Читать книгу Four-Karat Fiancee - Sharon Swan - Страница 12

There, it was out, what she’d kept to herself for days.

And having shared it with someone, Amanda had to concede that she felt better. True, she’d never expected to share it with the man who continued to stare down at her. Not any more than she’d expected to find him in her living room. In fact, if anyone had told her that morning that she’d be tending to Dev Devlin’s wounds before the day was over, she would have questioned their sanity. Just as he’d looked ready to question hers moments ago.

“Technically,” he said as his expression settled into more thoughtful lines, “that means you have some half sisters and brothers.”

“Yes,” she agreed, “but, to me, it’s one and the same. My father also fathered them, and even if I never saw them face-to-face, I’d still feel there’s nothing ‘half’ about our relationship.”

“Hmm. I suppose you’ve got a point.” He walked over and eased himself down on the other end of the sofa. “Do you plan on seeing them?”

The answer to that one, Amanda recognized, was far more complicated than a simple “yes,” even assuming he’d be satisfied with a single-word reply. She hadn’t missed the probing look accompanying his question. Still, she only had to tell him what she wanted to, and logic prompted her to consider the benefits of discussing as much as she felt comfortable doing. After all, she’d already discovered how a small weight could be lifted from her shoulders by sharing some information.

“I do plan on seeing them,” she replied at last. “In fact, ever since I learned about them days ago, I’ve been determined to at least do that much.”

“I take it,” he said, “that up until then you didn’t know about them at all.”

“Not until I received a phone call from an attorney who not only told me they existed, but that they were orphans and wards of the state.”

It took him less than a minute to absorb that information. “Which means your father is…” His voice trailed off as his expression sobered.

Although Amanda’s throat tightened, she was determined not to shed any more tears. “Yes, I was told that he passed away a year ago in Minnesota.”

“I’m sorry.” The words were simply spoken but seemed completely genuine.

“Thank you,” she said.

And that was all she would say on the subject of her father’s death, the details of which she had no intention of discussing with him, or anyone else in Jester. The town’s longtime residents already had memories of Sherman Bradley, and one of them was hardly flattering. They didn’t need to know everything.

As if he had no trouble recalling that less-than-flattering episode in her family’s history, Dev said, “So after your father, ah, left Jester, he went to Minnesota?”

“You mean after he ran off with Rita Winslow, his attractive young co-worker at the savings and loan,” she corrected, deciding to be candid about what they both knew was the blunt truth of the matter. “Yes, they apparently chose to put some distance between themselves and this town.” In the process, they’d left her and probably most everyone in Jester in a state of shock, Amanda remembered. Up until a few days after her fifteenth birthday, her always dapperly dressed father had been a well-respected accountant, one many considered the image of the ideal family man. Then, just like that, he was gone.

In the months that followed, her mother had filed for a divorce on the grounds of desertion, and five years later Mary Bradley had quietly passed away after a short illness with only her daughter, who’d made a hasty trip back from college, at her side.

“Eventually,” Amanda said, forging on with her story, “my father and Rita Winslow were married, and years later when she found herself a widow, Rita returned to Pine Run, where she was born and raised, even though she had no family left in the area.” Just twenty miles away, Amanda reflected, but she’d had no idea that the larger town southwest of Jester had once again become home to her father’s second wife.

“With Rita,” she continued, “came the children she and my father had brought into the world. A girl who’s now seven years old, two boys now five and four, and another girl, only a baby really, who’s eighteen months old.”

Dev stretched out his long legs and stacked one booted foot over the other. “Sounds as though they waited a while to have kids.”

Amanda nodded, acknowledging the truth of that. After all, fifteen years had passed since Sherman Bradley had disappeared in the middle of the night with his suitcases packed and a brief note left behind to say he wasn’t coming back.

“And then,” she said, “they had four children in fairly rapid succession.”

“Children you referred to earlier as orphans,” he reminded her, “which has to mean that their mother is gone, too.”

