"Look, Dash. Im fine, really. I have some things to do today and Ill just focus on them. Ive got the dogs for company and maybe Ill go for a walk later-maybe even down to that restaurant in Old Windsor for dinner, or an after-dinner drink if it doesnt cool down early enough. Ill be fine. Im sure you have places you need to be today." And maybe people he needed to see, but she didnt add that.

He didnt look any more reassured, but he took a step toward the door. "Call me if you need anything. You have my number."

"I do, but really, Ill be fine. Vivi also gave me her cell and home numbers, so Im well connected. Now, I actually do have some things I need to do today, so . . ." She let the end of her sentence hang. She didnt really have all that much to do, but if thinking she did gave him a reason to leave, then so be it.

"Right, of course."

She walked Dash to the door and watched him climb into his truck. He gave her one more wave before turning the truck around and heading down the drive. She let out a deep sigh that held some emotion, or, probably more likely, lots of emotion, and looked down at Isis at her side.

"We have chickens to feed, eggs to collect, and rabbits to cool down, Isis. And then maybe well bake some cookies. How does that sound, girl?" She reached down and scratched the dogs smooth red fur. Isiss tail wagged slowly from side to side, she wasnt one to show much emotion. Maybe thats why Matty felt such a kinship with her.

Dash drove to his next call, preoccupied with thoughts of Matty. Shed handled the situation well, probably better than he would have, had a body landed in the back of his truck. But still, when shed all but pushed him out of Brads house, he didnt miss the look of forced "fineness" on her face. She had told him more than once that she was fine. He knew she wasnt.

But hed driven away anyway. God, he was an ass. He hit the call button on his Bluetooth and dialed Jane because, despite being his annoying know-it-all older sister, she was still the only person who might understand what was going through his head. He sure as shit didnt.

"Dash?" she answered.

"Yeah, its me."

"And dont you sound cheery?" she responded. "What happened?"

And so he told her. Everything. He told her about Chen Zheng, turning Matty down for dinner, the body in the truck, and subsequently being hustled out of Brads house.

"A body? A real, live, dead body fell into her truck?" Jane repeated when hed finished talking.

He turned onto one of the many dirt roads that cut through the county. It was a more direct route to where he was going, if not a faster one. If he were honest with himself, which he was trying not to be, he was mostly just buying himself some time before having to be "Dr. Kent" again. "No, a real, dead, dead body," he responded.

His sister told him exactly what he could do with himself, then was quiet for a moment. "Wow, that sucks," she finally said. "Everyone in town is going to hear about it. And right on top of what happened just a few months ago. Id be surprised if the mayor is re-elected next year," his sister reflected.

"Jane."

"Right, you dont care whether the mayor gets re-elected or not. But honestly, Dash, Im not sure what you want me to say. Given what she does and the fact that she appeals to you, Im assuming she has a brain in her head. And youve turned her down twice, if Ive heard you correctly. She probably thinks youre not interested and were just offering to stick around to be nice. And since you cant even admit to yourself whether youre interested or not, can you blame her for kicking you out?"

"Its not like I wanted to stay and seduce her. I just wanted to stay to make sure she was okay, and she wouldnt let me do that," Dash pointed out.

Jane snorted. "Yeah, sure, whatever, Dash. You want to know what I think?"

"Probably not."

"Of course you do, thats why you called me. I think youre being an ass. I think you want to know she wants you as much as you want her because that would be the only thing that would make any sense."

"Youre not making sense, Jane."

"Only because youre being an ass. You cant explain or understand whats going on between the two of you and its making you feel insecure because you dont have the answer. And so, when she pushes you out the door telling you she can take care of herself, that she doesnt need you, your little male ego cant handle it and youre kind of freaking out."

"Im hardly freaking out, Jane," he pointed out as he made a turn onto County Road 7-a very controlled turn onto County Road 7, as if he were making a point.

"You are."

"Im not."

"Then why did you call me?"

Sometimes Dash hated his sister. "Because Im not sure what I should do."

"And you want to do something because, whether you like it or not, it kind of feels like a biological imperative that you do something, doesnt it?"

And strangely enough, that summed it up. He physically felt like he needed to be with Matty, that he needed to make her feel better, make her laugh, make sure she didnt feel worried or scared after what had happened that morning. It wasnt just the good manners his mother had taught him, or even common sense. It was something more primal than that. And he didnt often, if ever, think of himself as a primal kind of guy.

He grunted.

"It will get better when you just accept it."

"Im not ready for that."

"Clearly," Jane shot back. "And not to mention the fact that the way youve treated her certainly isnt going to make her acceptance any easier."

