Читать книгу The Sheriff and The Amnesiac - Ryanne Corey - Страница 8

In high school, it hadn’t escaped Tyler Cook’s attention that the local girls had a weakness for a lanky cowboy with summer-blue eyes and an all-American smile. They enjoyed the way he walked, real slow and lazy, like he had no place to go and nothing to do when he got there. His appeal only seemed to increase when he put on his cowboy hat, and the ultimate drawing card seemed to be the bruises and abrasions and black eyes he got whenever he competed in a weekend rodeo. Riding mean-tempered broncos wasn’t exactly a safe or ordinary hobby, but he was young and relished the attention from the stands. Besides, he had a real talent for sticking like a burr to the back of a half-crazy bronco. Inevitably there were times when he ended up eating dust, but the sympathy he received from the buckle bunnies was ample compensation for a wide range of physical injuries. Tyler was young, curious and restless, and there were times when the pace of his small-town life got on his nerves. Like, all the time.

If truth be told, Tyler knew it wasn’t so much Bridal Veil Falls that irritated him as it was his own father’s attitude toward his only son. Gerald Cook believed that boys were to be molded with a heavy hand, and he had the heaviest hand in town. While Tyler’s little sister, Rosie, was spoiled and indulged, Tyler himself was the target of constant criticism and harsh physical punishment for any perceived weakness. According to his father, this would make a man out of him. Which it may have done, but it also made Tyler determined to leave his hometown in the dust the first chance he got.

After graduation from high school, Tyler wasted no time packing up his Chevy truck and heading for college at Montana State University. He had an athletic scholarship, which, along with a part-time job and a government loan, enabled him to get an education far from his father’s harsh disapproval. Unfortunately, his formal education came to an abrupt end ten months shy of graduation. His father had a stroke that prevented him from working the family farm. Tyler realized he had a responsibility to contribute to the family finances. Rather than go home and try to wring a pittance out of fifteen hundred acres of dry farm during a drought, he opted to join the rodeo circuit. Professional rodeo paid real well if you had a talent for it, and there wasn’t a bronc in the world Tyler couldn’t ride—saddleback or bareback. He had an empathy for wild things, possibly because he recognized some sort of long-suppressed wildness in himself. He sent home his winnings, though his father never openly acknowledged his son’s hard-won success. Even Tyler’s picture on the cover of American Cowboy magazine went unnoticed…or at least, unremarked.

The same day Tyler received the gold buckle proclaiming him the World Champion All-Around Cowboy, his father passed away from a second stroke. Though it was too late to come to an understanding with his father, there was no one else to look after his younger sister and grandmother, which necessitated his return to Bridal Veil Falls.

And so Tyler went home to uphold law and order, inciting a near riot among the unattached females of Bridal Veil Falls. For eight long years he dodged and ducked and sidestepped the avalanche of feminine attention, sweet potato pie and Toll House cookies continually coming his way while he waited for the right girl to come along. He knew exactly what he was looking for—someone he could chase until she caught him. How hard was that? She would be tall and willowy, with lustrous dark hair and an adorable dusting of freckles across her cute little nose. Oh, he’d know her the minute he saw her, that much was certain.

Which was why he was nearly knocked out of his Tony Lama cowboy boots when he walked into Enchilada Ernie’s to arrest a criminal and found his soul mate.

There she was. There she was.

It was destiny at first sight. Tyler certainly hadn’t expected her to come barreling into town on a Harley-Davidson, with wild copper hair and a “just try me” expression on her face, but there she was, anyway. She wasn’t what he had expected all these years, but she was so much more. Barely five feet tall, with enormous doe-brown eyes shimmering over high cheekbones. Her tank top was tight beneath her studded leather vest. Her ears were triple-pierced. Her hands were perpetually clenched in frustrated little fists. Not the woman he had expected all these years, but damned if she wasn’t the one he’d been waiting for all his life. Best of all, there was no predatory glint in her eyes, just a hectic, high-flying spirit that reminded him of his own. No, best of all she had a ring on every single finger except the all-important “she belongs to me” finger. Yippee!

