Dan sat and wondered how she managed things all by herself. "Who winterizes your house?"

She paused and set the tea kettle back on the burner. "I do."

"These windows are so old, they can't be double-paned."

She smiled. "I usually put a nice thick plastic on the inside of the windows. Keeps the warm air on the inside."

"What about the plumbing?"

She shook her head and picked up the kettle, pouring hot water into the waiting teapot. When she was finished she carried the pot to the table and placed it on an iron trivet. "You're going to love this tea. We just need to let it sit for a few minutes. While we wait," she said, meeting his gaze, "I'd like to talk to you about Megan."

Damn, she knew! "What about her?"

"There's a lot of history here that you might need to understand before you get involved with her."

An image of Meg perched on the edge of her countertop flashed in his mind, distracting him.

"Daniel!"

"Huh?"

His aunt frowned up at him. "Well. That certainly answers my next question. Don't you think you should have courted the girl first?"

Fishing to see just how thorough the gossip chain in Apple Grove was, he asked, "First before what?"

His aunt got up and started to pace around the kitchen, and he couldn't help but notice that she looked like an indignant fairy, but he wasn't about to tell her that. "Just because there's snow on the roof, doesn't mean there isn't a fire inside, young man."

It took a moment for her words to sink in, and when they did, he was speechless. He had no idea what to say and no desire to discuss sex with his great-aunt. So he did what any red-blooded American man would do when faced with this type of a situation: he changed the subject.

"So Aunt Trudi, I was at the sheriff's office before and noticed he was upset about Honey B. signing up at a dating site. Why would that be?"

She took the bait, hook, line, and sinker. "Was he angry or upset? Upset means she got his attention, angry means he really does care."

He got up and pulled out her chair so she could sit back down. "He wasn't angry to start out, but once he got going, he worked up a full head of steam."

His aunt tut-tutted, shook her head, and gave him another telling look, so he added fuel to the gossip he'd just fed her. "When Cindy mentioned her sister's biological clock ticking, the sheriff stormed into his office and slammed the door."

His aunt got up, put her hands on either side of his face, and planted a noisy kiss on his cheek. "That is the best news I've heard all day. I've got to call Amelia."

"What about Honey B.?"

"Oh, I'm sure her sister already called her by now." She paused with the phone in her hand. "What else did the sheriff have to say?"

"Something about psychos, wackos, and weirdos." If anyone asked what he thought, Dan would have told him that the sheriff had more than a passing interest in Honey B.'s welfare-and dating status.

"It's about time that man showed some interest in that poor girl. She's been in love with him for years."

Dan was halfway to the door when his aunt added, "Which reminds me of Megan." When he turned around, she was standing there with the cordless phone in her hand and a frown on her face. "You're going to want to sit down for this conversation, Daniel Patrick Eagan."

Jeez! All three names-a sure sign that he was in trouble. But how had she found out what he'd been doing... and then it hit him. She didn't know-she was guessing, and as long as he didn't act guilty, she had nothing to go on. Did she?

He smiled and slowly walked over to the chair she'd pulled out for him. "Are you sure you should be talking to me about Meg? Isn't that the same as gossiping?"

She stood in front of him and shook her pointer finger at him. "Now you just sit and listen up, Daniel."

Her frown was fierce, so he swallowed the laughter building inside of him. "Yes, ma'am."

"Hmmpfh. That's better. Meg's a good girl," she said slowly. "She's a hard worker, has a kind heart and a gentle soul."

"All redeeming qualities, I'm sure, but weren't you going to call Mrs. Winter?"

She poked him in the shoulder. "Be still," she said, placing the phone on the counter. "And don't change the subject."

He nodded.

"Meg's had a lot on her plate for the last twelve years or so; she could use someone steady in her life."

"She's got a good job from what I hear, working for her family."

His aunt agreed. "But she's been carrying the burden as the oldest sister for too long since their poor mother died."

Curiosity got the better of him. "How long?"

"Ten long years. She's a half a dozen years older than the middle girl, Caitlin, and seven years older than the baby, Grace."

"What about their father?"

"Joseph is a hard-working man," his aunt confided. "But he just about fell apart when Maureen died. Megan was nineteen at the time and just stepped into the role of mom for her younger sisters. She'd been working with her father full-time since the year before when she graduated from high school."

"So she's been shouldering quite a burden. It couldn't have been easy helping to raise two younger sisters who probably resented the fact that she was trying to step in for their mom."

His aunt nodded. "I knew you'd understand. You're a good man, Daniel, and I know you wouldn't try to break Meg's heart intentionally."

He needed to ask the next question, but it wasn't easy to get the words out. Finally, he asked, "Were they engaged?"

She laid her hand on his shoulder. "Daniel, I know what that girl did to you, and I think it's a sin. I'm just sorry I didn't live closer, or else I'd have taken care of her and that poor excuse for an exbest friend of yours."

"Thanks, Aunt Trudi."

"And I'm sure your grandfather will come around soon. He can't stay mad at you forever, especially since he knows the whole story-and since you gave him that Murder's Row signed baseball your great-grandfather gave to you."

He grinned.

"That went a long way toward making up for that nasty argument your grandfather had with his father. You just give it some more time and he'll come around. You'll see."

Feeling better about some things but worse about the rest, he asked, "What would you do if you discovered you have feelings for someone that you'd only just met and you'd... acted on those feelings... but then realized that you might have acted too quickly?"

"Depends on your definition of acting on those feelings, Daniel."

