Child of His Heart. Joan Kilby
let you go,” he said reluctantly to Kelly, and moved toward the vehicle. He didn’t want Miranda creating a scene on their very first day in town. “Thanks for everything.”
“What took you so long?” Miranda demanded when he’d got back inside and started the engine.
“Courtesy,” he replied shortly. “Something you could use a little of.” He sketched a wave to the two women standing on the sidewalk and drove off with the distinct impression they were talking about him.
Two blocks down he saw the concrete tower of the Hainesville Fire Department. A bright red-and-white fire engine was parked outside, wet and gleaming from a recent washing. Nick pulled in at the curb, ignoring Miranda’s groan at yet another stop. A young blond fireman wandered out from behind the engine, saw Nick and came over to the vehicle with a friendly smile. “Hi, there. Can I help you folks?”
Nick put a hand through the open window. “Nick Dalton, your new chief. Steve Randall, right?”
Steve wiped a damp hand on his regulation navy pants and shook. “Welcome to Hainesville, Chief. Sorry I didn’t recognize you at first.”
“That’s okay. We only met once. My daughter and I just arrived.” He glanced around at the silent street. “Slow day?”
Steve grinned. “No other kind around here.”
Miranda made a small noise of disgust.
“This is Miranda,” Nick said. “She’s looking forward to the peace and quiet of a small town.”
“Da-a-ad.”
Nick eased the truck into gear. “Guess I’d better be moving. The furniture van is right behind us.”
“I’ll stop by after work and give you a hand unloading,” Steve said.
“I wouldn’t want to put you out.”
“Oh, it’s no problem,” Steven informed him cheerfully. “I’ll bring over the casserole my mom made for you. She figured that on your first night here you wouldn’t be set up for cooking.”
“That’s really nice of her,” Nick said, taken aback at the kindness of a complete stranger. “I’ll see you later.”
He found River Road again and drove out the other side of town toward the marina where his houseboat was moored, his thoughts echoing Miranda’s earlier comment—was this place for real?
God, he hoped so.
BY THE END OF THE FOLLOWING week, Erin had familiarized herself with the bank’s corporate accounts and met many of the individuals who entrusted their money to the institution. She’d set herself up in the office next to Jonah Haines, put fresh flowers on her desk and hung one of her two Regulator clocks on the wall.
At 11:55 a.m. she closed the file on an application for a home loan and leaned back in her chair to stretch. Through her partly open door she could hear the quiet hum of voices as Tracy served a customer. Then the front door opened and closed as the person left. Silence. She glanced at the clock. Minutes seemed to tick by more slowly here in Hainesville.
Tracy’s voice, good-natured and strident, roused her. “Hey, Erin,” she called. “Sally Larkin over at the drugstore reckons our new fire chief wears boxer shorts. I say briefs. What do y’all think?”
Half scandalized, half amused, Erin rose to stand in the doorway. “Are you gawking at that poor man again?”
“Every chance I get,” Tracy said, blatantly unrepentant as she peered through the slats in the venetian blind at the front of the bank. “If I weren’t already engaged to the sweetest man west of the Rockies I’d be knocking on the front door of the luscious Mistah Dalton. I can’t believe he’s been here over a week and you haven’t met him yet.”
The truth was, Erin had deliberately avoided several opportunities to meet him. Although she was intrigued, he made her nervous. He was pure male energy, his sexuality restrained but undiminished by old-fashioned good manners. Her heart was already in traction; God knows what further damage a man like Nick Dalton could inflict.
“I’ve been busy catching up with Gran and Kelly. Not to mention the fact that I’ve just started a new job,” Erin protested. “If I meet him, I meet him. I’m not going to go out of my way to do so. Frankly, I’m a little sick of him already. Nick this, Nick that. He’s just a man.”
“Well, you’re the only one who thinks so.”
Tracy was telling the truth. Nick Dalton had every woman in town talking. Already it was common knowledge that the chief ordered pastrami on whole wheat for lunch at Rosa’s deli, took Mrs. Thompson’s arm to help her across the road and had left Los Angeles to get his twelve-year-old daughter away from bad company. Most important, as a widower in a small town with a limited number of attractive bachelors, he was single. And to the women of Hainesville, that meant available.
Which of course was irrelevant to Erin. Only a few weeks had passed since her breakup with John. The memory of their emotional last weekend together was still fresh in her mind. He hadn’t called her yet, but he would, if she just gave him some space. She owed it to herself to give him a chance to make things right.
“He’s heading this way,” Tracy announced. “Bet he’s goin’ on down to Rosa’s. Come quick, or you’ll miss him.”
Erin tucked a long strand of blond hair behind her ear and crossed her arms over her chest. “Ogling a man is demeaning,” she said severely. “You’re viewing him purely as a sex object.”
“Hoo boy, you got that right.” Tracy wiggled her behind in appreciation. “Hurry up, girl. Goin’, goin’…”
Erin glanced around. Bobby was chewing gum and checking out a new pimple in the reflection of the glass above his teller cage. Jonah Haines was in another “meeting” with Mayor Bob Gribble out on the river. The bank would be empty of customers for at least five minutes until the lunch rush. She shouldn’t be tempted to take a gander, but with all the hype, who could blame her?
To heck with it. There was no harm in a peek.
She lifted the hinged counter separating the tellers from the customers and joined Tracy at the window. Through the venetian blinds half closed against the sun she saw Nick Dalton strolling past in front of the bank.
With easy muscular grace, he threw an orange into the air and caught it in one hand, then repeated the motion. Beneath his crisp white short-sleeved shirt his biceps flexed, and when he tilted his head back, his near-black hair glinted auburn in the sun. Erin had glimpsed him working out on a set of weights in the recesses of the fire station. As she remembered his sweat-sheened muscles, her mouth lost some of its moisture.
Tracy nudged her in the ribs. “Isn’t he gorgeous?”
Just then, Nick turned his head toward the bank and caught Erin peering through the blinds. He grinned and tipped two fingers to his temple in a lively salute. Erin’s cheeks flamed. She slapped the slats shut and stepped away from the window, mortified.
“He’s probably got an ego the size of Texas,” she snapped.
“And you, girlfriend, are in denial if you think you’re not attracted.” Tracy’s grin spread wide. “What are you so worried about?”
Erin ignored her and strode back through the opening in the counter. “Did those roofers say when they’d be over?” she demanded of Bobby. “Mike fixed that outlet, but if those wires get wet again, they could short out and we could have a fire in here.”
Bobby straightened away from his reflection. “They said they’d try to get here this afternoon but couldn’t promise anything.”
“Call them again. If they’re busy, call someone else.”
Erin went into her office and shut the door. Damn Nick Dalton, grinning at her like that.
She