He roared away, sirens still going.

Stuart glanced wryly at Ivy. "I suppose we've talked enough for one night. I don't fancy fighting off drug dealers at this hour."

"Neither do I," she agreed, but there was disappointment about having to come down from the clouds. It had been a sweet few minutes.

"I'm not anxious to leave, either, Ivy," he said as he started the car. "But there's a time and place, and this isn't it."

With that enigmatic statement, he pulled the car back into the highway, and sped toward her boardinghouse. They arrived there too soon.

He got out of the car, opened her door and walked her to her front door. He noted the quick flutter of a curtain with an amused smile, and then positioned them where no windows intruded. He took her by the waist and looked down into her sad eyes in the porch light. "I shouldn't have told you about your father like that," he said apologetically. "I'm sorry."

"The tabloids wouldn't have been very kind about it, if I'd had to hear it from them," she said philosophically. "Thanks for the heads-up."

His big hands tightened on her small waist. "Go see Copper," he coaxed. "He'll do what he can to help you find out, one way or another. I'll take care of the bill. I'll tell him that, too," he added.

"All right."

"And don't worry yourself to death about your sister," he said firmly. "If the situation was reversed, I promise she wouldn't waste a night's sleep about you."

"I know that. But she's still the only family I have left in the world."

He drew in an audible breath. "That doesn't help, I'm sure." He bent and brushed his mouth gently over her soft, sensitized lips. She stood on her tiptoes to increase the pressure, shivering a little when he accepted the silent invitation and gathered her in close, so that they were riveted together, hip to hip.

She'd never known such pleasure. It felt as sweet as it had in his car, but much more intense. Her nails dug into the hard muscles of his shoulders as she gave in to the sheer delight of being close to him.

When she moaned, he drew back. His hands were briefly cruel as he fought the need to back her into the wall and devour her. He had to force himself to let her go.

She saw that, and was fascinated by the sudden change in him. It was so sweet to kiss him, beyond her wildest dreams of delight.

"We can't do much more of that," he whispered. "Not in public."

"Are we in public?" she whispered back, dazed.

He drew in a long breath. "If I don't stop kissing you, we're going to be. It's sweet, Ivy. Sweeter than my dreams."

"Sweeter than mine, too," she confessed, aching to have his mouth on hers again.

He knew that, but he had to be strong for both of them. It wasn't the place. He held her gently by the waist. "I have to fly to Denver for a conservation workshop. I'll call you when I get there."

She stared up at him with her heart flipping around. Her surprise was noticeable.

He searched her wide eyes. "Times change. So do people. You're twenty-one next month, aren't you?"

She nodded, spellbound.

He looked very somber for a minute. "Still years too young," he murmured as he bent his head. "But what the h.e.l.l..."

He lifted her up against him and kissed her until her mouth felt bruised. She didn't complain. She held on for dear life, her arms tight around his neck, her feet just barely touching the floor at all. If this was a dream, she never wanted to wake up.

When she moaned softly, he put her back on her feet and let her go abruptly. His breathing was noticeably faster. "Stay out of trouble," he told her.

"I don't ever get into trouble," she replied dimly, her eyes on his hard mouth.

He smiled slowly. "Yes, but that was before."

"Before what?" she asked.

He bent and kissed her quickly. "Before me. Lock the door behind you."

He was walking away before she realized what he'd said. He was hinting at a new relationship between them. It made her breath catch in her throat. Her eyes followed him hungrily all the way to his car. He started it and turned on the lights, but he didn't budge. Finally she realized that he wasn't going until she was inside. She smiled at that protectiveness, which was so alien to their relationship. She waved, went inside and closed the door. Only when she turned off the porch light did she hear the car driving away.

Next morning at breakfast, Mrs. Brown and Lita were beaming at her, both affectionately amused.

"Have fun last night, dear?" Mrs. Brown asked. "I noticed that Sheriff Hayes didn't bring you home. Wasn't that Stuart York's car?"

