to the dining room. “No one besides staff is allowed back here.”

She peered around his shoulder for one last glimpse of the kitchen. “Don’t want the customers to see what you’re doing to their food? Are you using some preservative that will eventually kill them all?”

He scowled at her. “That isn’t even mildly amusing. No one is allowed back here, first, because I say so, and, second, because it’s dangerous. They get in the way. They can get burned. Fair warning, Ms. Kennedy.”

“Duly noted,” she said, not looking the least bit chastened. “When can we talk?”

“Where are you staying? I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“I meant tonight,” she said.

“I’m sure you did. Tomorrow will have to do.”

Her gaze met his. “Is everything between us going to be a battle?”

“Pretty much,” he said unrepentantly. “It’s your choice to be here. I can’t ban you from the town, but I don’t have to deal with you on your terms.”

“But you do have to deal with me,” she said just as emphatically. “I’m not going away until you do. What time do you close?”

“On a weeknight, the last of the customers are gone by ten, except at the bar. I’m finished cleaning up in the kitchen about an hour later.”

“I’ll be here,” she said, her gaze unflinching.

Bobby had to admire her grit. Most people would have wilted and accepted his terms. Most would have seen the sense in giving him a tiny, albeit meaningless, victory. Jenna apparently didn’t intend to give an inch.

“Whatever,” he said, resigned. He headed for the kitchen.

“And don’t try sneaking out the back door,” she called after him.

Bobby flushed guiltily at that. It was exactly what he had been contemplating. He turned back slowly and, as if the thought had never crossed his mind, said, “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

She laughed. “Then you aren’t half as sneaky as you’ve wanted me to believe. I’ll see you around eleven.”

“I wish I could say I’ll be looking forward to it,” Bobby retorted, then pushed open the kitchen door and retreated.

Safely inside, he leaned for a moment against the counter, drew in a deep breath and prayed for patience.

While he was at it, he added a little prayer for help in resisting temptation, because for the last ten minutes—ever since Jenna Kennedy had appeared in his kitchen—all he’d been able to think about was kissing the annoying woman senseless.

6

J enna felt triumphant as she went back to the table where Darcy was waiting, her expression sullen.

“There’s nothing on this menu I like,” Darcy complained as Jenna sat down.

“You love crabcakes,” Jenna said, refusing to be goaded into an argument. “And hamburgers and French fries.”

“Not anymore,” Darcy insisted in the lofty tone of someone twice her age.

“Then sit there while I eat.”

Darcy stared at Jenna with a shocked expression. “You’re going to let me starve?”

“You won’t starve if you miss one meal,” Jenna said, holding firm for once. “Besides, it’s your decision not to eat, not mine.”

Her daughter seemed taken aback. “Mommy, what’s happened to you? You never used to be like this.”

“I developed a backbone,” Jenna said, realizing that it was true. For too long she had catered to Darcy’s every whim—to say nothing of Randall Pennington’s—out of guilt over divorcing Nick. She had paid and paid and paid. Well, no more. It hadn’t done any good that she could see, anyway.

Astonishingly, the shift in her thinking had happened after she’d had her first encounter with the impossible Bobby Spencer. He had solidified every ounce of resolve she’d ever possessed. Someday, when he stopped annoying her, she would thank him for that.

“I don’t like it,” Darcy said, pouting.

Jenna grinned at her. “No, I imagine you don’t, but get used to it, because this is the way it’s going to be from now on. We’re turning over a new leaf while we’re in Trinity Harbor.”

“What does that mean?” Darcy asked suspiciously.

“It means you don’t run the show, I do,” Jenna told her. “It’ll be a new experience for both of us.”

Just then a waitress approached and asked to take their orders. Jenna looked at Darcy. “Are you just having water, or have you reconsidered?”

“I’ll have a hamburger,” Darcy said meekly. “And French fries.”

Jenna hid a smile, then ordered the shrimp scampi for herself along with a salad of arugula, endive, blue cheese and walnuts. “I’ll have water to drink for now and coffee after dinner.” She glanced at Darcy. “What would you like to drink?”

“A soda,” Darcy said at once, regarding Jenna with a defiant look.