Unfortunately, when sweet Ella had turned out to be the criminal, Tyler had been left with no way to keep his soul mate in town. Fortunately, a stroke of genius had prompted him to ask Jenny for her motorcycle license. It was a happy man indeed who walked out of Enchilada Ernie’s with the woman of his dreams slung over his shoulder like a rather light bag of potatoes.

She didn’t wear perfume. In fact, she smelled a little like motor oil and salsa, but he didn’t mind that at all. Had she been able to see his expression while he walked to his patrol car, she would have seen the crooked, whimsical smile that had been pulverizing female hearts for years. But she couldn’t see anything but the black asphalt parking lot, poor thing, and all her energy was going into squirming and shouting and pounding on his back with those frustrated fists.

“Settle down,” he told her, trying to sound stern and commanding, rather than amused. “You’re going to hurt your lovely petite self.”

Jenny’s chin bounced hard between his shoulder blades. “I’m not the—ugh!—the one who is going to get hurt. You’re going to be so sorry you ever—”

“Listen, if you don’t behave yourself, I might get the idea you’re resisting arrest. You don’t want to be charged with that as well, do you?” He set her down next to the passenger door, being careful to keep her arms pinned to her sides. “Face the facts, Trouble. You’ve just been put in protective custody, and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.”

Jenny tossed her head so high her hair hit him in the face. “Protective custody? That’s a joke. Just what are you supposed to be protecting me from? Normal people? I hate to tell you this, Sheriff, but you don’t fall into that category.”

His smile came ever so slowly, crinkling his eyes, denting one cheek and glossing him over with a heavy dose of country charm. He leaned forward, putting his mouth close to her ear. “I’m protecting you from yourself,” he said softly. “I hate to break this to you, but you’re not exactly normal, either.”

Jenny swallowed painfully, rubbing hard on her neck where his breath had tickled her. She really didn’t like anyone this close to her, invading her personal space and making her stomach feel as if a fist had grabbed hold of it. There was a disturbing warmth in his eyes, radiating through her skin and bones, heating her up way down inside. Instinctively she tried to back away, only to come up hard against an unyielding police car. “Thank you for your honesty. Now tell me how much it’s going to cost me to get out of this motorcycle license thing. That’s what you want, right? Some kind of bail money?”

That’s not at all what I want, Tyler thought. But aloud he said, “I’m in such a good mood today, I’m willing to forgo the whole bail thing—on one condition.”

Jenny’s defensive little chin went up another notch. “Really? And what might that be?”

Tyler grinned. “I hope you don’t think my interest in you is anything but official. I’m simply looking after your best interests. The road from here to Helena is murder if you’re not familiar with it, one switchback after another. Are you familiar with it?”

Immediately she replied, “Yes.”

“Liar. You wouldn’t make it ten miles on that road before you plopped yourself and that nuclear scooter in the river.”

“That’s my problem.”

Tilting his head thoughtfully, he slowly rocked up and down on the heels of his boots. “Well, now…that’s where you’re slightly confused. As a public official, I’m charged with the welfare of every man, woman, child and childlike woman in my jurisdiction. As long as you’re in this town, you’re my responsibility. In daylight the idea of you on that Harley is scary enough. But at night? No way are you leaving here tonight.”

For a moment Jenny felt queasy. She had the unnerving sensation of being out of control, caught like a mouse in a trap. Her freedom was more important to her than food, air or water. “You can’t force me to stay here overnight. You can’t force me to stay anywhere.”

“Not here in the parking lot,” he agreed. “That would be cruel and unusual punishment. You have two options, Trouble. You can check into the Cotton Tree Motor Lodge or you can stay in our little jail. I wouldn’t recommend the jail—the mattresses are like concrete. But the choice is yours. In the morning, after I give you a crash course on riding that Harley—no pun intended—you’ll be free to leave. I’m a friendly guy, remember? As long as you cooperate, I won’t even ticket you for not having a motorcycle license. See?” White teeth flashed. “I’m a very nice person.”