"Yes, it was," Ivy confessed, and hated the warm color that blushed her cheeks. "Hayes had a call and had to leave."

"We heard on the radio that there was a shootout," Lita said. "Deputy Clark was admitted to the hospital with a gunshot wound."

"So was one of the suspects," Mrs. Brown said shortly. "They said Hayes got him."

"We saw him on the way home," Ivy confessed, but not how they'd seen him, or where. "He said the deputy was shot in the hip. He didn't mention the drug dealers getting shot, too."

"It was the one who went missing when they stopped the truck," Mrs. Brown said. "My daughter works as a dispatcher," she reminded the other women. "She said he was hiding in a chicken coop just off the highway. Hayes saw chickens flying out of the coop and went to investigate." She chuckled. "People shut their chickens up at sunset to keep them from getting eaten by foxes or racc.o.o.ns. n.o.body turns them out at night. Sure enough, there was this miserable little drug dealer, hiding there. He shot at Hayes and missed. Hayes didn't."

Ivy shook her head. "He takes so many chances," she said. "It will take a brave woman to marry him."

"Probably why no woman ever has," Lita remarked. "He was always a hothead, even when he was in high school. Always taking risks. He joined the police force when he was just seventeen. I guess his father influenced him."

"His father was a lovely man," Ivy remarked with a smile. "He loved flowers, did you know? He always had the most beautiful garden of them, and everybody thought it was his wife who did all the planting. But it wasn't."

"I'll bet Hayes doesn't raise flowers," Mrs. Brown remarked.

"He had a younger brother," Lita continued, frowning, "who died of a drug overdose. You know, they never found the person who bought him that bad batch of cocaine that did him in. They say that Hayes is out to get his brother's killer, that he'll never quit until the drug dealer goes to prison." She sighed. "He still thinks that Minette Raynor gave that drug to Bobby Carson, but I don't. Minette isn't the sort."

Ivy nodded. "I know, but he won't see it that way. He never stops once he's got a suspect in view. That's sort of scary, in a way."

"Makes me feel safe," Mrs. Brown chuckled. "I like knowing he doesn't let criminals get away."

"Me, too," Ivy had to admit. But she was thinking about Stuart and their changed relationship, going through the motions of eating and behaving normally. Inside, she was blazing with new hungers, new hope.

She went out to see her clients that day, but she was missing Stuart and waiting, hoping, for a phone call. She knew that he could have been joking. Maybe he'd just said it to tease. But the look in his eyes on the porch had been possessive, acquisitive. Her heart jumped every time she remembered how that last, desperate kiss had felt. Surely something so powerful had to be shared. After all, she hadn't been the only one breathing hard after the hungry kisses they'd shared. It was just that Stuart was older and more experienced. Maybe to him it was just a pleasant few minutes. To her, it was a taste of heaven.

Merrie called her at lunchtime, just to talk. Ivy was having a sandwich at Barbara's Cafe, but she didn't taste it. When the phone rang, she jumped to pull it out of her purse and answer it. It had to be Stuart. It had to be!

"Hi," Merrie said cheerfully.

"Oh. Hi," Ivy replied, trying to compose herself and not let her disappointment show. "How are you?"

"Lonely. You need to come spend a weekend with me," Merrie said. "I'm coming home next weekend. How about it?"

Once, Ivy would have jumped at the chance. Now, she was keeping secrets from her best friend. She didn't know whether she should agree. What she felt for Stuart might show, if she was under his roof. She didn't want Merrie to see it. Not yet. It was too new, too private, too precious to share. And what if he didn't want her around there at all? What if he'd just been playing some sophisticated game to which she didn't know the rules? Her insecurities floated to the top like cream in a churn.

"Ivy, you don't have to worry about me," Merrie said before Ivy could speak. Her tone was subdued, quiet. "I won't interfere."

"Excuse me?"

Merrie drew in a breath. "Hayes is a great catch."

