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furnishings, she would find him appealing.

      Rule number one. Josh Gallagher is strictly off-limits. If this crazy idea of Holly’s was going to work, she must constantly remind herself of that important guideline.

      Suzann coughed and sneezed her way to the hallway leading to the church library. She would take a quick look inside, then turn around and go back to the apartment.

      Just outside the door, another coughing spell paralyzed her temporarily. Her throat still hurt. She coughed again. This was not the time to come down with a cold.

      She took a sip of water from the fountain nearby, then another. As she reached out to open the door, she thought she heard someone coming.

      Suzann froze. She’d found empty buildings unnerving since she was a child. She pulled her hand back from the door-knob and slipped her key ring back in her purse.

      The janitor—yes, that’s who it is, she thought. Now, what did Holly call him? Oh, yes, Turner. Albert Turner.

      Whirling around, her mouth formed the letter M for Mister Turner. A tall, broad-shouldered man in a white, western-style shirt, jeans and brown cowboy boots came around the corner. Could this cowboy be the church janitor?

      “Miss Harmon.” He propped his arm against the door frame. A one-sided grin emerged. “How was your vacation?”

      “Great.”

      His eyes sparkled. “Then are you rested and ready to get back to work?”

      “Do I have to answer that?”

      “Absolutely.”

      The corners of his mouth still turned up, revealing even white teeth. His brown, wavy hair looked thick and coarse. Yet she knew intuitively that it would be soft to the touch.

      The bronzed tan on his weather-worn face and strong-looking hands suggested an outdoorsman. Jeans and cowboy boots painted an even clearer picture. Everything about him told of a working man who spent hours in the Texas sun.

      But what kept her looking at him were those blue eyes that appeared to glow with energy and excitement. Their sky-blue color contained specks of a deeper blue and were edged in navy, giving his entire gaze an intensity that she found compelling.

      “Having trouble opening the library door?” he asked.

      “Yes, as a matter of fact. I’ve lost my key.”

      Not lost it, exactly. She just couldn’t figure out which key fit without trying all of the keys on the ring. A task she’d rather perform without curious witnesses. But the excuse gave her the chance to talk to him for a minute. She suspected that he wasn’t a janitor. She wanted to learn his identity before she ran into him again.

      “Here,” he said. “Try mine.”

      “Thanks.”

      So, he had a master key. Maybe he was the janitor after all. Or maybe he was…

      Of course.

      He didn’t fit her idea of a man of the cloth. Yet this too-handsome cowboy had to be none other than Josh Gallagher, the youth director and assistant pastor.

      After seeing him, she knew why he’d captured the notice of all the single women in the congregation. That lean muscular body and long legs left no doubt.

      “Don’t forget,” he said, “Pastor Jones wants us to work on that duet for next Sunday.”

      “You don’t mean tomorrow, do you?”

      “Tomorrow’s this Sunday.” His engaging grin held a pinch of laughter. “Don’t worry. We still have two weeks to practice. Do you have a copy of the music yet?”

      “Yes. I mean—You know, I can’t remember.”

      “Don’t let it bother you. I’ll run off a copy of mine.”

      Suzann nodded her thanks and put the key in the lock. As she reached back to return his key, another coughing spell erupted. She felt slightly light-headed and feverish now along with her other symptoms.

      Without a word the cowboy reached for a paper cup above the fountain. He filled it and handed her the water.

      “Here,” he said, “drink this.”

      She put the cup to her lips and drank. The urge to cough slowly vanished. The cool water also relieved her aching throat a bit. But she still felt woozy.

      “Thanks,” she said. “I needed that.”

      “You sure did.” His deep chuckle filled the air. “Are you all right?”

      “I’ll—” she swallowed “—I’ll be fine.”

      “Did you know it’s getting dark outside? Looks like rain.”

      “In that case, I’ll cut my visit to the library short.”

      “Can I get you anything?” He hesitated thoughtfully. “We have cough drops in the church office. I’ll go get you some.”

      “You’re kind to think of that.”

      When he’d gone, Suzann sat down at the desk, put her head down and closed her eyes. When she finally lifted her head again, she studied the room, searching for some sort of work that she could be involved in when the cowboy returned. Turning in her chair, she pulled out a book from the bookcase behind her.

      The Church Directory.

      She’d been wanting something that would acquaint her with the congregation at Oak Valley Bible Church. A church directory was just the text she’d been hoping to find. She would check it out of the church library and take it back to Holly’s apartment for further study.

      She filled out the library card and opened the book to the first page. She’d just turned to the Gs for Gallagher when Josh reappeared with the cough medication. Casually, she flipped to the Rs.

      “How’s the cough?” He handed her the box of candied drops.

      “Better.” She popped a drop in her mouth. “Yum, cherry-flavored. My favorite.”

      “Keep the whole box then. We have several cartons of the stuff in the church office.”

      “Thanks again.”

      He shifted his weight from one long leg to the other as if there was something more he wanted to say. “As you know,” he began, “I’m new to Oak Valley, and I thought the pastor said you were a native Texan. But you sure didn’t sound like it just then.”

      She needed to forget her cough and get in character.

      “I have several friends from other states.” Suzann’s sculptured lips formed her best ingenuous smile yet. “I guess it’s beginning to rub off.”

      “Yeah, that’s probably it.”

      He still looked puzzled, but maybe not as much as before.

      “I couldn’t help noticing that you’re wearing cowboy boots and jeans,” she said with a Texas accent. “Were you raised on a farm? Or do you just like Western clothes?”

      “A little of both, I guess. But it was a ranch. Not a farm,” he corrected with a spark of amusement in his eyes. He glanced out the window. “Why, it’s starting to sprinkle.”

      The light shower had turned to rain by the time she looked out too. The trees and the entire parking lot had grayed eerily. She could barely see the street beyond.

      “You sure don’t need to be out in wet weather with that cough of yours.” He glanced toward the side door. “If you’ll give me your car keys, I’ll re-park your car under the carport.”

      “I—I walked.”

      “Walked? Didn’t you notice those dark clouds coming up from the north?”

      “I

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