Since she’d won the earlier battle over the food, Jenna gave in on the soda. Normally, she restricted her daughter’s intake of sodas to one a day, and Darcy was already well over that limit; she’d begged to stop for a drink three times en route to Trinity Harbor.

“Since this is the first night of our vacation, you can have it,” Jenna agreed. “But don’t press your luck tomorrow.”

As soon as the waitress had brought the drinks, Jenna spotted a woman heading straight toward them, a man and boy in tow. Belatedly she realized the man was the same sheriff’s deputy she’d met on Sunday at Bobby Spencer’s. He nodded at Jenna.

“Ms. Kennedy, I don’t know if you remember me,” he said.

“Of course, I do. It’s Walker Ames, isn’t it?”

“Good memory.”

“It was a memorable occasion,” she said dryly.

His grin transformed his somber face. “That it was. The impatient woman beside me is my wife, Daisy. And this is our son, Tommy.”

As Jenna was about to acknowledge the introduction, Walker held up a silencing hand. “And just so you know, Daisy is a Spencer. She’s Bobby’s sister.”

Daisy frowned at her husband. “You didn’t have to say that like she needs to be warned.”

“Oh, yes, I did,” Walker said with a sympathetic look at Jenna. “Prepare yourself. Daisy has questions.”

“A million of them,” Daisy agreed. “Will you be in town long?”

“For as long as it takes,” Jenna told her.

“Have you considered buying a house and thinking ahead toward retirement?” Daisy said wryly. “My brother can be difficult.”

“So I’ve gathered,” Jenna said, her tone just as dry.

Tommy was eyeing Darcy with evident fascination. “Cool haircut,” he said admiringly.

“Don’t even think about it,” Walker said emphatically.

Daisy rolled her eyes. “Long story, but Tommy is actually Walker’s nephew. Walker is still adapting to his new role as Tommy’s father. He hasn’t quite grasped the concept that forbidding something only makes it more alluring.”

Jenna laughed and gestured at Darcy. “Sweetheart, tell Deputy Ames what I told you right before you dyed your hair green.”

“She told me I couldn’t dye it purple,” Darcy said, then added with a proud lift of her chin, “and I didn’t.”

Daisy bit back a smile. “Ah, the loophole defense. I’m a teacher. I hear that one quite often.” She tucked an arm around Tommy’s shoulders, then added pointedly, “It doesn’t work with me.”

Tommy shrugged. “I’ve figured that out.” His gaze went back to Darcy. “You want to come by and see my boat sometime? Walker and me have been working on it for a really long time. It’s almost ready to go in the water.”

Darcy nodded at once, her sullen expression vanishing at the prospect of finding a friend and having an adventure. “Sure. Mom, would it be okay?”

“Please,” Daisy said at once. “Jenna, you and I could chat.”

Walker groaned. “Agree at your own peril,” he warned Jenna. “My wife is not known for the subtlety of her grilling.”

Jenna was undaunted by that. “Neither am I,” she said at once.

Daisy laughed. “You and I are going to get along very well,” she said. “What about tomorrow at noon? We can have lunch.”

“I’d love it,” Jenna said, already envisioning the million and one tips she could get on handling Daisy’s brother. “We’ll be there.”

“I don’t suppose there’s any chance at all that Bobby’s name won’t come up,” Walker said in one last display of masculine loyalty.

“None,” Jenna and Daisy agreed in chorus.

“Then I’d better go in the kitchen and warn him he might want to consider abandoning any thought of developing the riverfront and concentrate on leaving town,” Walker said, heading off in that direction.

Tommy looked up at Daisy. “Why would Uncle Bobby want to leave town?”

“That’s just Walker’s way of being a smart aleck,” Daisy told him. “It is not an attractive quality. Don’t even think about emulating him.”

Tommy stared at her with a puzzled look. “I don’t even know what that means.”

Daisy winked at Jenna. “I’ll explain it to you back at our table. Nice meeting you, Jenna. You, too, Darcy. I’ll look forward to tomorrow.”

“Me, too,” Jenna responded. Especially if, as Walker had implied, her visiting Daisy was going to drive Bobby Spencer up a wall.

“They’re out there, right now, together?” Bobby repeated, staring at Walker with dismay. “Jenna Kennedy and Daisy?”

