would only cause his fussiness to escalate another notch.
“He’s such a good child,” Winifred Averill commented as Kit set the plate on the elderly woman’s table. “Shame about his momma, but that Lucy Kane always was a wild thing. Lucky for her she had you for a friend. Otherwise there’s no telling what might have happened to that little boy.”
“Yes, ma’am, Nathan is a good child,” Kit agreed, trying not to bristle at Winifred’s judgmental tone. She was well into her eighties, had lived her entire life in the small town of Belle and hadn’t ever had a shy bone in her body. Her tendency toward plainspokenness could often be unsettling, but she had never been intentionally malicious. “And I was the lucky one to have had Lucy for my friend. She brightened my life with her fun-loving ways, and she truly cared about Nathan. I was honored when she asked me to be his godmother and named me as his guardian in her will.”
“Hard to believe how his daddy’s shirked all responsibility, and him coming from such a fine family, not to mention seeming like such a fine young man himself.”
“Yes, it is hard to believe,” Kit replied.
“Too bad he can’t grow up here in Belle. But you were never as happy in this little town as your momma, or his momma, for that matter. Always had a yen for the big city, didn’t you, Miss Kit?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You were dead set on going away to college and you found a way to do it. Won a scholarship, got your undergraduate degree, then started working on a master’s degree, your momma said. Majoring in psychology so you could listen to folks talk about their problems. Just like your momma did here at the Dinner Belle, and she didn’t need any fancy college degree to give good advice. “Chuckling softly, Winifred Averill stirred her eggs into her potatoes, adding, “I sure am going to miss this place when you close up at the end of the summer.”
“I’m hoping to have a buyer before then so closing up won’t be necessary. In fact, I’ve already had a few inquiries,” Kit said.
Two, to be exact, and neither couple had pursued their interest in the diner beyond an initial inquiry. But she wasn’t about to set Mrs. Averill off again by admitting as much aloud.
Kit didn’t want to have to close the Dinner Belle for good. But neither did she want to give up the life she’d made for herself in Seattle to run a diner in a small Montana town for the rest of her God-given days. She had gladly taken a leave from her graduate studies at the University of Washington to help out at home when her mother first became ill, and she had stayed on after her mother’s death for the sole purpose of keeping the diner going until it could be sold. Then Lucy had been killed in a tragic accident on an icy back road, and suddenly Kit had also had a precious little boy to raise all on her own.
“Couple of years ago I would have bought the place myself,” Winifred continued, interrupting Kit’s reverie. “But I don’t have as much energy now as I did when I was eighty-five.”
“That’s understandable, ma’am.” Kit hid a smile as she met the woman’s gaze. “Would you like more coffee?”
“Just a smidgen to warm up my cup, if it isn’t too much trouble.”
“No trouble at all.”
As Kit turned to get the coffeepot from the warmer behind the counter, the tinkle of the little bell on the diner’s front door announced the arrival of another customer. Likely just another local, she thought, eager to refill Mrs. Averill’s coffee cup and get back to the kitchen.
She hadn’t gone very far when the murmur of voices among the other customers sitting in the diner stilled, and into the silence Winifred Averill’s voice rang out, loud and clear.
“Well, well, well…speak of the devil,” she said, sounding not only amazed, but also quite pleased.
Curious as to why everyone’s attention had been caught so completely, not to mention what had prompted Winifred’s comment, Kit glanced over her shoulder, checking out the newcomer as he closed the door, then paused a long moment to survey the friendly faces turned his way.
It took Kit only a moment to recognize the tall, dark, handsome man, his curly black hair a shade too long, his bright blue eyes vivid in his tanned face, not a spare ounce of fat on his rangy body. So, too, it seemed, did all the local residents in the diner. Hearty greetings echoed around the room, accompanied by handshakes here and there, as one of Belle’s most favored sons moved slowly down the diner’s center aisle, a charmingly boyish grin on his smoothly shaven face.
Simon Gilmore took his own sweet time responding to one and all in a low voice laced with good humor. Standing near Winifred Averill’s table, all but frozen to the spot, her hands clenched at her sides, Kit eyed him with a growing sense of dread. In that instant she wanted more than anything to take Nathan from his playpen and hurry out the back door of the diner just as quickly as she could.
Her more sensible self knew that taking such action would be foolhardy, though. She could run from Simon Gilmore now, but she wouldn’t be able to hide from him forever. Behaving in a cowardly manner would only give him a weapon he could use against her. And, she reminded herself as she took a steadying breath, he could very well have any number of reasons for returning to Belle that didn’t involve Nathan Kane.
Three years ago, Simon hadn’t been able to get out of town fast enough when he’d found out Lucy was pregnant. And he hadn’t been back since. More importantly, neither he nor his wealthy parents had ever acknowledged their relationship to the little boy. They hadn’t contributed to his support while Lucy was alive. And in the three months since her death, neither Mitchell and Deanna, owners of one of the largest and most prosperous cattle ranches in the state, nor their only child, Simon, had come forward to claim the little boy.
There was Lucy’s last will and testament to consider, as well. She had wanted Kit to be the one to raise her child should she be unable to do so herself, and in a surprising act for one normally so happy-go-lucky, she had stated as much in her will.
Although Kit’s formal adoption of Nathan had yet to be finalized by the court, as far as she was concerned, he was already her child in every way that counted. Anyone who tried to take him away from her—including Simon Gilmore—would be in for a fight.
No amount of determination could completely overcome the shock of seeing Simon again, however. The steely core of resolution that had developed deep within her over the years wouldn’t allow Kit to be intimidated by him. But at the same time she couldn’t deny a lingering sense of vulnerability toward him—a vulnerability firmly rooted in the past.
Lucy hadn’t been the only one attracted to Simon Gilmore all those years ago. But the memory of how Simon had toyed with her best friend’s affection on and off for several years, only to dump her unceremoniously when he found out she was carrying his child, was all Kit needed to gather her scattered wits about her. With a grim twist of her lips, she straightened her spine, unwilling to be intimidated by someone so callow and insensitive.
Almost upon her, Simon finally met her gaze for the first time since he’d entered the diner. He stopped dead and did a double take that Kit would have actually found amusing under other circumstances. Then he moved toward her with a determined glint in his eyes, his grin suddenly wolfish.
Her stomach fluttering unnaturally, Kit stared at him, her mind suddenly muddled, unable to move or to speak.
Halting again only inches from her, Simon put his hands on her