“I’m afraid so.” She released a quiet breath. “After Rita returned to Pine Run, she took a job in a local lawyer’s office. When that same lawyer phoned to tell me about my father and the children, he also said that Rita had been killed in an automobile accident over a month ago. As her employer, he’d volunteered to go through her papers to help settle her estate, and that was when he discovered a copy of my parents’ final divorce decree, which my father must have obtained at some point from the district court. Along with it were some small school photos of me he’d apparently taken with him. They were bound together with an old newspaper article in the Pine Run Plain Talker mentioning that Amanda Bradley, a Jester resident, had been one of the winners in a spelling contest.”

“And that’s how the lawyer found you.” He shook his head. “He’d never have found me if he’d had to rely on my winning any spelling contests.”

Which, Dev thought as Amanda only met that rueful remark with silence, had a lot less to do with intelligence than the fact that there had been a time when he’d seldom applied the brains he had. He’d been too busy raising hell on a regular basis. But that had all changed.

“I take it,” he said, “that you’re going to Pine Run to see the kids.”

Her gaze didn’t waver. “Yes, but beyond just seeing them, there’s a hearing scheduled at the offices of Child and Family Services next Tuesday, and I plan on doing my best to convince the authorities to place the children in my care.”

Well, she had guts to even consider taking on that kind of responsibility. He couldn’t deny that. “Think you’ll be successful?”

Her sudden sigh was long and heartfelt. “I wish I could say so with any certainty, but it may turn out to be an uphill battle if I can’t convince the authorities that I have enough resources to make it the most appealing solution.”

Resources. At least a part of that, Dev figured, had to translate to money, which he now had the ability to supply with little trouble. Of course, that also applied to several other people who’d shared in the lottery. Then again, even though Amanda could count at least a few of those newly wealthy as her friends, she wouldn’t be asking anyone for anything, not unless her back was flat against the wall. He’d be willing to bet on that as a sure thing, because past experience had already gone a long way to show she could be as mule-headed as anybody he’d ever met. If he was right, the last thing she’d do was ask for financial help.

But that wouldn’t be necessary in his case. Given that she had something he wanted, they could make a fair trade.

It was so damn simple…if he could talk her into it.

“If finances are a problem,” he said, keeping his tone mild, “we can solve it here and now. I’m ready to make you a decent enough offer for the bookstore property that you could open another one somewhere else in town and probably still have a healthy profit left over.”

Her chin went up. An automatic response? Dev wondered. Either that or his reviving a sore subject had teed her off all over again. Noting that the color had returned to her face, he wouldn’t have been surprised to see her stalk over the door, wrench it open and firmly suggest he waste no time in leaving. But she didn’t.

All at once it seemed far too quiet as seconds ticked by. At last, Amanda broke the silence. “I’ll…think about letting you make me that offer.”

Dev resisted the urge to heave a gusty sigh. Maybe, just maybe, he told himself, he would finally be able to put an end, once and for all, to the continual friction between them. “All right,” he said in the most businesslike tone he could muster, “you can let me know what you decide.”

With that, he got up. “I’ll take off now.” He strode to the chair, retrieved his hat and settled it on his head.

Amanda stood as he pulled on his jacket. “I probably won’t have an answer for you until after the hearing on Tuesday. And I’m not,” she added candidly, “at all sure what it will be.”

If she was telling him not to get his hopes up, Dev knew it was too late. Not that he considered the whole thing anywhere near a done deal, but she’d agreed to think about it, and right now he was counting himself lucky for that much.

“I’ll drop by the bookstore after you get back from Pine Run,” he told her.

She arched a wry eyebrow. “Well, that will be a definite switch. You haven’t exactly been one of my best customers.”

“You haven’t been one of mine, either,” he reminded her with a wry look of his own as he started to turn toward the door. Then his denim-clad thigh brushed against an edge of the shoulder bag resting on the end table and toppled it over. He dropped down to grab it before it hit the floor.

“I’ll take it,” Amanda said, stepping forward.

