LITMIR.BIZ

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there had to be more to the story....”

      To Macy’s delight, Paris wasn’t the only one who greeted her with the warmth of a long-lost family member. At the potluck in the fellowship hall following the service—given in her honor, no less—numerous ladies invited her to share a meal, probably hoping one of their old family recipes would be featured in the blog. Some hugged her. One elderly lady—Mae Harding, was it?—kissed her cheek as she might do to her granddaughter.

      Sharon Dixon, owner of Dix’s Woodland Warehouse, confirmed Macy’s work schedule at the general store on Main Street. As was her custom when visiting small communities, she often served in an unpaid capacity at local businesses, finding it gave her a better opportunity to get to know those who populated the town.

      Others crowded in to introduce themselves and their families. Some handed her business cards—numerous campgrounds, cabin resorts and RV parks. An outdoorsy crowd, it seemed.

      Macy smiled, listened and asked questions, mentally tabulating how she’d portray the flavor of the town in her blog. But her greatest “find” in the lunchtime crowd was when three sets of newlyweds eagerly shared their stories of recent Christmastime nuptials. Her Hometowns With Heart online friends loved it when she covered true-life romance.

      Speaking of which...she’d lost track of Jake and Paris some time ago.

      With councilmen Don and Larry and their spouses drifting to a dessert-laden table, she stepped away from the corner where they’d had her pinned and scanned the room. Oh. There she was at least, across the room chatting with the pastor’s wife. Macy knew she herself wasn’t any slouch when it came to mingling in social situations, but nevertheless envy stabbed as she watched Paris’s poised interaction. As much as she hated to admit it, she’d be a good match for Jake in his role as a public servant. Did his dreams still extend beyond his current council seat?

      “Macy?”

      The familiar masculine voice and light touch to her upper arm startled her. She turned, heart skittering expectantly.

      “I’m sorry to tear you away from your fans,” Jake said, keeping his voice low, “but there’s someone I think you should meet.”

      Jake helping her? After yesterday, she was surprised he was speaking to her at all.

      “Or actually two someones,” he added, “you might want to feature in your blog.”

      Detecting an unmistakable glimmer of amusement in his eyes, she folded her arms and gave him a suspicious glare.

      His lips twitched, but he managed to suppress the smile. “Come and see.”

      She glanced around, but since no one appeared to be waiting to speak with her—and Jake’s lady friend seemed otherwise occupied—she nodded, her curiosity piqued.

      He led the way outside to the back of the property. Pine trees overshadowed a scattering of picnic tables and a concrete slab boasted a basketball hoop, neither of which seemed newsworthy. She slowed her pace. Had Jake lured her out here to give her another piece of his mind?

      He disappeared around the side of the building as her sandaled feet picked a path across the thick carpet of still-damp, brown pine needles. But just when she’d convinced herself to go back inside, the sound of a horse nickering close by reached her ears.

      A horse? At the church?

      That’s all it took to send her around the corner in Jake’s wake. Yes, a horse. Two, in fact, saddled and tied to a hitching post. Bridles removed and draped over saddle horns, each horse had been secured with a lead rope fastened to its halter. One of them leaned his head into Jake, eager to have a sweet spot behind his ear scratched.

      “People ride horses to church here?” Talk about the Wild West. She approached slowly, not wanting to spook the animals. They were beautiful, with intelligent, gentle brown eyes.

      “The pastor’s brother, Trey Kenton, and Trey’s wife, Kara, do when the weather’s suitable. Meet Beamer and Taco.”

      Kara and Trey. That would be the woman with the strawberry-blond ponytail and the soft-spoken cowboy with a slight limp. They were one of the December wedding couples. What an ideal addition to tomorrow’s blog this would make. A true taste of high country Arizona that would appeal to her readers. Perfect.

      “I’ll get them from inside, along with my camera.” She spun away.

      “Macy. Wait.”

      At the sharp command, she halted and hesitantly turned toward him. “I want to see if they’ll come out and pose for me.”

      “I’m sure they’d be happy to. But they aren’t going anywhere just yet. I saw Trey cutting himself a whopping big piece of cherry pie as we were leaving.” He cracked a smile. “So, pardon the expression, but hold your horses.”

      Macy’s throat constricted. Despite the pun, she read something else in his now unsmiling blue eyes. Something she wasn’t in any mood to deal with right now.

      “Look, Jake—”

      Chapter Four

      Nostrils flaring, the chestnut Taco suddenly lifted his head and emitted a powerfully shrill whinny that startled Macy into silence.

      Having detected the preemptive strike intention in Macy’s tone, Jake laughed and gave his equine friend a grateful pat. Perfect timing. He had something he wanted to say and the challenge he sensed in her words would have put him on the defensive. “I think you’d better get over here, Mace, and give these guys some attention. I don’t remember you being afraid of horses.”

      “I’m not.”

      He sensed her indecision, though. Should she allow herself to be distracted or pick up where she’d left off? She again approached, probably more uneasy around him at the moment than she was the tethered horses.

      Beamer stretched his neck toward her and she patted the top of his nose. He pushed forward to sniff her and she quickly stepped back to prevent him from getting anything on that pretty dress.

      “Here. I snagged these off a veggie tray.” Jake fished in his jacket pocket and handed her a carrot stick. “Place it on the flat of your hand at the base of your fingers. Keep your fingers together and thumb tucked to the side. Then arch your hand downward and let him lip it off.”

      “He won’t bite me?”

      “Naw.” He pulled out another carrot stick and demonstrated with Taco. Beamer pushed in, looking for his fair share, and Jake nodded to Macy. “Go ahead. He’s ready for his.”

      Gingerly, she held out her hand as Jake had instructed and immediately Beamer’s lips grazed her palm, searching for the treat. Finding it, he slipped it into his mouth and stepped back to crunch it. Loudly.

      Macy laughed. “He didn’t waste any time.”

      Jake handed her another carrot, but from her cautious glance in his direction she seemed to sense he was biding his time. And he was. After the passage of time, you’d think he’d have had anything he intended to say engraved in his memory, but having her here, right now, his mind drew a blank.

      She toyed with the carrot in her hand. “You know, Jake, this is going to be a long four weeks for both of us if you intend to monitor my comings and goings each and every day.”

      “I always go to church. Ask anybody.”

      “Nevertheless, considering yesterday’s conversation, don’t tell me it hasn’t crossed your mind to keep an eye on me.”

      A corner of his mouth turned up in admission. He patted Taco’s neck, then again scratched behind the big animal’s ear. “I wanted to talk to you about that.”

      “That’s what I thought.” Her voice held a note of resignation.

      He kept his eyes trained on the horse now rummaging for another treat. “I want to apologize

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