Ivy was speechless. "Hayes?"

"He seems to like you a lot. He was really happy last night."

Now here was a problem she didn't know how to resolve. She couldn't admit that she was crazy about Merrie's brother, for fear that her friend might tease Stuart or do something to make him draw back from Ivy. On the other hand, she wasn't involved with Hayes and wasn't ever likely to be.

"Hayes is very nice," she compromised. "But he doesn't want to get serious about anyone, and neither do I. I don't want to get married for years yet. I want to enjoy being out on my own, and being single."

There was another sigh, but this one sounded strange. "Then, you're not involved with Hayes?"

"We're friends, Merrie. That's all."

"I'm glad," she said. "By the way, have you heard anything, about how he is?" Merrie added after a minute. "I heard that there was a shootout and someone got shot apprehending a drug dealer. Was it Hayes?"

"No!" Ivy said. "It was one of his deputies. One of the suspects got shot, too. Hayes is fine."

"Thank G.o.d."

"You've known Hayes a long time," Ivy recalled.

"Yes, since he used to stay with us when his father and mother had to go out of town to see about her parents in Georgia. Even though he was Stuart's friend, I always felt as if he were part of my family. He's a lot older than me, of course. Like someone I know in San Antonio," she added enigmatically.

The age difference between Merrie and Hayes was about the same as that between Stuart and Ivy. Stuart didn't seem to have a problem with it anymore, if his new att.i.tude toward Ivy was any indication. So maybe there was hope for Merrie.

"He's not that much older, Merrie," Ivy said gently.

"Stuart thinks he is."

There was an edge in that usually calm tone. "He's your brother. He loves you. He just thinks..." She stopped at once.

"He thinks what?" Merrie prompted.

"He thinks that Hayes's profession puts him out of the running for you," she said reluctantly. "Hayes does take chances, Merrie. He can be a lot of fun, but under it all is a man who takes risks, who walks right into gun battles. Stuart's just thinking about what's best for you."

"So that's what's been eating him lately," Merrie said dryly. "Old worrywart. But no relative, no matter how caring, can decide your life for you, you know."

"I know that. Merrie, Stuart loves you. He'd want you to marry someone you love."

There was a husky laugh. "Think so?"

"Yes."

"Well. That's something."

"You're very depressed. Why don't you come to the boardinghouse and have supper with us tonight? You know Mrs. Brown wouldn't mind. I could phone her."

"No. Thanks, anyway, but we've got a flu epidemic. I can't be spared, with so many health care workers out sick."

"Maybe when it's all over..." She let her voice trail off.

"Yes. I'd love it."

"Take care of yourself," Ivy said. "And stop worrying about everything. Life evens out. Wishes come true."

"Sure they do," Merrie said cynically.

"I mean it. They do!"

Merrie sighed. "You always did believe in fairies."

"Angels, too, don't forget."

"If I have a guardian angel, he's asleep at the wheel."

"Stop that. Come and see me when you can."

"How about that invitation to spend the weekend?" Merrie persisted. "You and Stuart weren't fighting, for a change, at the dance. You might enjoy it."

"I'll let you know," Ivy said, stalling. "I've got a new client."

"You and your blessed clients. Okay, then. Call me?"

"I'll call you. Take care, Merrie."

"You, too."

Ivy hung up. Poor Merrie.

She waited and waited, but there was no other phone call. She even checked to make sure the phone was working. By late evening, she was certain she'd misunderstood what Stuart had said. He was probably just joking. But he wasn't a man who usually cracked jokes.

She got ready for bed, climbed under the covers and was just about to turn out the light when the phone began to ring noisily.

Heart pounding, she leaped out of bed and upended her purse to find the small flip phone. She opened it with trembling hands and put it to her ear. "h.e.l.lo?"

There was a deep, soft chuckle. "Dived for the phone, did you?"

She laughed breathlessly. "Yes," she confessed.

"I would have waited. I told you I'd call."