He straightened and absently handed the bag over, his attention already captured by the book that had been exposed, one featuring a bold cover he now had no trouble making out. “Midnight Passions,” he murmured, reading the title. He glanced at Amanda. “I usually favor the newspaper when it comes to keeping up on things, but I’ve got to admit that your choice in reading material seems…interesting.”

Ignoring that dry comment, she tossed her purse on the chair and stepped past him to head for the door. Although she didn’t wrench it open, she didn’t linger over it, either.

“Good night,” she told him, oh-so-politely.

“Good night,” he replied, matching her tone. “Happy reading,” he added as he walked out, tossing that short statement over his shoulder. The only reply he got was the sound of the door snapping shut. Dev had to grin. Even if it made his cut lip burn like a son of a gun, it was worth it.

He’d finally had the last word with Amanda Bradley.

THE DRIVE TO Pine Run gave Amanda more than enough time to think about several things. Nevertheless, again and again, her thoughts drifted back to Dev Devlin. Could she really sell her share of the building to him? Could she give in at last?

A firm answer to that question continued to elude her as she followed a curve in the two-lane highway cutting a path through the rolling hills that flowed like gentle waves over the eastern part of Montana. She remembered her first sight of the area when she was eight years old and a new arrival from the far flatter plains of the central Midwest. To her, the hills had been mountains, and the town of Jester, with its long Western history, almost a small piece of another world.

Soon after she and her parents had moved into the house Amanda now owned, they’d walked over to Main Street to see the place where her father would be starting his new job. Back then, she hadn’t so much as considered the possibility that she would one day open a bookstore only steps from the old brick building that was home to Jester Savings and Loan.

That was the same sunny summer day she’d seen Dev Devlin for the very first time, she couldn’t help but recall, and even to her pre-adolescent eyes, he’d been a memorable sight when she’d passed him on the sidewalk just doors down from the Heartbreaker Saloon. She’d never expected him, or any teenage boy, to notice her.

Yet he had, giving her a slow smile as their eyes met for a brief moment—a smile she’d done her best to return in her own shy fashion. Then he’d continued on his way, swaggering just a bit in his threadbare T-shirt and battered jeans, and she’d thought that maybe she’d made an acquaintance in town, if not a real friend.

But that was before her young ears had picked up on some pointed comments about the local “bad boy.”

“That Devlin kid,” a longtime Jester resident had contended within Amanda’s hearing, “is primed to go down the same road as the rest of his shiftless family.”

“Any girl who gets involved with him is just plain looking for trouble,” someone else had said.

Having spent most of her brief life being a “good girl” in an effort to please the father she adored, Amanda had taken those comments to heart and given the bad boy a wide berth. Only after she’d returned to Jester as a full-grown woman had she felt ready to take on the man Dev Devlin had become.

The undeniable truth that she’d done it, had taken on both him and his rowdy saloon, made it ever harder to consider selling out to him now. Could she really give in? Amanda wondered yet again.

Yes, she finally decided, releasing a long breath. She not only could do it, she would do it…if the fate of four children depended on it.

Which it just might, Amanda told herself as she swung her gray compact into the parking lot of the brown brick building housing the local division of Child and Family Services. She’d know soon enough what had to be done, she more than suspected. The fact that she still hadn’t shared the news about her sisters and brothers with anyone besides Dev Devlin by no means meant that she’d considered for even one minute backing off on her plan to do everything possible to further her chances of being allowed to provide a home for her newfound relatives.

With that goal still firmly in mind, she straightened the fitted jacket of her cream-colored wool suit and tried to look every inch the competent and responsible woman as she entered a small reception area. There, she met the Pine Run attorney who had stunned her down to her toes when he’d phoned her after being somewhat surprised himself to learn that she existed.

“Pleased to meet you, my dear,” Clarence Whipple told her in the courtly fashion of a silver-haired man probably close to seventy. Short of stature and built along thin lines, he wore a three-piece, pin-striped suit with comfortable ease, as though he’d been born into the legal profession. “I know this must be a very important day for you.”

“It is,” Amanda agreed as they shook hands.

