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They’d made themselves up to reflect what society considered beautiful—blond hair, full lips, high cheekbones, striking eyes.

      As he looked at Emma, he saw something simpler, much more pure. There was no need for paint or artifice. It was all there in its natural form. A shiver skittered through his body and his breath caught in his throat.

      Emma jumped, then turned around in her chair to find him watching her. She scrambled to her feet, dropping the letter on the table and struggling with the chair. “Wha-what are you doing here?”

      “I didn’t mean to frighten you,” Mac said.

      “You did! Why are you here?”

      He held up the application for a library card. “I need you to sign this. I wanted to get a card but I don’t have the proper identification with me. If you vouch for me, they’ll give me one.”

      “But I don’t know you.”

      He grinned. “Sure you do. I’m the guy who’s working for Buddy while he recovers from his surgery.”

      “And that’s all I know. That’s not enough to get you a library card. Where do you live?”

      “Right now, I’m staying out at the hangar. But I’ve been trying to find a place in town.” That wasn’t exactly the truth, but it sounded good. He had a cot, a bathroom and a makeshift kitchen at the hangar. It was rent-free and enough to meet his needs.

      “But where do you come from? Where do you live when you’re not here?”

      Mac wished that he had a better story to tell her, but he’d accepted the reality of his life long ago. “The last time I had a permanent address was the day before my eighteenth birthday. That was nearly ten years ago. I suppose I could give you that address.”

      “Where was that?”

      “Boulder, Colorado. It’s where my foster parents live. At least it was. I haven’t talked to them since I left, so they might have moved.”

      She gave him a grudging smile, then held out her hand. Emma grabbed the paper and signed the bottom. “Raise your hand and repeat after me.”

      Mac did as he was told.

      “I, Luke MacKenzie, promise to treat my library books with care, read them promptly and return them before the due date, so help me God.”

      Chuckling, Mac repeated the promise and when he was finished, she handed him the paper. “Thanks,” he said.

      “Is there anything I can help you find? What do you like to read? Besides Shakespeare.”

      “I’ve been reading the biographies of the great explorers—Columbus, Marco Polo, Amundsen.”

      “That sounds interesting.”

      “What do you like to read?”

      She took a moment to formulate an answer. “My favorite is true-life adventure. Climbing Everest and surviving in a life raft for seventy days. Books about people with daring and courage.”

      “And do you have daring and courage?” he asked.

      “No,” Emma said. “Quite the opposite. That’s why I find those books so fascinating.”

      “Note to self,” he murmured. “Add more adventure to Marry-Me Emma’s life.”

      She giggled softly and her cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink. “There’s a new biography of David Livingstone. If you haven’t read it, you should. I thought it was excellent.”

      “Good. I’ll read it. And maybe we could get together and have coffee and talk about it.”

      “Are you asking me on a date?”

      Mac had never needed to clarify his intent when it came to women, but he wasn’t quite sure if coffee and a book discussion qualified as a date. “Would you consider that a date?” he asked.

      Emma thought about her answer for a long moment. “Probably not.”

      “What would I have to add to make it a real date?” Mac asked.

      “Maybe dinner? Definitely dinner. And a movie? But we don’t have a theater in town, so dinner would be enough.”

      She blushed more deeply and Mac could see that the question had flustered her. “Emma, would you like to go out to dinner with me?”

      She drew in a sharp breath, then nodded her head. “Yes. Yes, that would be lovely. When?”

      “Soon? But I’m probably going to need three or four days to finish the book.”

      “Or I could recommend a shorter book,” she said.

      “How about Saturday?”

      “The Livingstone bio is about four hundred and fifty pages long, including the notes and index.”

      “I’m a fast reader,” Mac assured her.

      “It’s a date, then. Saturday night.”

      Mac wanted to stay longer, to find an excuse to grab her hand or steal a kiss. But he had officially secured a date with Emma and, considering her unpredictable nature, he thought it best to leave while he was ahead. “I’m going to go now, before I find a way to screw this up. I’ll see you Saturday night.”

      “Where?” she asked.

      “Great question. Any thoughts?”

      “I’ll pick you up at the hangar and we’ll decide then.”

      She smiled and Mac felt his blood warm a few degrees. “Good idea.”

      “Enjoy the book, Mac,” she murmured.

      “See you Saturday, Emma,” he said.

      As he walked back upstairs to the circulation desk, Mac smiled to himself. He’d managed to play that perfectly, yet he hadn’t a clue how it had all happened. When he’d set out to find her, he hadn’t been sure she’d agree to a date.

      With the exception of their love of books, they had absolutely nothing in common. She was a homebody, content in a small town, living a small life. Her only adventures came from books. She’d put down roots and was a respected member of the community. Emma had history that included friends and family.

      Mac had no roots, no family, no past. He’d spent his adult life drifting from place to place, taking work when he needed it. Everything he owned fit into his plane. His freedom was all he’d ever required in life. He had nothing to offer a woman like Emma.

      So why was he so determined to charm her, Mac wondered. Did he see her as a challenge? Or did he want to experience just a tiny bit of the life he’d never had? Or was she just so amazing that he couldn’t help himself?

      “It’s just a date. You’re not climbing Everest.”

      It was only dinner, and yet somehow Mac felt that it was the start of so much more.

      THE NORMALLY QUIET library came alive after school when students strolled through the front door and took their customary spots at the reading tables. The students who wanted to study usually chose to stay at the school library. But Emma had a loyal group of outsiders, kids who either weren’t comfortable at school or had been kicked out of the school library for bad behavior. The former she welcomed, the latter, she considered a challenge to be won over.

      “Where are the books about T. rex?”

      Emma smiled at Joey Hammersmith. “See that big green dino over there? Right underneath him.”

      “Thanks!”

      Joey ran off and her gaze fell on a young girl who’d been part of the after-school crowd for the past few months. She appeared to be about eleven

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