She held his eyes for a silent, simmering moment. “You are a very bad person,” she said, jabbing him in the chest with her finger. “This is blackmail, and you know it.”

“Pretty much.”

“And what’s more, you’re enjoying it.”

“Right on that one.” He grinned, deep grooves framing either side of his expressive mouth. “Can’t put one over on you, can I? Which will it be, Trouble? Jail or the Cotton Tree?”

Jenny’s hands slowly closed into fists at her side. She was trapped and she knew it, which made the situation even harder to swallow. Restraint suffocated her. Her cheeks were burning, but she never took her eyes away from his. “All right,” she snapped. “I’ll check into the Cotton Tree like a good little hostage. But come morning I’m out of here.”

“Thank you so much,” Tyler said, hand over his heart. “May I open the door for you?”

“What about my bike?”

“I’ll have someone bring it over to the motel.” He adopted a wide-eyed cherub’s expression, which was enhanced by the tangled fringe of honey-bronzed hair beneath the brim of his hat. “In the morning, of course. I wouldn’t want you sneaking out of town tonight when I wasn’t looking. Motorcycle keys, please.”

“You don’t trust me?”

“Not at all. Keys?”

She retrieved the keys from her back pocket and slapped them into his waiting palm. “Do you mind if I get my duffel bag out of the storage compartment, or would you like to impound that, too?”

“Not at all.” Dimple in gear, an amused Tyler tossed the keys into the air and caught them. “I’ll be more than happy to get it for you. After you get in the car.”

Jenny pushed his hand away as he reached past her to open the door. She opened it herself, teeth ground together hard enough to make her jaw ache. Giving him one last murderous look, she climbed in, slamming the door shut with astonishing force from such a petite woman.

She didn’t see Tyler laughing. She couldn’t; he had his face buried in his arms on top of the car.

Tyler was a realist. He knew he definitely had his work cut out for him.

He braked for a stop sign and glanced sideways at his unhappy captive, raising his eyebrows as he noted the sullen set of her lower lip. Apparently, she didn’t think being arrested was romantic. She wasn’t talking, she wasn’t moving, he wasn’t even sure she was breathing. Such a defensive little soul.

“Try to remember this is for your own good,” he said cajolingly, trying to win a little smile. He’d never had trouble coaxing a smile from a woman. Until this woman.

Jenny sniffed disdainfully and slumped farther down in her seat. This was the first sign of life she’d shown since Tyler had started the car.

He tried again. “Bridal Veil Falls isn’t such a terrible place to spend the night, you know. It’s a nice little town.”

At that, she laughed out loud. “I’m sure. Although it should have been named Bride Falls on Her Head, like some creepy town in a Hitchcock movie.”

Tyler grinned, then took his right hand off the steering wheel, driving with his knee while he patted her shoulder. “Hey, don’t knock it till you’ve tried it. If you give it a chance, you’ll see that Bridal Veil Falls is a perfectly normal town. And who knows, you might like it so much you’ll decide to stay.”

“Yeah, right,” Jenny replied. Unsettled by Tyler’s casual touch, Jenny shifted away from him. “Now stop driving with your knee or I’ll make a citizen’s arrest.”

He put both hands back on the wheel, slanting her a quizzical look. “I’m just a wild and crazy guy, I guess. You don’t like to be touched, do you? Sorry. I was just trying to lighten the mood a little.”

“I can handle my own moods,” she muttered. “Since you’re keeping me here against my will, I’m sure you’ll understand if I don’t want to become bosom buddies.”