Clarence pulled a small envelope from his well-worn briefcase. “I have the school photos and newspaper article that initially led me to you. I thought you would like to have them.” He gave the sealed envelope to Amanda. “I also took the liberty of including a recent snapshot of your half siblings, one of several I came across.”

She put the envelope in her shoulder bag. “That was very kind of you. I know I must have sounded astonished when you first called me.”

“Yes, you could say that,” he murmured with a trace of wry humor before his expression settled into more serious lines. “I was pleased to be able to tell you about the children, even though I also had the regrettable task of conveying the information that your father had passed away—and under somewhat, er, unfortunate circumstances.”

Yes, those circumstances had definitely been unfortunate, Amanda thought. She had to appreciate Clarence Whipple’s tact in giving the matter no more than a mere mention now. “How difficult do you think it will be for me to get custody?”

The lawyer met her gaze. “I can only say that, on one hand, your being the closest relative still living will work in your favor. On the other hand, a drawback is the fact that you’re single, and placement with a married couple is usually preferred. I believe the outcome will depend on whether we can convince the authorities that putting the children in your care is the most satisfactory solution for them.”

Amanda nodded. “Before things get started, can you tell me more about what their mother was like?” It was something she’d found herself wondering about more than once during the last several days, since she only had the barest memories of the woman who had become her father’s second wife. A tall, full-figured blonde with a ready smile for visitors to Jester Savings and Loan was how Amanda remembered Rita Winslow.

“She applied for a position in my office soon after returning to Montana,” Clarence said. “My first impression was that Rita had changed from the young, and I suppose I have to say somewhat flighty, woman I recalled from her earlier days in Pine Run. Rather than skirting the issue, as some might have been inclined to do, she was forthright about the details of her life in Minnesota and how she’d become a widow there. When she went on to candidly admit that she needed a job to support her children, I decided to take her on for a probationary period to see how things went. As it happened, she turned out to be a good worker, and I came to like her more than enough to be both shocked and saddened by the accident that took her life.”

“Thank goodness the children weren’t with her in the car,” Amanda had to say, having already learned during the initial phone conversation with the lawyer that Rita had been on her way to pick them up at a baby-sitter’s house after work when she’d apparently hit an icy patch in the road.

“Mr. McFadden is ready to see you now,” the young brunette acting as receptionist told them. “His office is just down the hall, first door on the right.”

They followed directions, and in a matter of seconds Amanda met Haynes McFadden, supervisor of the local division. The long and lean man with a balding head rimmed by sandy hair in turn introduced a middle-aged woman occupying one of the visitor’s chairs set in front of a modern oak desk. “This is Louise Pearson, one of our longtime and most dedicated employees. Mrs. Pearson is currently handling the Bradley case.”

That name got Amanda’s attention in a hurry. Although they’d never met face-to-face before, she knew that Louise Pearson was no stranger to Jester. In fact, she’d been the social worker involved in the case of a baby left in the Brimming Cup coffee shop shortly after Amanda’s good friend Shelly Dupree—now Shelly O’Rourke with her recent marriage—had become one of the big jackpot winners. Although the episode had ended happily with the mother’s eventual return to claim her child, Amanda had no trouble recalling how Louise had been described as a person to be reckoned with.

As if to prove it, the woman with dark brown hair well-threaded with gray and pulled back in a neat bun, rose to her feet and squared sturdily built shoulders covered by a plain navy suit. Her sharp hazel eyes met Amanda’s gaze head-on.

“I have the children waiting to meet you in another room,” Louise said, her tone brisk. “I’ve already explained the relationship to them, but I’m sure they still have questions. It might be better if you took a few minutes to get acquainted before we come back here for a more private discussion of the details of your situation.”

Well, this was it, Amanda thought. She drew in a steadying breath. “All right.”

“I’ll wait for you here,” Clarence told her as he lowered himself into a visitor’s chair. Again he was being tactful, and Amanda had to be grateful one more time. It would be hard enough, she suspected, to keep her composure without an audience around.

