The Hero Next Door

At the same time, how in the world was she going to cope with a rebellious thirteen-year-old boy, who would no doubt be making this trip against his will?

As Heather gathered up her gardening tools, she caught a glimpse of the roof of the guest cottage in Edith’s backyard. And was suddenly reminded of the silent prayer she’d offered three days ago, asking God to give her something to think about besides the handsome cop.

She’d made a few other such prayers over the years. None had ever been answered, leaving her to conclude that the Almighty wasn’t on her wavelength.

Too bad He’d chosen now to tune her in, she thought with a sigh.

Forty-eight hours later, seated at a table in the noisy high-school gym, Heather was still having serious misgivings about agreeing to take her nephew. And after tossing and turning for the past two nights, she was in no mood to spend the next few hours answering stupid trivia questions, even if it was a fund-raiser for a student who needed a bone marrow transplant.

On the bright side, though, maybe the game would distract her.

Grabbing a handful of popcorn from the tub in the center of the table, she popped several kernels in her mouth, did a quick survey of the gym—and almost choked when she saw a familiar jeans-clad figure standing in the doorway.

What on earth was J.C. doing here?

Coughing, she reached for a glass of water.

“Are you all right?” Red-haired Kate MacDonald, sitting beside her, touched her shoulder in concern.

Instead of answering, Heather took another swallow of water, gulped in some air and glared at Edith across the table. The men had gone to get some soft drinks and more substantial snacks, leaving Kate, Edith, Julie and Heather spaced around the table for eight.

“Edith…” Somehow Heather managed to choke out the accusatory word.

The woman gave her a blank look. “What?”

Heather tipped her head toward the door, and all three women turned.

“My goodness!” Delight suffused Edith’s face, and she started to rise.

“Edith!” This time Heather said her name with more force. After one look at her, the older woman sat back down. “What’s going on? This event has been sold out for weeks.”

“I have no idea.”

Julie squirmed in her chair, and Heather transferred her attention to the dark-haired woman. “Julie? What do you know about this?”

A flush tinted her assistant’s cheeks bright pink. “Rose in Dispatch canceled yesterday. Todd invited J.C. to take her place.”

Shock rippled through Heather. “You mean he’s sitting here? At this table?”

“Yes.”

“We worked together all afternoon, and you didn’t tell me?”

“I didn’t think you’d show up if you knew.”

“She wouldn’t have, either,” Edith chimed in.

“Do I detect a bit of matchmaking here?” Kate gave the trio an amused scan.

“That’s an understatement if I ever heard one,” Heather muttered, trying to come up with an escape plan.

Chuckling, Kate gave her arm an empathetic pat while casting an affectionate smile at Edith. “I’ve been there. But, hey, it worked for me.”

“Don’t encourage her,” Heather warned. “She already…”

“Hi, ladies. I think this is my table.”

At the mellow baritone voice behind Heather, three pairs of eyes switched focus, while she kept her gaze fixed on the tub of popcorn. She’d expected to spend the next few hours sitting next to a middle-aged widow, not a handsome cop. The change in plans did not bode well for her peace of mind, which was already shaky.

“Well, sit right down and make yourself at home.” Edith gestured toward the chair beside Heather’s. “The men will be back in a minute. They went to the concession stand.”

Pulling out the chair, J.C. settled in. A faint whiff of rugged aftershave wafted her way, and Heather squeezed the napkin in her hand into a tight ball as her heart skipped a beat. This was weird. Even Mark had never had this kind of effect on her. And J.C. wasn’t even trying.

Now there was a scary thought!

“You know everyone here, don’t you, J.C.?” Edith asked, every inch the proper hostess.

“Yes. Julie served me my first tea, Kate gives me a great weather report whenever we meet, and Heather—” he directed one of those pulse-disrupting, half-hitch smiles her way “—taught me a few things about cats.”

“Cats?” Julie gave her employer a puzzled look. “I didn’t know you were into cats.”

“It’s a long story.” Heather was saved from further explanation by the return of the men.

Todd set a pitcher in front of J.C., and the dark-haired cop picked it up. “Would you like some soda, Heather?”

Grasping her plastic cup, she edged it toward the pitcher. “Thanks.”

Once her cup was full, J.C. reached past her to fill Craig’s, his sun-browned hand brushing hers. She jerked back as if she’d been burned, watching in horror as the soda in her cup sloshed out and headed toward her across the table.

Acting on instinct, she scooted her chair back—and collided with the man passing behind her, who was juggling a large tub of popcorn and a pitcher of lemonade. The popcorn rained down on her like a sudden summer shower.

Mortified, Heather closed her eyes, wishing she could melt into the floor like the wicked witch in The Wizard of Oz. How much worse could this night get?

A giggle erupted to her right. Kate. Another followed on the left. Julie. She identified the deeper chuckle across the table as Chester’s.

Forcing herself to open her eyes, she risked a peek at the man beside her. The suspicious twitch at the corners of his lips told her he was struggling to contain his own laughter, and heat radiated across her cheeks.

All she could do was try to make the best of an embarrassing situation, Heather decided, accepting that she’d never live this down. Pasting on a smile, she gave a vigorous shake of her head, sending kernels flying in all directions. “Popcorn, anyone?”

J.C. released the chuckle he’d been holding back and plucked a kernel from her hair. “Interesting serving method. But I don’t think it would go over at your teas.”

She liked the way the skin crinkled at the corners of his eyes when he smiled, Heather thought, giving him a good look for the first time. And at this proximity, she couldn’t help noticing the faint glint of gold in his dark irises. His strong, clean-shaven jaw also fascinated her. A faint shadow suggested he had a heavy beard. Would his skin feel smooth or textured against the tips of her fingers? she wondered.

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