“Whatever you say.” He turned into the parking lot of the Cotton Tree Motor Lodge, pulling up in front of a lighted soft drink machine. He kept the car idling, giving her a look of blue-eyed innocence. “Seeing as how you don’t want to be friends, I won’t inflict myself on you further by going in with you to register.”

She gave him a look that said, “I didn’t ask you to,” then pushed open the door and climbed out. Slam. She opened the door to the back and pulled out her duffel bag. Slam. “For a little bit of a thing,” Tyler remarked through the open window, “You swing a mean car door.”

Ignoring him, she hoisted the strap of her duffel bag over her shoulder and headed for the office. A stinging-hot shower of resentment prickled at her from her head to her toes. She was staying in a place she didn’t want to stay, for no reason other than it suited the overbearing sheriff of Bridal Veil Falls. The man took his job way, way, way too seriously.

“Hey, Trouble. One more thing.”

She stopped, gritting her teeth as she slowly turned on her heel. “What?”

“Have a nice night. We aim to please here in Bride Falls on Her Head.” His tawny head was hanging out the window, hatless and backlit with the dying glow of sunset. He looked like an adorable Boy Scout trying to do a good deed, but she wasn’t fooled for a minute. “Let me know if you need anything.”

She gave him the most insincere smile of her life, followed by the most insincere statement of her life: “It’s been wonderful meeting you, Mr. Sheriff, sir.”

She turned and walked into the office without another word. She had a rhythm to her walk when she was irritated, a sassy little strut that she gave full rein to. Had she looked over her shoulder, she would have gotten yet another surprise.

Tyler Cook was smiling as if Heaven itself had just shown itself to him.

It was a typical motel room. The mattress was extra-firm, except in the middle where it was extrasoft. The pillows seemed to be made of plywood, and the air smelled strongly of disinfectant. The only window provided an aluminum frame for the blinking sign of the bowling alley across the street. Ritz Classic Bowl. Lounge, Leagues and Open Play. Plenty of Fun for Everyone!

Jenny sat on the bed like a zombie and watched the motel room change colors along with the bowling alley sign: red, yellow, green, red again. There was simply nothing else to do. She’d already showered, made a trip outside in her ratty chenille robe to the soft-drink machine for a cola, and watched an ancient rerun of Mr. Ed on television. It was barely eight o’clock, and she was wide awake and couldn’t sit still. Nights were especially hard for her. Everything seemed intensified when the world wound down, grew quiet and dark. Her restlessness. Her memories. That lonely, aching place called the future, always waiting for her. She took it one day at a time, but no matter how many days, months, years she crossed off, the future was always just as vast and just as empty. No matter how many tomorrows she put behind her, they never seemed to grow easier or less intimidating.

She needed to keep moving, and this motel room was not the place to do it. She liked to have her mind occupied with unfamiliar places, unfamiliar things, unfamiliar people. In fact, anything unfamiliar was oddly comforting. She never went to bed before midnight, anyway, and never slept more than three or four hours at a time. Regardless of how tired she was—and Lord knew tonight her muscles had no more strength than limp spaghetti—her soul perpetually resisted rest.

She stood up abruptly, dressing in a clean pair of jeans and a rather wrinkled white cotton peasant shirt pulled from her duffel bag. Five minutes later her still-damp hair was curling wildly in the breeze as she walked across the street to the bowling alley. The night air had a bite to it; she made a mental note to buy herself a warm coat before she left town in the morning. She was thinking about making a little detour into Canada for a couple of weeks. She’d never been there before, and she’d heard it was an incredibly beautiful country. Originally she’d had vague plans of wandering down south to the warmer climes of New Mexico and visiting an artist’s colony she’d heard about, but she could always do that later. Plans were made to be broken, especially hers. Spending the night in Bride Falls on Her Head wasn’t the end of the world. She had to sleep somewhere, so there was no point getting all worked up about it.

