Geographic specials on Egypt.”
He laughed. “So do I.”
“I’d love to see the pyramids. All of them, even those in Mexico and Asia.”
“There are pyramids here in the States,” he reminded her. “Those huge earthen mounds that primitive people built were the equivalent of pyramids.”
She stopped dancing. “Why do you think they built them?”
“I don’t know. It’s just a guess. But most of the earthen mounds are near rivers. I’ve always thought maybe they were where the village went to get out of the water when it flooded.”
“It’s as good a theory as any other,” she agreed. “But what about in Egypt? I don’t think they had a problem with flooding,” she added, tongue in cheek.
“Now, see, there’s another theory about that. Thousands of years ago, Egypt was green and almost tropical, with abundant sources of water. So who knows?”
“It was green?” she exclaimed.
He nodded. “There were forests.”
“Where did you learn that?”
“I read, too. I think it was in Herodotus. They called him the father of history. He wrote about Egypt. He admitted that the information might not all be factual, but he wrote down exactly what the Egyptian priests told him about their country.”
“I’d like to read what he said.”
“You can borrow one of my books,” he offered. “I have several copies of his Histories.”
“Why?”
He grimaced. “Because I keep losing them.”
She frowned. “How in the world do you lose a book?”
“You’ll have to come home with me sometime and see why.”
Her eyes sparkled. “Is that an invitation? You know, ‘come up and see my books’?”
He chuckled. “No, it’s not a pickup line. I really mean it.”
“I’d like to.”
“You would?” His arm contracted. “When? How about next Saturday? I’ll show you my collection of maps, too.”
“Maps?” she exclaimed.
He nodded. “I like topo maps, and relief maps, best of all. It helps me to understand where places are located.”
She smiled secretively. “We could compare maps.”
“What?”
She sighed. “I guess we do have a lot in common. I think I’ve got half the maps Rand McNally ever published!”
Five
“Well, what do you know?” He laughed. “We’re both closet map fanatics.”
“And we love ancient history.”
“And we love shooting targets from the front porch.”
She glowered up at him.
He sighed. “I’ll try to reform.”
“You might miss and shoot Sammy,” she replied.
“I’m a dead shot.”
“Anybody can miss once,” she pointed out.
“I guess so.”
They’d stopped on the dance floor while the band got ready to start the next number. When they did, he whirled her around and they started all over again. Jillian thought she’d never enjoyed anything in her life so much.
Ted walked her to the front door, smiling. “It was a nice first date.”
“Yes, it was,” she agreed, smiling back. “I’ve never had so much fun!”
He laughed. She made him feel warm inside. She was such an honest person. She wasn’t coy or flirtatious. She just said what she felt. It wasn’t a trait he was familiar with.
“What are you thinking?” she asked curiously.
“That I’m not used to people who tell the truth.”
She blinked. “Why not?”
“Almost all the people I arrest are innocent,” he ticked off. “They were set up by a friend, or it was a case of mistaken identity even when there were eyewitnesses. Oh, and, the police have it in for them and arrest them just to be mean. That’s my personal favorite,” he added facetiously.
She chuckled. “I guess they wish they were innocent.”
“I guess.”
She frowned. “There’s been some talk about that man you arrested for the bank robbery getting paroled because of a technicality. Is it true?”
His face set in hard lines. “It might be. His attorney said that the judge made an error in his instructions to the jury that prejudiced the case. I’ve seen men get off in similar situations.”
“Ted, he swore he’d kill you if he ever got out,” she said worriedly.
He pursed his lips and his dark eyes twinkled. “Frightened for me?”
“Of course I am.”
He sighed and pulled her close. “Now, that’s exactly the sort of thing that makes a man feel good about himself, when some sweet little woman worries about him.”
“I’m not little, I’m not sweet and I don’t usually worry,” she pointed out.
“It’s okay if you worry about me,” he teased. “As long as you don’t do it excessively.”
She toyed with the top button of his unbuttoned jacket. “There are lots of safer professions than being a police chief.”
He frowned. “You’re kidding, right?”
She grimaced. “Ted, Joe Brown’s wife was one of my uncle’s friends. She was married to that deputy sheriff who was shot to death a few years ago. She said that she spent their whole married lives sitting by the phone at night, almost shaking with worry every time he had to go out on a case, hoping and praying that he’d come home alive.”
His hands on her slender waist had tightened unconsciously. “Anyone who marries someone in law enforcement has to live with that possibility,” he said slowly.
She bit her lower lip. She was seeing herself sitting by the phone at night, pacing the floor. She was prone to worry anyway. She was very fond of Ted. She didn’t want him to die. But right now, she wasn’t in love. She had time to think about what