He had a fleeting image enter his mind, an image of him telling Matty about his family history. She was a city girl, raised in the projects. He didnt know about her transformation from a girl in the Bronx to a famous author in DC-something he hadnt mentioned to Jane-but he didnt doubt it took a lot of courage, confidence, and intelligence.

Matty would laugh at him if he told her.

"Dash?"

"Im at my next call, I need to go," he said, bringing his truck to a stop beside the barn of a longtime client.

"Youre avoiding me."

"For the moment," he responded.

"Just dont avoid it," she said, not needing to clarify what "it" was. "This thing that runs in the family, when it hits, it hits, Dash. There is nothing we can do to avoid it. And believe me, because I am speaking from experience; if you try to ignore it, it will only get worse."

"Sounds fun," he grumbled.

"It is, once this part is over. Trust me, it can be really fun."

Dash knew his sister believed what she was saying. He just wasnt there yet. He thanked her and made a mental note not to call her again until hed sorted this all out on his own, because she had done nothing to make him feel better.

But several hours later, when Dash pulled up to his own house, he felt even worse. He was nowhere near sorting it out on his own. Sure, hed put in a good days work, but every chance hed gotten, hed let his mind wander back to Matty and how she was coping with the events of the day.

His house, steeped in darkness and shadows, did nothing to lift his spirits. Neither did the warm, stuffy air that hit him when he walked through the door. He didnt tend to keep the air-conditioning on when he left for the day, but the fact that hed also forgotten to open any windows that morning served to make him even grumpier.

Stepping out of the shower a few minutes later, he stood naked in his closet staring at his clothes, neatly stacked on a few shelves. He could crawl into bed, he was that tired, or he could pull on a pair of boxers, jeans, and a t-shirt and head out to Andersons, the restaurant Matty had said she might walk to for dinner or a late evening drink.

He didnt even know if she would be there if he made the trip.

Which wasnt all that far.

He ran a hand over his face and through his damp hair. Letting out a deep breath, he grabbed a pair of boxers. Maybe his sister had a point; maybe he should just stop fighting it.

Walking into Andersons twenty minutes later, his eyes immediately found her sitting at the bar, sipping what looked like whiskey and chatting with the bartender, Amy. Hed only ever seen Matty in shorts and tank tops but tonight she wore a summer dress. A dress that rode up her thigh as she perched on the bar stool.

"Mind some company?" he asked as he came to her side.

She looked up with a surprised expression that was followed by a brief furrowing of her brow and a small frown. She seemed a little confused and he couldnt blame her. But he had to give her credit, the expression was fleeting and she gestured her acceptance with a nod at the stool beside her.

"I was hoping youd be here," he said as he signaled to Amy.

"Drinking the horrors away?" she said, her tone sardonic.

"So I could see how you are doing," he clarified.

"Im fine, but if you were that concerned, you could have stopped by the house. Or called."

He ignored her very rational response and ordered the same thing she was drinking, which turned out to be Lagavulin with one ice cube. "Have you eaten?" he asked.

Matty looked at him for a moment then turned her gaze back to the space behind the bar. "I just ordered a burger about five minutes ago. Amy said they were good."

"They are," he confirmed then placed an order for the same thing. "Want to move to a table?"

Dash knew, by the look on her face, that she was trying to figure him out, but not succeeding. She didnt look like she was going to tell him to go to hell, but it was a close call.

"Theres a storm coming in tonight and well have a good view," he said, picking up her drink and making the decision for her.

"Are you married?" she asked once theyd sat down. He choked on his drink.

When his throat cleared, he replied, "No, why would you ask that?"

"Dating someone?"

"No."

"Are you sure?" she pressed.

"Very," he answered.

Her light brown eyes searched his for a long moment before she finally seemed to come to some decision and she sat back and took a sip of her drink.

"Why do you ask?" he asked again.

"I cant get a read on you, Dash. It bothers me. One minute you look like you want to kiss me, at the very least, and the next youre bolting in the opposite direction. Id say thats common behavior for someone with commitment issues, but we dont even know each other well enough to reach that stage, so it doesnt make any sense to me."

Shed certainly called a spade a spade, but he wasnt ready to talk about it yet. "Its complicated. Ill tell you about it one day. In the meantime, why dont you tell me how you went from the Bronx to being Hilde Brooks, bestselling author?"

She drummed her fingers on her glass, very clearly debating whether or not to answer.