Or that’s what she told herself. Still, it was hard to ignore the raw nerves prickling under her skin. Ordinarily Jenny found it easier to be indifferent than offended, but there was something about Tyler Cook that jarred her senses, making them unusually acute. He was somehow different from other people she had met. He stood out from the blurred, forgettable crowd. It might have been the power of his tantalizing features, his perception or his sense of the absurd, but somehow she knew he was a man to be reckoned with. Jenny had no interest in reckoning with any man. Besides, in some secret corner of her mind, she knew she would come up short in a confrontation with him. He’d proved it once already, and she wasn’t going to give him the opportunity to do it again. No, she told herself. I won’t think about the square-jawed man with the devil in his blue eyes. And that’s the end of it.

She walked through the doors of the bowling alley into an explosion of light, laughter and deafening sound. The confusion and noise had a soothing effect on her, distracting her from her thoughts. She took a seat at the snack bar, a good vantage point from which to observe the good citizens of Bridal Veil Falls on a high-flying Friday night.

The lanes were all full, which didn’t really surprise her. There couldn’t be too much to do in a town this size. There were several teenage boys with their dates, a half dozen men in orange bowling shirts in league play and a few families bowling together. Everyone wore gosh-awful red-and-green bowling shoes. Jenny’s gaze skimmed the laughing children and parents without focusing on individuals. Years of long experience had taught her that some things were better avoided.

Still, there was something about the young family bowling in the nearest lane to her that caught and held her attention. Two chubby little boys wearing matching yellow sweatshirts and baggy, blue-striped shorts were working as a team, huffing and puffing as they lugged a heavy bowling ball halfway down the lane. There they dropped it into the gutter with a resounding thud and turned around to accept their parents’ applause. The little boys’ blue eyes were shining like sequins.

Twins.

Try as she might, Jenny was unable to tear her gaze away from those identical, adorable snub-nosed faces. They couldn’t be more than three or four years old. Their hair was the same white-blond shade as the young woman’s seated at the scoring desk—eye-catching and unusual.

Happy with their achievement, the little boys laughed and shuffled their way back to their seats in bowling shoes twice the size of their feet. Jenny saw that the laces were undone, dragging behind them on the ground. Their noses were both peeling with sunburn and each sported a Band-Aid on one knee. That was the way it was with twins. What happened to one always seemed to happen to the other.

No. Not always.

The inward voice cut through Jenny’s thoughts like the blade of a knife. She shivered, biting down hard on her lip. It was time to concentrate on something else, anything else, the first thing that came to mind…

“Tyler, double-knot their shoelaces, will you? They won’t stay tied.”

Hearing the instructions from the twins’ mommy, directed at the man sitting on the bench with his back to her, Jenny’s gaze stretched. The man had unmistakable hair, glittering with rainbow shades of dark gold and warm bronze. Unmistakable shoulders, filling out every inch of a well-washed blue chambray shirt. He slid off the bench, going down on one knee to tie shoelaces. Jenny saw a Greek god profile and a lean, law-abiding jaw. Unmistakably Sheriff Tyler Cook.

Good grief, he was the daddy. His resemblance to those little boys was amazing.

For a stunned moment Jenny couldn’t draw air into her lungs. It had never occurred to her that the irritating enforcer of the law might be married, though she couldn’t say exactly why. It might have been the way he teased her with those come-hither, beach-boy-blue eyes. Married men weren’t supposed to flirt. They weren’t supposed to smile the way he had smiled at her, showing off his boyish dimples and his cowboy country charm. He had deliberately misled her, that’s what he had done.

If looks could kill, Sheriff Cook would have met a nasty end right there on the paisley commercial carpeting at the Ritz Classic Bowl. He must have felt the daggers shooting into his back from the snack bar. He suddenly turned his head and looked directly at Jenny. She didn’t have time to turn away, she didn’t have time to compose her expression. They locked gazes, and he had the bloody nerve to send her one of his quizzical, blistering smiles. He saw her shock but showed absolutely no sign of embarrassment.