At a gestured invitation, Amanda followed Louise across the room toward a side door. The older woman paused with one hand on the knob and glanced back at Amanda. “Before we go in, I think it would be wise to get something straight. The bottom line with me is that I want what’s best for these children.”

Recognizing the truth underscoring that straightforward statement, Amanda replied, “So do I.”

Louise studied her for a moment. “I’m glad to find we agree on that.” And with those words, she opened the door.

Stepping through it, Amanda found herself in a narrow conference room. At its center stood an oval-shaped oak table currently covered with a variety of coloring books and crayons, and seated around it were the children who had already made a permanent place for themselves in Amanda’s mind.

Now, watching as four pairs of brown eyes stared back at her—eyes so much like her father’s…and like her own—Amanda felt the impact of that sight hit her straight in the heart. Her sisters and brothers, she thought. On the day each was born, they had become a part of her, and she a part of them.

“Hello,” she said, summoning the brightest smile she could.

It won her a smile in turn from the smallest person in the room, a little charmer with a chubby-cheeked face framed by tiny golden curls. In contrast, the other children, all with hair as short, blond and curly as their youngest sibling, merely continued to stare.

Louise formally introduced them, although Amanda already knew the basics regarding their names and ages. Seven-year-old Liza was the eldest. Like her younger brothers, Caleb and Patrick, she was as slender as a reed. Only eighteen-month-old Betsy was more round than slim. All were dressed in a colorful mix of well-worn cotton pants and long-sleeved T-shirts.

Amanda pulled out a padded oak chair and took a seat next to Liza, who held Betsy in her lap. “I’m so happy to meet you.” She let her gaze connect with each of the children as she looked around the table. “I’m Amanda, your—” she had to swallow against a sudden tightness before she got it out “—big sister.”

“Amadaba,” Betsy said, offering another smile.

“I guess it is quite a mouthful,” Amanda admitted with a slight curve of her lips. “How about if you all call me Mandy?” No one except her parents had ever used that name, but at the moment it seemed undeniably right.

“Mandeee!” Betsy declared, clapping her tiny hands.

“Yes, you’ve got it,” Amanda told the pint-size girl.

“She’s very smart,” Liza offered in a small voice that nonetheless held more than a hint of pride.

Amanda nodded. “I don’t doubt that for a minute. In fact, I wouldn’t be a bit amazed if you’re all smart.”

“Why?” That question came from five-year-old Caleb, who sat across the table.

“Because our father was a very smart man.” Which was no more than pure fact, Amanda reflected with assurance. It would have been surprising if anyone had ever contended that Sherman Bradley was less than intelligent. No, whatever his weaknesses had been, they couldn’t be blamed on any lack of brainpower.

“So we got the same daddy,” Patrick, the youngest boy at four, summed up with a solemn look. “And now he’s in heaven, with my mommy.”

Tears pricked at Amanda’s eyes, but she refused to give in to them. These children, she told herself, didn’t need any more tears in their lives. What they needed was someone to love them.

And she did. There was simply no question about that. The sheer truth was that she’d fallen head over heels at her very first sight of them. “I know you’ve all been through a bad time, but there are better things ahead.”

“Like what?” Caleb wanted to know, a small glint of what might have been hope gleaming in his gaze.

Amanda knew she had to pick her words carefully. She couldn’t tell them they would have a home with her. Not yet. “Well, for one thing, you get to live in Montana.” It was as enthusiastic a statement as she could make it. “You know, not too far west of where we are now there are mountains so tall they almost seem to touch the sky, and rivers that run so fast the fish don’t even have to swim—the water just pushes them along.”

Both boys smiled at that while Betsy clapped again. Only Liza continued to fix Amanda with a wary stare.

“Do cowboys live there?” Caleb asked, seeming to be the most curious of the group.

“Not only there, but all over this state,” Amanda told him. “They wear wide-brimmed hats with straight-legged jeans and shirts with shiny snaps down the front.” All of which described the Western-style clothing the Heartbreaker Saloon’s owner favored.

