LITMIR.BIZ

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his feet. In his pocket, he had a paper napkin left over from lunch at the Bagel Bites Café. When Kelly was standing again, he went to her and offered it.

      “Thanks.” She turned away from him as she cleaned herself up.

      “Don’t take it so hard,” he said, quelling an impulse to put a hand to her shoulder. “I’ve got a plan. I’m hoping to get married soon. Then I’m going to offer to take Sharon’s children for a while, to give her a chance to settle down.”

      “Oh.” Kelly’s eyes were huge in her pale face. “Who are you marrying?”

      “Well, I haven’t asked her yet. But I’m hoping it’ll be Abby Stevens.”

      “The kindergarten teacher?”

      “Yeah. We’ve been dating for a while.”

      “Oh,” she said again.

      Somehow they both started walking along the road. The snow had stopped, but enough had fallen to turn the narrow street into a sparkling wonderland. Their boots crunched in the fresh drifts, and clouds of ice crystals formed with each exhaled breath.

      “I know Abby,” Kelly said at last. “She invites me to her class every fall to speak to the kids about Halloween safety.” After a pause, she added, “She’s cute.”

      “Yeah.” He was beginning to think Abby was too cute, and that that was the problem. After their walk, he’d taken Abby home. At the door, he suspected, she had hoped for more than one short kiss good-night. But again, he’d felt no urge to carry things further.

      “She’ll be great with the kids,” he said.

      Kelly stopped walking, so he did, too. “You’re in love with her, right?”

      He bristled. “That’s a little personal, don’t you think?”

      She took hold of his arm and forced him to face her. Those eyes of hers were so probing. And no wonder. She was a cop, after all.

      “You’re just marrying her because of the kids.”

      “Not real—” The denial jammed in his throat. That was the truth, so why not admit it? “Isn’t that what marriage is all about? Raising kids. What does it matter if they aren’t ours?”

      “Of course it doesn’t matter, Mick. But marriage is about more than kids.”

      “Not in my book. Too many of the stories I cover for the paper are about tragedies that happen because parents don’t put their children’s interests first.” Messy divorces, youngsters raised in poverty, family violence. God, he’d seen so many messed-up families. Not the least, his own brother’s.

      “Does Abby know how you feel about marriage? About her? She’s always struck me as the romantic type.”

      Mick freed the air trapped in his lungs. He didn’t like the direction of Kelly’s conversation. He had to marry Abby. If he didn’t, he’d lose precious weeks of courting time; he didn’t want to start from scratch with another woman.

      “Why don’t you hire a nanny instead of getting married?”

      He’d thought about that option a lot. It had much to recommend it, but most of the benefits were to him, not the kids. “After all Billy and Mandy have been through, a nanny just isn’t good enough.”

      “I see.”

      “Don’t give me that look. If Abby agrees to marry me, I intend to be a good husband.”

      “I’m sure that you do.”

      Abruptly, Mick started back toward his vehicle. Kelly stuck right beside him, her long stride easily matching his purposeful pace. At the door to his truck he paused to fish out his keys. The next thing he knew, Kelly had her hand over the lock.

      “What are you doing?”

      “Mick, I don’t think you should marry Abby.”

      He swore for the second time that night. “And what about Billy and Amanda?” he asked. “I suppose you have a better idea how I can look after them?”

      “As a matter of fact, I do,” she said, her voice oddly calm.

      “You can marry me.”

      CHAPTER FOUR

      “YOU CAN’T BE SERIOUS.” Mick concentrated on Kelly’s determined expression. She didn’t appear to be pulling his leg. Her suggestion that they marry was genuine.

      A gust of wind flattened his hair and brought tears to his eyes. It was so cold out here, Kelly’s lips had gone blue.

      “Let’s go to my place and talk,” he suggested.

      Kelly nodded. She hadn’t spoken since telling him he should marry her. Perhaps she’d gone into shock. He opened his passenger door again and motioned her inside.

      The drive to his house took less than five minutes—insufficient time for warm air to start blowing from the vehicle’s heating system or even for the electric seat warmers to have much effect. He figured Kelly was even more frozen than he was by the time he had her sitting near the stoked-up fireplace in his living room. He left her holding her hands to the heat, while he put on coffee.

      Coming back into the room, Mick took fresh stock of the woman. Tall and lean, she’d always given him the impression of athletic strength. Her brown hair was thick and shoulder length—he realized he was used to seeing it up in the bun she always wore when she was in uniform.

      Up until the past two months, most of their encounters had occurred when they were both at work. When he needed information about RCMP activities, he’d always preferred asking Kelly. She had a quick, logical mind and a reserved nature that he felt comfortable with. He appreciated her sense of humor, too, which was subtle and slightly self-deprecating. Truthfully, he’d enjoyed her company so much, he’d been tempted to ask her out.

      But given his past history in this town, he’d thought it safer to continue to date women outside the sphere of Canmore.

      “Coffee will be ready in a few minutes. Are you getting warmer?”

      “The feeling’s back in my fingers,” she said, still facing the fire. Her profile captivated him. He moved closer, to a chair just a few feet from where she was standing. From here, he could feel the heat from the fireplace, as well as continue to observe her.

      “I understand that you must feel terrible about my brother.” And he did. His journalistic training was too ingrained for him not to see both sides of the story. Despite his anger and grief at Danny’s death, he knew that Kelly had only acted in accordance with RCMP procedure.

      She’d shown up at the Thunder Bar M ranch in pursuit of her sister Cathleen and Dylan McLean. The intrepid couple, believing Danny had been involved in the murder of Dylan’s mother, Rose, were determined to speak with him.

      Ironically, it was Kelly’s arrival on the scene that had panicked Danny—probably because of the stash of drugs he had hidden on the premises. Mick had read all the reports. He knew his brother had pulled a gun from his jacket and aimed it right at Cathleen.

      He also knew that, by all accounts, Kelly had tried to defuse Danny’s fear, speaking to him calmly and gently. But Danny had been too worked up. He’d cocked the trigger of his handgun, and that was it. Kelly had aimed, fired—

      And Danny was dead.

      Later, they’d discovered he’d played no part in Rose Strongman’s death. And while the quantity of drugs he’d been storing would have seen him doing serious jail time, his life had been a high price to pay.

      Still, Mick couldn’t blame Kelly for his brother’s foolish mistakes.

      “Don’t think it’s guilt that’s behind my suggestion,” Kelly said now.

      “What else could it be?” Mick wondered if she knew

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