"I know you have no reason to trust me," he continued, "but things are a little complicated in my life right now." Since she came to town, more precisely, but he didnt say that. "Im sorting it out, but I can promise you, and you can ask anyone here, Im not married, never have been, nor am I dating anyone, seriously or otherwise."

She actually snorted at that. "Forgive me, but I have a hard time believing that."

"Right now," he clarified. "Im not seeing anyone seriously or otherwise, right now," he repeated, feeling his past creeping up on him. He wasnt a cad by any means, but when he felt the need for female company, he generally hadnt had a hard time finding it. Not something he thought Matty would appreciate hearing even if she already thought it.

"And as for wanting to kiss you, at the very least," he continued, using her words, "Im not going to deny that, but what I would really like, right now, is to just have some dinner, talk a little, and make sure you actually are okay, rather than you just telling me you are."

When he finished talking, her eyes searched his for just a few seconds before she turned her head, and her gaze, toward the window. He studied her profile as the first gusts of wind heralded the coming storm. He knew her to be up-front and figured, given what little he knew of her life, she must be strong. And her personality fit that assumption, too. She was confident, didnt get easily flustered, but was also quick to laugh and definitely didnt mince her words. But she had a delicate profile. Her eyes were more oval than round and her nose had a little upward tilt to it. Her lips were full, but not synthetically so, and her chin was in proportion to everything else.

"So you want to know about Hilde Brooks?" she asked, turning back to him.

"Im more interested in how you got to where you are than in hearing about where you are."

"The life story." Her lips tilted up into a small smile.

"Its bound to be more interesting than mine," he offered.

She inclined her head. "Well see, maybe not. But if I share, you have to share, too."

His life was an open book; he had no problem sharing and said so. "So, tell me how it all started," he prompted.

And for the next thirty minutes, she did. She talked, he asked questions, they laughed, food arrived, they ate, and he asked more questions. He learned from her that her mother had been the housekeeper in Brads Greenwich home when she caught the eye of the elder Brooks, a man very much under the thumb of his society wife.

Carmen, Mattys mother, was wise enough to know that she and Douglas Brooks werent in love, but she wasnt worldly enough to know how to stop the affair. And when she became pregnant and Sandra Brooks found out, Brads mom threatened to have Carmen deported if she told anyone or demanded any support. And again, Carmen wasnt experienced enough to know if it was even possible for Sandra to follow through on her threats; all she sensed was a threat to her life in the United States and the life of her unborn child. So shed left the Brooks home in the dark of night and went to the only place she could afford, the projects outside Manhattan.

"And you were born there?" Dash asked, taking a sip of the beer hed ordered when the whiskey in his glass had run dry.

"I was, and my mothers biggest rebellion against Sandra was to give me the Brooks name."

"And how long did you live there? Until you were twelve, right?" he asked, remembering she had mentioned a move to DC when theyd been waiting for Ian.

She nodded as a crash of thunder rolled by. Both of them turned to see the storm, in all its force, outside their cozy little window.

"Yes," she continued, her voice low. "My mother got really sick when I was twelve. She wasnt sure if she was going to live or not, so she wrote to Douglas, my dad, and asked for help. My grandmother, Douglass mom, intercepted the letter and took control of everything."

"Meaning?" he prompted, fighting the urge to reach across and run a finger down the bare skin of her arm.

"Meaning she rode in on her metaphorical white horse and rescued us. The Brooks family is an old family and a loaded one, too. Historically, theyve always been more aligned with the social democrat types, although Sandra definitely turned Douglas way more conservative than his mother."

"Which means?"

"Gran was horrified when she heard the story, and so embarrassed by her sons behavior, by his disregard for his child-that would be me," she added, pointing to herself with a smile, trying to make light of what couldnt have been a very good period in her life, "that she swept us off to her DC estate where I was properly schooled, dressed, fed, and very much loved. She also took care of my mother, who recovered from what ended up being a form of thyroid cancer."

"And Brads family, his mom and dad, what did they do?"

Matty laughed. "I knew of them, of course. And Id even seen pictures of them, but Sandra and Gran feuded over the incident for years, and Im pretty sure they all actually stopped talking for a long time. I dont really know what went on. To be honest, all I cared about was that my mom didnt have to work so hard, or at all, and that she wasnt going to die. It was icing on the cake when Gran hired my moms best friend Nanette to come be her cook so that Nanette and her daughter, my best friend Charlotte, could both move into the carriage house and be nearby."

"She sounds like a force of nature, your grandmother."

Matty smiled again. "She was." She paused and looked away again. Given her use of the past tense, Dash figured the woman must have died. And that Matty was still dealing with the loss.