Abruptly an image formed in Amanda’s mind, one she ousted in the next breath. She didn’t want to think about Dev Devlin and the fact that he’d probably waste little time in tracking her down when she returned to Jester. He’d no doubt be champing at the bit to learn if she was going to let him make her an offer for her property. And she was, she knew, if it would mean keeping these children out of a foster home run by strangers.

“I wanna be a cowboy,” Patrick said, regaining her attention.

“Me be cabboy!” Betsy tossed in.

Amanda had to laugh. “Well, I don’t see why you can’t all be cowboys—and cowgirls.” She looked at Liza. “Would you like to be high on a horse’s back riding herd on a bunch of cattle?”

The girl shook her head, her expression still sober. “That’s just make-believe.”

“Not necessarily,” Louise countered in a soft tone, entering the conversation from where she stood near the door. The social worker didn’t look quite as formidable when she spoke to the eldest Bradley child. “Sometimes make-believe can come true.”

Although Liza said nothing in response, she looked far from ready to agree with that concept.

Louise redirected her gaze toward Amanda, and once again her voice turned brisk. “I think it’s time to let the children color some more pictures while we talk.”

No, it’s too soon for me to leave them, Amanda wanted to say. And didn’t. Rising, she again smiled down at her newfound relatives. “Goodbye for now,” she said.

“Bye-bye,” Betsy offered with a little wave.

Amanda’s smiled slipped as she struggled for her composure. Then she waved in return and headed for the door Louise held open for her. All she could think was that, no matter what it took, she had to convince the authorities that she was the right choice to care for four orphaned children. Somehow, she had to do that.

She had to.

DEV FIGURED he was pushing things when he walked into Ex-Libris the following morning, but the plain truth was that he’d had a hard time telling himself to wait at least a couple of days after Amanda returned from Pine Run before he learned how she’d made out. After their earlier conversation, he was just too optimistic to hold back.

With any luck, he thought, she’d tell him that her plan to gain custody was proceeding smoothly enough that all she needed was a hefty contribution to her bank account to seal the deal. Yeah, if good fortune was on his side, it wouldn’t be long until he’d be expanding his business while she relocated hers, and everyone would come out a winner.

Dev glanced around him, not much surprised to find the bookstore empty. It was still early, at least by Main Street standards. More than a few storeowners would just be starting their day. The Ex-Libris’s owner had to be around somewhere, though, he reflected as he walked toward a small sitting area at the rear of the store. And, sure enough, that’s where he found her, seated on one of a pair of burgundy leather love seats. Today she wore another of her tailored blouses with pleated wool trousers and was gazing down at something she held in one hand. As far as he could make out, it was a small photograph.

“Good morning,” he said as he came to a halt inches from a low, bowlegged mahogany table covered with a lacey white cloth. It wasn’t yet loaded with the homemade pastries Gwen Tanner would probably be delivering soon. Gwen was another Big Draw lottery winner and no longer needed to sell her baked goods to supplement the income coming in from her boarding house, but he’d heard that she continued to supply the bookstore, anyway.

Certainly Amanda Bradley looked as though she could use something to tempt her appetite and maybe perk her up a bit. No, a lot, Dev amended on closer inspection. For the second time in less than a week, she seemed to bear little resemblance to the stubborn female who’d regularly raked him over the coals.

“Good morning,” she replied, finally returning his greeting as she glanced up at him. She set the snapshot she’d been holding down on the table.

Dev got a better gander at it as he eased himself into one of the twin burgundy chairs that matched the love seats. Four curly-haired, towheaded kids grinned at the camera in a scene that featured a small Christmas tree in the background along with a few presents that looked freshly unwrapped. Apparently the kids hadn’t gotten a lot from Santa on that particular Christmas morning, but they looked happy enough with what they had. One thing for sure, their expressions were a lot more enthusiastic than Amanda’s.

“Things didn’t go well in Pine Run,” he said, deciding to cut to the chase as he stacked an ankle on a denim-clad knee and reached up to thumb back his Stetson.

“No.” She let out a thin sigh. “I tried everything I could think of to make them see the advantages of placing the children with me, but…”

“But they didn’t go for it,” he finished when her voice drifted off.