Busted. "You might be my only relative in Apple Grove, but there are certain things that I'm not willing to discuss." That certainly sounded prudish to him and from the look on his aunt's face, she thought so too.

"Fine, then. But it's your funeral if you dallied with Meg and have no intention of making an honest woman out of her."

"I just met her. Why would I want to jump into marriage with her?"

His aunt's gaze turned positively lethal. He didn't know she had it in her. "You obviously jumped into bed with her. Is she only good enough for the sex?"

"Jeez, Aunt Trudi!" He covered his face with his hands.

"I knew it!" She danced gleefully around her kitchen and for a moment he thought he'd gone over the edge into madness and he was in alternate universe where fairy tales were the reality and he was watching one of the little people dancing around a fire.

"I thought you knew!" he ground out, getting to his feet.

She stopped long enough to put her hands on her hips and glare up at him. "I figured you had. She's a beautiful woman, passionate-and you're an Eagan."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"The men in the Eagan family are known to be fabulous lovers."

He put his pointer fingers in his ears and started saying, "La la la la la... I don't want to hear anymore, Aunt Trudi."

She frowned and shook her finger in his face. "You're going to listen anyway."

He dropped his hands to his sides and sighed.

"If you do anything to hurt that girl, there will be a long line of people just waiting to beat the ever-living tar out of you."

He nodded.

"So whatever happened this morning to change your mind from last night, you go fix it."

"Yes, ma'am."

"And start courting that girl!"

He sighed and got to his feet. "Yes, ma'am."

"Oh, Daniel?"

"Yeah?"

"I've got a lovely bunch of late-season day lilies in the fridge in my shop. She'd love them."

How could he refuse? "Anything else?"

"Now that you mention it, Amelia Winter has a fresh-baked cherry pie for Meg. Be a dear and pick it up and deliver it to Meg when you give her the flowers."

He followed her back to her shop, moved the planters she needed taken care of, and swallowed his pride and walked to the back where she was holding up a huge bouquet of day lilies. "How much is this going to cost me?"

She beamed up at him. "Only your heart, Daniel."

He didn't want to admit that his aunt was right, that he'd overreacted this morning. Maybe he could make things right. He'd been acting out of fear-fear of the unknown as far as those two boys were concerned, tangled up with his past.

Meg had to understand.

"You are one in a million," he told his aunt, taking the flowers from her and bending down to wrap her in his arms.

She sighed and patted him on the back. "You're a good man, Daniel. Now go show that side to Meg and make her fall in love with what's inside of you. She's worth it."

He nodded, swallowing to ease the tightness in his throat. "Thanks."

He had already opened the driver's side door when he heard her calling his name. He looked over his shoulder.

She was smiling when she told him, "You are too."

He grinned. It was good to be in a new place, a new town, but it was even better to have family there. "I owe you, Aunt Trudi."

"Don't worry, I'll think of something you can do for me."

He was afraid she'd say that.

Dan was exhausted by the time he parked his car in the driveway. Walking through the doorway, he flicked the light switch and stood on the threshold and stared. His kitchen pretty much summed up how the morning had gone, with the dried-up remnants of the breakfast he'd prepared, hoping to show Meg that she was more than just one night to him. He couldn't quite figure out where he'd gone wrong and when he'd put his foot-up to his kneecap-in his mouth.

If he had to do it over again, he wondered if he'd screw it up again. Given his history-"Yeah," he rasped. "I probably would because there was no way I could keep my hands off of her."

He put the flowers in water and began to straighten his kitchen and put it to rights. He'd give them to Meg the next time he saw her. When the last of the ruined breakfast had been tossed in the garbage and the sticky plates stacked in the dishwasher, he opened the cabinet over the sink and reached for the bottle of aspirin. Shaking two into his hand, he poured a glass of water and downed the pain reliever.

He rubbed the back of his neck. "I'll call Mrs. Winter about Meg's pie tomorrow."

The lure of a hot shower had him detouring to the bedroom; he could always turn on the TV after he relaxed under the hot spray. Twenty minutes later, he was dressed in his favorite ratty sweatpants and sweatshirt and parked in front of the tube, but he just couldn't get comfortable. His conscience was eating at him.

"You are asking for trouble, Honey B."

"Actually, Mitch," she purred, "I've been practically begging for it for years now and you haven't done one thing about it."

For more than half of Meg's life, Sheriff Mitch Wallace had been the strong, stalwart figure upholding the law in Apple Grove. Watching his mouth open and close with no sound coming out, she realized he was just as vulnerable as any other person. She nearly applauded on the spot because two-thirds of the triumvirate were correct-the man wouldn't like Honey B.'s plans. Ah, she thought, but would he try to stop her?

"I think it's a great idea," Meg said, watching both of their faces for reactions. Honey's smile was like the cat who'd just finished a bowl of cream, while the sheriff's-well, he looked like he'd just taken a big bite of a rotten apple.

He turned around and glared at her. "If you think you're going to be signing up too," he warned, "you've got another think coming."

Wrong thing to say to a woman whose lady parts were still singing from their late-night marathon doing the hoochie-coochie. "You might be the law around here, but you have no jurisdiction over what happens on the Internet-in my life or Honey B.'s." She crossed her arms and waited for the fireworks.

The sheriff surprised her by keeping a lid on his temper, but his eyes were definitely the window to his soul-they burned like hot molten coals. "I do if I feel it crosses the line into Internet pornography."

Honey B. lunged past Meg, placed her hands in the middle of his chest, and shoved him toward the door. "Get out!" she yelled. "Why, if you were the last man in Apple Grove, and I was the last woman-"