“Oh, yeah. And they’re making plans, big ones from the sound of it,” his brother-in-law warned him. “Some sort of get-together tomorrow for lunch. Just so you know, it was actually Tommy’s idea. I don’t think he realized what he was setting in motion.”

“I’m surprised Daisy let you loose to warn me.”

“Oh, I think that’s part of her strategy. She wants you nervous.”

“Why?”

“Because it will be proof that she’s right about Jenna being the woman who can shake you out of your complacency,” Walker said. “I’m only beginning to grasp just how devious your sister’s mind truly is. If I’d known a few months ago, I might not have been so quick to jump into marriage.”

Bobby laughed at that. “As if you had any choice in the matter! You were a goner from the minute you hit town to meet Tommy and try to take him away from her. She had no intention of letting that boy leave with you, even if it meant luring you into falling in love with her.”

Walker shrugged. “Let that be a lesson to you. The circumstances might be different, but Daisy sees the same fate befalling you.”

“Not a snowball’s chance in hell,” Bobby insisted, though his denials—which should have been improving with practice—were beginning to lose a little steam instead. Even he could hear the change. He didn’t need Walker’s prompt grin to point it out.

“Well, consider yourself duly warned,” Walker said. “I’ve done my bit in terms of family loyalty. You know the score. I’m sure you can handle things from here on out.”

Bobby sighed. “I wish I were half as confident of that as you are.” He picked up the orders that had been prepared for Walker, Daisy and Tommy and handed them to Walker. “Take these with you.”

“Hey,” Walker protested. “I thought this place was renowned for its good service, as well as its excellent food.”

“Like you said, you’re family. You can help out.”

“See if I ever give you fair warning about any schemes afoot again,” Walker grumbled as he left with their meals.

Once his brother-in-law had gone, Bobby went back to work with a vengeance, but nothing he did blocked out the image of his sister and Jenna conspiring behind his back. Just the thought of it made him shudder. The only thing worse would be King getting in on the act.

He could think of only one way to keep the two women apart. He could make Jenna a better offer—maybe dangle the prospect of a noontime tour of the waterfront before her. It was better than leaving her alone with Daisy. At least if he was with her, he’d know what she was up to.

He didn’t wait until he’d cleaned up the kitchen to execute his plan. The second the last order had been sent to a table, he slipped into the dining room, glanced around until he spotted Jenna and headed her way. His step faltered only when he saw the girl with her. A grin slipped across his face. Green, spiked hair. He had to admire the child’s daring. Jenna must be an incredibly liberal mother, or the girl was being taught a lesson. He suspected the latter.

When Bobby reached their table, he pulled out a chair, turned it around and straddled it. “How was dinner?” he asked.

“Excellent,” Jenna conceded.

“It was okay,” the girl muttered, her scowl firmly in place.

“Darcy, don’t be rude to Mr. Spencer,” Jenna chided. “By the way, Bobby, this is my daughter, Darcy.”

“I can see the resemblance,” he said with a pointed glance at the girl’s hairdo.

“It was a little experiment that went awry,” Jenna explained.

“I like it,” Darcy insisted. She turned to Bobby. “Is there anything to do here?”

Bobby studied her with an assessing look. “How old are you? Ten? Twelve?”

“Nine,” Jenna said.

“Then at this hour of the night, there is nothing for you to do,” Bobby said.

“Normally she wouldn’t be out this late,” Jenna said defensively. “But I couldn’t leave her at the hotel by herself, and you were the one who refused to talk to me earlier in the evening.”

Bobby could have debated endlessly who was at fault for the late meeting, but right now he needed to concentrate on preventing that meeting between Jenna and his sister. “Why don’t we get together tomorrow?” he suggested. “Say, around noon. I’ll take you on a tour of the waterfront area.”

Immediate interest sparked in Jenna’s eyes, but faded almost as quickly. “You know I’m supposed to meet your sister at noon, don’t you?”

He feigned ignorance. “Really?”

“Oh, don’t try that with me. I know Walker couldn’t wait to run into the kitchen to warn you.”

“So, what’s it going to be? Are you more interested in lunch with Daisy or in seeing the land I’m planning to develop?”

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