“And I don’t for the life of me know what I could have done differently.” All at once she raised a small fist and slapped it down on a plump cushion, displaying a hint of the temper he was more familiar with. “Oh, they were impressed that I owned a home, free and clear. They also appreciated the fact that I had a buyer not only ready but eager to purchase another piece of property, which would increase my immediate income.” The last came out with a wry twist of her lips and a meaningful look aimed his way. “But in the end they felt my sisters and brothers needed, and I quote, ‘a more stable environment than a single caretaker could provide.”’

“That’s a tough one,” he said, keeping his voice low.

“And then—” She leaned her head against the back of the love seat and studied the high ceiling. “And then they went on to say that the children would be placed into permanent foster care. All except the youngest, they told me oh-so-reasonably. Betsy’s only eighteen months old, so she would mostly likely be put up for adoption.”

“Jeez,” Dev muttered under his breath, watching as Amanda let out another, almost soundless, sigh.

“I can’t believe they’ll be separated.” How she felt on that score was as plain as the grim bleakness in her tone. “I’d give anything—do anything—to be able to change what’s about to happen to them.”

But what the hell more could she give? Dev asked himself, his own temper flaring at what seemed liked the injustice of it all. What did a bunch of bureaucrats expect her to do? As far as they were apparently concerned, a “single caretaker”—even one who owned a home and had a golden opportunity to add to her bank account—just didn’t fill the bill, and that was it.

So, being undeniably single, what was Amanda Bradley supposed to do? It was a devil of a problem, all right. And even with his money, he couldn’t help her solve it.

That’s not quite true, Devlin, something inside him said. There’s one thing you could do, but it would have to go a long way beyond getting out your checkbook.

Jolted by that thought, he made a stab at ignoring the voice rumbling in the back of his mind, only to find that he couldn’t block it out. Not any more than he could stop his gaze from again being drawn to the happy faces of four grinning kids—kids who just might be looking a long way from cheerful at the moment. He knew he’d have been a lot more successful in resisting the sight of those rosy-cheeked faces in his younger, wilder days. Back then, he’d had little trouble avoiding anything that didn’t involve his own immediate health and welfare.

But you changed when you decided to show Jester’s residents a thing or two by becoming a person they could respect, the niggling voice contended.

Dev drew in a long breath, admitting the truth of that. Even though he’d never had any desire to get tied up in town politics, these days he was by and large an upstanding citizen. But that didn’t mean the slate was wiped clean. Maybe he still had some private dues to pay for all the years when he mostly hadn’t given a damn about anyone except himself.

The man he’d once been would have scoffed at that notion. The man he’d become flat-out couldn’t.

Trouble was, Dev thought as he slowly lifted his gaze, the woman seated across from him might not hesitate to scoff. “In fact, she just might think I’m crazy if I even mention what I’m considering,” he muttered under his breath.

But the idea had taken hold, he couldn’t deny. Somehow, now that he’d latched on to it, it seemed pretty much the only thing to do. Which didn’t mean that he’d have a lot of choice except to let the whole business go if she did tell him he was crazy.

He just hoped to hell she didn’t laugh at him, because if she did, he was sure to start growling at her again and the truce they’d somehow managed to maintain for weeks would be history.

“It seems to me there might be a way to persuade the authorities to change their mind,” he said, picking his words carefully.

In response, Amanda continued to stare up at the ceiling. “I’ve been racking my brain ever since I left Family Services trying to come up with something. To me, it appears pretty hopeless, but if you’ve got a suggestion, I’m willing to hear it.”

He ran his tongue around his teeth, then just plunged in. “You could get married.”

That got her attention in a hurry. She abandoned the ceiling to stare at him. “I know we haven’t exactly been friendly since I came back to Jester and opened up my store, but most people here could probably pass along the news that I haven’t even been dating anyone lately. Believe me, there’s no husband on the horizon.”

“That could change,” he told her.

“Not anytime soon,” she countered.

“It could…if you married me.”