was Roth.
She exhaled. “I suppose we could go to the Tipped Barrel. It’s fairly popular with some people.”
The Tipped Barrel was exactly where he wanted to go, only he’d intended to go there alone until Hadley began bemoaning her small difficulty with Wendell.
“And you?”
“Oh, I’ve never been there. Never been to any bar in my entire life, for that matter. When people see me there, they’ll be certain you’re corrupting me.” A glint sparked in her eyes and she smiled suddenly. Brilliantly. “Okay. I’ll do it. Let’s go.”
“You don’t want to change clothes or anything?”
Her enthusiasm visibly faltered and he felt like kicking himself when she looked down at herself. “Right,” she muttered. “Of course. How silly of—”
He caught her chin in his fingers and lifted. “You don’t need to change,” he said gruffly. He figured he wouldn’t win any awards by telling her he was used to dealing with far more high-maintenance women. “You’re perfect the way you are.”
She didn’t look convinced. And standing there touching her face—satin smooth and velvet soft and, if he wasn’t mistaken, completely devoid of artifice—wasn’t the smartest thing he’d ever done in his life. Because he definitely wasn’t soft. At all.
He lowered his hand. “It’s cold out. Do you want to get a warmer coat?”
Hadley nodded. She would probably never have an opportunity like this again. To dissuade Wendell by his own choice without her ever having to tell him she had absolutely no interest in him and hurting his poor feelings. “We’ll, um, need to walk,” she reminded him, ignoring the little voice inside her head that mocked her for not admitting that the appeal here had nothing whatsoever to do with Wendell. “Are you sure you want—”
“Get your coat, Hadley.”
She didn’t wait around for Wood to come to his senses and change his mind. She went and got her coat.
And if she ran a brush through her hair and spritzed on a little perfume that Evie had given her for Christmas to compensate for the sexless bulky parka she donned, then only she had to know.
Wood was waiting by the front door in his leather jacket.
Her steps faltered. She might be warmer, but he wouldn’t be. “You need a coat, too.”
He shrugged, unconcerned. “I’ll be fine.”
“We could stop by Shane’s and borrow one.”
“And give the good sheriff a chance to talk you out of this?” Wood opened the door and nudged her through. “Don’t think so.”
He had a point. She snatched the black muffler from her own neck though, and held it out to him. “At least use this. If you end up catching pneumonia or something, I’d never forgive myself.”
He took the long scarf and looped it around his neck. “Satisfied?”
“I would be if you had gloves, too.”
He smiled and grabbed her hand, then tucked them both, her mitten and all, in his pocket. “This’ll do.”
She gulped a little, and concentrated hard on not falling down the steps beside him.
The night was clear, the dark sky studded with stars, easily visible despite the glow of the streetlights as they walked toward town. Hadley gathered herself enough to point out different places as they walked. “That’s church row.” She gestured to a tree-lined turnoff. “My dad’s church—Lucius Community—and two others are on that street. It’s really called Poplar Avenue, but with the town’s only churches located there…” She shrugged. Even through her mitten she could feel the warmth of his long fingers wrapped around hers. The sensation was causing her to babble.
“Is there a hospital here?”
“A very small one. And we seem to have enough doctors and dentists to serve the town, fortunately. We even have a chiropractor.” She eyed him. “Stu got laid up a while back after he tangled with an ornery cow. Up to then, he’d never been to a chiropractor in his life. Now he’s a believer, though. I can give you his number if you’re sore from the accident.”
“I’m surviving,” he assured.
“But how does your forehead feel?”
His gaze slanted her way. “Like it tried to go through a windshield.”
She bit her lip. “I’m so sorry.”
His fingers squeezed hers a little. “Forget it.”
But, of course, she couldn’t. Their accident was the sole reason he was stuck in Lucius, and there was no point in pretending otherwise. Just because he’d chosen to pass the time helping her out of her situation with Wendell didn’t change anything, other than to prove what a really nice man he was.
They passed the sheriff’s office. The windows were dark. Shane was undoubtedly working on the house at the edge of town that he’d been building himself. In contrast, when they reached it, the Tipped Barrel was lit up like the Fourth of July. There was a spill of vehicles parked in front of the lively tavern. Her feet dragged to a halt, though, when she recognized one of them.
“What’s wrong?”
Hadley wished she could pretend she hadn’t seen her brother-in-law’s truck. “My sister’s husband is in there,” she said after a moment.
“Judging by the number of cars, it looks like half the county is in there. Popular like you said.”
“Yes.” She tugged her hand out of the warm safety of his pocket. “The last time Charlie went to the Tipped Barrel, he got in a bar fight. My sister and he are still paying off the damages. He’s not supposed to come here, at all.”
“Then call your brother. He’s the sheriff.”
Hadley started through the parking lot. “He is, and he’d probably have to lock Charlie up, and Charlie would lose his job, and Evie and my niece and nephews would be the ones to suffer the consequences. It’ll have to be me. I’ll just see you back at Tiff’s.
He snorted, and caught her arm. “Whoa. Hold on. You think I’m going to let you go in there on your own? You’ve never been in a bar, remember? What was your brother-in-law fighting about?”
“Who knows? If he was drinking, and why else would he have gone there—” she pointed accusingly at the tavern “—other than to drink? Then he wouldn’t need much reason. He’s not really pleasant when he drinks.”
“And your sister stays with him because he’s a great guy when he’s not drinking?”
Hadley sighed. She stepped around a pile of slushy mud. “I really wish you’d go back to Tiff’s.”
“Why?”
She stopped. Flopped her hands to her sides. “Because