A single thought came to Jenny—there had been way too many intrusive emotions for one day. It was time to/turn off. She felt as if she were shrinking, separating from all the lights and noise around her, withdrawing into a well-guarded, secret cocoon. She shot off the bar stool as if it were made of red-hot coals. Hands pushed deep in her pockets, she plowed through the bowling alley with her determined gaze focused on the exit doors. Someone had spilled popcorn on the carpet; she could hear it crunching beneath her feet. Her peripheral vision caught a flash of blue as Tyler moved in her direction. Swallowing hard, she quickened her stride to a jog, but he caught up with her a good twenty feet before she reached the doors. Naturally. She had him pegged as the type who always got his man, even when his man was a woman.

He parked his tall body directly in front of her, putting an end to her flight for freedom. His smile was wide, brash and unabashedly cheerful. “If it isn’t my old friend, Trouble. This is about the last place I expected you to wander into.”

Jenny thought about his little family not fifty feet away, happy and oblivious to his true nature. Her blood simmered. “I’m sure it is. It must have been quite a surprise for you.”

“I like surprises,” he said. “I always have. That’s what makes ordinary life interesting—all the little, unexpected things. Besides, you just saved me a trip to the motel. I was about to go over and check on you. I had this nagging feeling you might try and skip town on me.” He put his hand on her arm to stop her as she tried to duck around him. “What’s your hurry? You seem awfully anxious to get through that door. I’m being nice. I haven’t tried to arrest you once.”

“The night is young,” Jenny muttered, using two fingers to remove his hand from her arm. “Don’t worry, Sheriff. I gave you my word that I’ll stick around until tomorrow morning, like a good little prisoner.”

“There’s that touching thing again,” Tyler commented, his mouth tucking thoughtfully to one side. “Is it just me you’re allergic to, or all human contact?”

She looked into this stranger’s eyes, rattled by the shadowed glimpse of compassion there. Insight, understanding, communication…she wasn’t interested in any of the above. Warning bells erupted in her head, much louder than the commotion of the bowling alley. She opened her mouth to toss back a careless, flippant remark—she was very good at that—but to her surprise, her mind remained stubbornly blank. Her fingers plucked restlessly at the gauzy fabric of her shirt, knowing that her momentary confusion was obvious.

“Just an observation,” Tyler said, a different tone in his voice. Ever so briefly he touched the back of his knuckles to her uplifted chin. His lips carried the faintest hint of a smile. “See? That didn’t hurt so much, did it? Relax. When I’m not in uniform, I hardly ever bite.”

His hand was right back at his side where it belonged, but Jenny could still feel the unsettling, gentle brush of his touch. If they turned out the lights in the bowling alley, the imprint would probably glow in the dark. Sheriff Cook seemed to have a radioactive force field. “I’ll take your word for it.”

“Really?” His eyes were smiling as he pursed his lips and whistled softly. “No argument or snappy comeback? I’m impressed.”

“Wonderful. Since meeting you, I’ve wanted nothing more to impress you. Haven’t you noticed?” Looking over his shoulder, she saw three blond heads turned curiously in their direction. Something changed in her voice. “You’re holding up the game and you’re delaying my departure. You better get back to your bowling ball.”

He tipped his head sideways, a casual, nonthreatening, good-buddy sort of expression on his face. His taffy-colored hair drifted around his forehead in the smoky, fluorescent lights. “Why?”

“Why?” She gave him a peculiar look. “Because that’s what people do in places like this. They roll bowling balls. Good old-fashioned family fun.” She put an unmistakable emphasis on family.

Amazingly, it didn’t even faze him. “No,” he said patiently, “I meant, why are you leaving? You just got here, and I’m pretty sure you don’t have a date tonight or have plans to wash your hair or something. So why the hurry?”

Jenny couldn’t understand his persistence. His wife and children were within shouting distance and still he smiled with that brilliant, imperturbable gaze fastened on her. “Bowling alleys are kind of tame for a dangerous hell-raiser like myself. Besides, I don’t think your wife and children should be exposed to the criminal element.” There, she thought. Chew on that one for a while, Gladiator.

