LITMIR.BIZ

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in Wellsville and Jamison. Here she’d have to deal with the naysayers who thought great haircuts, pedicures and facials were acts of self-indulgence.

      Meredith knew better. She’d watched her father ruin his life and his health by poisoning his system with drugs and alcohol.

      Taking care of one’s self was a reverent act. God offered one body, one life. Meredith believed that. And while painted nails might not provide world peace, didn’t it make sense to add to the beauty of the world, not detract from it?

      Cam would probably laugh at her assertion, but he’d be wrong. Looking nice fed heart and soul, and a good spa should be a peaceful, joyous experience. No matter what her fine carpenter thought of the whole deal. “You wanted to check upstairs?”

      “Yes.” He thrust his chin toward the back porch. “I brought my tools along. I’m going to lock them inside the kitchen if that’s all right with you. The back porch locks, but the windows make the tools pretty noticeable, and it’s harder to break in through two rooms.”

      “Has that been a problem around here?” Meredith couldn’t imagine it, but…

      “Yes,” Cam admitted. “There have been a bunch of things gone missing from people’s cars, garages, porches. Saleable stuff, and my tools would bring a nice price to a thief. And most of them are portable.”

      Meredith moved toward the porch. “Let’s bring them inside now, then. That way it’s done when we’re tired later.”

      “We’re?”

      Okay, she’d had it with that little note in Cam’s voice that doubted her abilities to walk and chew gum at the same time. She pivoted. “If you’ve got something to say, Cameron, say it now. Get it off your chest, and let’s deal with it, because I haven’t spent the last fourteen years working night and day to come back here and have you dismiss my work. First of all—” she waggled a finger while he took a wise half step back “—we were kids, it was a long time ago, and things didn’t work out for a wide spectrum of reasons, so if that’s what’s bothering you, I suggest you drop it. It’s over. Done. Finished. And second…”

      She leaned in, narrowed her gaze and wished she’d kept her heels on. Without them he had a distinct height advantage, and that brought her face-to-face with a strong, broad chest. Nevertheless… “Taking care of your body, your skin, your face and your hair isn’t a bad thing. It’s food for the heart and soul, and—” she held up two fingers this time, pressing her point “—statistics prove that while women could generally care less about a man’s aging, a hint of gray, laugh lines, a thickening middle—”

      He sucked in a nonexistent gut, but Meredith refused to laugh. They’d have this out here and now if they were going to be able to work together at all. “Men tend to flock toward younger women. So if looking good keeps a man from looking elsewhere, I don’t think that’s a bad thing.”

      “Decent men don’t look elsewhere, Mere.”

      The softness in his voice said he sensed dangerous ground and would tread softly, while his words rang true. But Meredith had been surrounded by financially comfortable men with less than stellar virtue, starting with her father and ending with the man she’d thought she known. Loved. Trusted. Experience had shown her that a fair number of successful men thought nothing of breaking vows. Or lying and schmoozing to get what they wanted.

      “While that’s true, there’s still nothing wrong with men or women wanting to take care of the vessel God gave them. Their body.” She stepped back and gave a wave in his general direction. “If looking good isn’t wrong for you, then why is it wrong for me? For women?”

      His expression changed. Deepened. For a quick take of breath he looked thoughtful, but then he latched on to one thing of note, arched a brow and sent her a teasing smile. “I look good?”

      He looked better than good, but she was not going there. “I meant it as an example.”

      “For teaching purposes only?” He moved a step closer, and yes, he did still smell good, making her wonder if he’d reapplied the scent because he knew they’d be seeing each other, or if he managed to smell good all day without reapplication, a thought that made her want to draw closer. Just to see.

      She didn’t.

      But he did, and it was impossible to miss the glint in those blue eyes, a twinkle that said…

      She had no idea what it said, but the sparkle drew her and she had no intention of being drawn to a guy who thought her simply decorative.

      She started to turn, but he caught her hand as naturally as he had all those years before. His fingers melded with hers, the skin tough and callused, firm and solid. Pinpricks of awareness clenched her gut. He drew closer, held her gaze and made a face of regret. “I apologize for being a jerk.”

      She started to shrug him off, pretending it didn’t matter, but he moved closer and tipped her chin up, a move she remembered well. “It was rude. I can admit I had preconceived notions about all this.” He waved his free hand around the gracious old house. “You’ve set me straight. I promise to keep an open mind. Generally.”

      She growled.

      He grinned and released her hand, and she was pretty sure a fairly good piece of her heart. But she’d learned the hard way that men were not always what they seemed.

      Was that true with Cam?

      Probably not, but Meredith wasn’t in a position to take chances. She’d lost her job, and probably a good share of her credibility by believing the wrong guy. She’d smartened up, but couldn’t afford more mistakes.

      She’d been fooled once.

      Her fault for being naive.

      Letting herself get fooled twice?

      Not about to happen, and definitely not in her hometown where private moments were a backyard conversation away from being common knowledge.

      She led the way to the porch and helped lug Cam’s tools into the kitchen. She’d do whatever it took to guard Cam’s stuff.

      She’d do even more to protect her heart.

      Chapter Five

      You can do this.

      Eyeing the short walkway linking her car and Heather’s entry, Meredith wasn’t so sure.

      She approached the door of the somewhat worn Federal-style building in Wellsville, noted the Closed Mondays sign, and hesitated.

      A part of her wanted to run.

      Another fraction longed to turn back the hands of time and fix things, an impossible task made harder by a guilt span of fourteen years. She raised her hand to knock, but a voice hailed her from above. “It’s open, Mere.”

      She stepped out from under the overhang and looked up. “Hey, Heather.”

      Heather Madigan jerked a thumb. “Come on in. Coffee’s fresh.”

      Her voice and easy acceptance made Meredith feel more like a jerk, deservedly. As she let herself in, the door emitted an old, familiar squeak, a welcome whine that reminded customers of where they were.

      “Same door,” she noted as Heather hurried into the room. Heather had gained weight, something she’d struggled with all through high school, but the look of cautious question in her face, her eyes, said Mere’s visit was only a little surprising.

      Heather waved a hand toward the door and motioned left toward the kitchen. “I could change it, but it was always that way when Mom was running the shop. It reminds me of her.”

      “Your mother was a good woman,” Meredith said softly. She faltered, then frowned in apology. “I’m sorry I didn’t come back for her service. Her funeral. It was rude.”

      “Everybody gets busy, Mere.” Heather poured two mugs of coffee, grabbed out

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