Child of His Heart. Joan Kilby
of their romance, made her feel so…so restless.
Erin paced the small room. What was wrong with her? She wasn’t one to avoid difficult situations, yet she was being held hostage, as it were, in her own town. She used to buy her lunch at Rosa’s until she’d found she was in danger of running into him there. Now when she saw him coming she crossed the street, entered a store, ducked into her car, anything to escape.
This couldn’t go on. She simply had to face the man, speak to him, reduce him to human proportions.
She grabbed her purse from her desk drawer and marched through the bank. “I’m going to lunch,” she announced to Tracy and Bobby.
“She’s going to Rosa’s to meet him,” Tracy crowed with delight.
“Looks to me like she’s getting ready for a showdown,” Bobby said.
Erin lifted her chin, refusing to dignify their remarks with a reply. “I’ll be back at one o’clock.”
CHAPTER THREE
SHE MARCHED DOWN the block, head high, the stacked heels of her Versace loafers clicking briskly on the sidewalk. But as she drew nearer to Rosa’s, her palms began to feel damp. This, she reminded herself, pressing her hands to her narrow skirt, was her town.
Entering Rosa’s deli was like dropping into a corner of Italy. Erin breathed in the mouth-watering aromas of prosciutto and sun-dried tomatoes, pungent cheeses and fresh and dried herbs. Strings of garlic and red chili peppers hung from the ceiling alongside whole salamis and cured hams. Behind the counter, Rosa, plump and smiling, and her statuesque daughter, Nina, filled orders for the hungry regulars.
Mrs. Thompson was pointing out to Nina exactly which three slices of Black Forest ham she wanted. Toby Conner, from the gas station, known to Erin’s graduating class as “Tubby” Conner, handed over money for an extra-large container of potato salad. Greta Vogler, fifty-six and never married, asked Rosa for a tuna sandwich, then flirted over her shoulder with Nick Dalton. Perfectly polite, he smiled fixedly, not quite looking Greta in the eye.
Conversation paused as Erin entered. The townspeople she’d known for years greeted her with friendly waves and hellos. Nick Dalton registered Erin’s presence with a slow blink, a subtle double take. His smile widened and became genuine.
“Hi,” she said in a general greeting. She let her gaze rest momentarily on Nick, including him but not singling him out. Very good, she commended herself, friendly without being gushy.
Now for the next step.
“I don’t believe we’ve met,” she said, extending her hand to Nick, cool and collected. At least she hoped she appeared that way. Her heart was beating like a mad thing. “Erin Hanson. I work at the bank.”
His hand, large and warm and strong, wrapped around hers, inspiring a feeling of confidence and security. If she were trapped in a burning building she’d like those hands to be pulling her free.
“Nick Dalton. Nice to meet you—at last.” Amusement colored his low voice, as though he was teasing her with an inside joke.
So he’d noticed her avoidance tactics—how embarrassing. Then she became aware of Toby staring openly at the two of them, and Greta’s sharpened features. “You’ve met my sister Kelly, I believe.”
“She was very helpful with the rental houseboat. In fact, the whole town’s been welcoming. I’ll probably be calling on you soon—”
Erin’s thoughts took flight. How to say no to a date. Dare she say yes?
“—about a home loan.”
“Oh! A home loan. Of course. Anytime.” She laughed.
Mrs. Thompson tucked her package of ham into her string shopping bag, smiled at Erin and left. Toby took his potato salad and roast beef sandwich to one of the stools at the counter along the window. Greta laid a hand on Erin’s forearm and said in a funereal tone, “I was so sorry to hear, my dear.”
“I beg your pardon? Hear what?”
“You know.” Greta’s gaze flicked to Nick and back. “Your breakup. Why you had to leave Seattle. Don’t worry, we’re on your side.”
Erin did a slow burn. Greta Vogler had been teaching English at the high school since the dawn of time and was the nosiest woman in Hainesville. Erin couldn’t begin to imagine what atom of information Greta had gotten hold of, or what monumental work of fiction she’d blown it into. As pleasantly as possible, she replied through gritted teeth, “I came back to take care of Gran.”
“Of course you did,” Greta said, oozing understanding. She picked up her sandwich and swept out of the store in a rustle of shopping bags. “Marriage is highly overrated, or so I’ve been told. We spinsters live longer.”
Rosa scowled after her, then turned to Erin. “For two cents I’d spit in her tuna fish. You want me to put the evil eye on her?”
Erin shook her head. “Somehow she would turn it back on you.”
“Who’s next?” Rosa said, looking from Nick to Erin.
Nick gestured to Erin.
“Oh, no. You were here first.”
“Please. I insist.” He touched her elbow, gently pushing her forward.
“Thank you.” Flustered by the warmth of his fingers on her bare skin, she stepped to the counter. With Nick Dalton blotting coherent thought from her brain, she shouldn’t have been surprised that she blurted out the first thing that came to her—his favorite sandwich. “Pastrami on whole wheat, please.”
Rosa’s eyes opened wide. “That’s amazing! Nick here, he orders pastrami on whole wheat every day.”
Erin felt sick when she realized what she’d done but was too embarrassed to take it back. “Is that right?” she said weakly.
“It’s a fact,” Rosa said with an emphatic shake of her head. “Most people ask for pastrami on rye, roast beef on whole wheat,” she elaborated effusively. “Hardly ever pastrami on whole wheat. First him, now you. Amazing.”
“Astonishing.” Nick had a twinkle in his eye.
“Usually, Erin orders turkey or egg salad. Never pastrami,” Rosa continued, this time to Nick. “Hey, maybe this means you two are meant for each other.”
“Let’s not get carried away,” Erin objected. “I…I felt like a change. It’s just a sandwich.”
“Ah, but what a sandwich,” Nick put in. He kissed his fingertips in the deli owner’s direction. “Rosa makes the best pastrami on whole wheat I’ve ever tasted. No wonder Erin wants one, too.”
“You better watch out. He’s a charmer,” Rosa told Erin with a sly smile. “Hot mustard or seeded?”
“I’ll bet she likes it hot,” Nick said with a wink at Rosa.
“Seeded, please,” Erin replied coolly. This wasn’t turning out at all the way she’d planned. She handed over the money in exchange for the wrapped sandwich. “Thank you.” As quickly as she could without appearing to rush, she headed for the exit.
Before she reached it, Nick was there, holding open the door and handing her a paper cup. “Don’t forget your dill pickle.”
Now was the time to snub him, but he spoke with such insouciant goodwill that she couldn’t think of a single dampening comment. With his glittering dark eyes and curving smile, he looked like a cross between a handsome devil and a guardian angel. She’d been mistaken about one thing—there wasn’t a trace of egotism in that sinfully attractive face.
Something inside her melted and she laughed. “Thanks.” She took the pickle and backed out the door. “Nice meeting you. See you…sometime.”
Nick watched her