But instead of flushing, Tyler’s expression went oddly blank. “Who? My what? Oh Lord, don’t wish that on me.” He actually shivered. “She’s my sister. I’m here with my sister. I came along to protect everyone else from those miniature pit bulls of hers. They’re proof positive that big things come in small packages.”

The tight little fist that had been clamped on Jenny’s stomach relaxed a bit. Not his wife, not his children. There went her hopeful perception of him as a two-timing Lothario. He would have been much easier to deal with had his character been less than sterling. Now he was a thoughtful and considerate man who chaperoned his sister and her children to the bowling alley on a Friday night. This was horrible. “Whatever,” she muttered, her cheeks burning bright as she tried to ignore the lazy amusement sparkling in his eyes. “It’s certainly very sheriff-like of you, protecting all these helpless bowlers from those terrifying little boys. I’m surprised you’re not wearing a gun.”

His gaze slowly traveled the length of her, while his damnable, sweetly teasing smile played with his lips. “Who says I’m not wearing my gun? It always pays to be—”

“It’s past my bedtime,” Jenny said abruptly, manufacturing a wide yawn. “Way past. We hell-raisers need a lot of sleep to keep us in tip-top condition. Happy bowling, Sheriff.”

But when she tried once more to leave, he did a quick sidestep and once more prevented her from escaping. The man was very quick on his feet. “I make you nervous, don’t I?”

She stepped to the left; he stepped right along with her. Exasperated, Jenny folded her arms over her chest and threw up her determined little chin, looking him straight in the eyes. “Too much coffee makes me nervous,” she said. “Motorcycles that are possessed by the devil make me nervous. Clogged toilets, split ends and ingrown toenails make me nervous. And that just about covers it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m putting an end to our wonderful conversation.”

But then came a new voice into the wonderful conversation: “Heavens to Betsy, if this doesn’t do my little heart good.”

It was Tyler’s sister, slipping up beside him and tucking her hand into the crook of his arm. She looked like an all-American Thoroughbred, with long legs encased in tight white jeans and a cloud of baby-fine ivory hair pulled away from the sides of her face with tortoiseshell combs. A black-and-white-checkered shirt was tucked into a narrow leather belt, emphasizing the smallest waist Jenny had ever seen. She wore absolutely no makeup at all, just the healthy glow of a sun-kissed complexion. She looked to be no more than eighteen years old, which would have made her—what?—around fifteen years old when she had her children? Saints alive. They seemed to start their families early here in Bridal Veil Falls.

She smiled at Jenny with mischievous blue eyes, the unusual, crystalline color identical to Tyler’s. “Usually Ty has the most predictable effect on women. They make goo-goo eyes and pant and slip him phone numbers, but they never, ever brush him off like you just did. Obviously, you’re a woman to be reckoned with. I’m going to like you.”

“Rosie’s very shy,” Tyler said. “Can you tell? Go away, Rosie.”

Rosie continued with her breathless chatter, happily oblivious to her brother’s ominous scowl. “He told me he had arrested Julia Roberts this afternoon. Now I see what he meant. You resemble her, you really do.”

“What do I have to do to get rid of you?” Tyler asked his sister. His smile was gone. Completely. “Can’t you just be cooperative for once in your life?”

“I’ve been trying to get rid of you for six years,” Rosie scoffed, dismissing him with an airy hand. “Still you insist on continuing with the overbearing brother routine. I’ve learned from the best, and I will not be ordered around.” She turned back to Jenny with a lavish, approving smile. “Where were we? Oh, yes, Julia Roberts. You really are lovely, really. No wonder Tyler told me he was—”

“Go bowl, Rosie,” Tyler snapped. A light of panic flashed in his blue, blue eyes.

“—going to keep you,” Rosie said brightly.