at all. Once that happened, she wouldn’t have a chance to see things rationally.
Ted could almost see the thoughts in her mind. Slowly he released her and stepped back.
She felt the distance, and it was more than physical. He was drawing away in every sense.
She looked up at him. She drew in a long breath. “I’m not sure I’m ready, Ted.”
“Ready for what?”
That stiffness in him was disturbing, but she had to be honest. “I’m not sure I’m ready to think about marriage.”
His black eyes narrowed. “Jillian, if we don’t get married, there’s a California developer who’s going to make this place into hot real estate with tourist impact, and Sammy could end up on a platter.”
She felt those words like a body blow. Her eyes, tormented, met his. “But it’s not fair, to rush into something without having time to think about it!” she exclaimed. “The wills didn’t say we have to get married tomorrow! There’s no real time limit!”
There was, but he wasn’t going to push her. She had cold feet. She didn’t know him that well, despite the years they’d been acquainted, and she wasn’t ready for the physical side of marriage. She had hang-ups, and good reasons to have them.
“Okay,” he said after a minute. “Suppose we just get to know each other and let the rest ride for a while? ”
“You mean, go on dates and stuff?”
He pursed his lips. “Yes. Dates and stuff.”
She noticed how handsome he was. In a crowd, he always stood out. He was a vivid sort of person, not like she was at all. But they did enjoy the same sorts of things and they got along, most of the time.
“I would like to see your place,” she said.
“I’ll come and get you Saturday morning,” he said quietly.
He waited for her answer with bridled impatience. She could see that. He wasn’t sure of her at all. She hated being so hesitant, but it was a rushed business. She would have to make a decision in the near future or watch Uncle John’s ranch become a resort. It didn’t bear thinking about. On the other hand, if she said yes to Ted, it would mean a relationship that she was certain she wasn’t ready for.
“Stop gnawing your lip off and say yes,” Ted told her. “We’ll work out the details as we go along.”
She sighed. “Okay, Ted,” she said after a minute.
He hadn’t realized that he’d been holding his breath. He smiled slowly. She was going to take the chance. It was a start.
“Okay.” He frowned. “You don’t have any low-cut blouses and jeans that look like you’ve been poured into them, do you? ”
“Ted!”
“Well, I was just wondering,” he said. “Because if you do, you can’t wear them over at my place. We have a dress code.”
“A dress code.” She nodded. “So your cowboys have to wear dresses.” She nodded again.
He burst out laughing. He bent and kissed her, hard, but impersonally, and walked down the steps. “I’ll see you Saturday.”
“You call that a kiss?” she yelled after him, and shocked herself with the impertinent remark that had jumped out of her so impulsively.
But he didn’t react to it the way she expected. He just threw up his hand and kept walking.
They worked side by side in his kitchen making lunch. He was preparing an omelet while she made cinnamon toast and fried bacon.
“Breakfast for lunch,” she scoffed.
“Hey, I very often have breakfast for supper, if I’ve been out on a case,” he said indignantly. “There’s no rule that says you have to have breakfast in the morning.”
“I suppose not.”
“See, you don’t know how to break rules.”
She gasped. “You’re a police chief! You shouldn’t be encouraging anybody to break rules.”
“It’s okay as long as it’s only related to food,” he replied.
She laughed, shaking her head.
“You going to turn that bacon anytime soon?” he asked, nodding toward it, “or do you really like it raw on one side and black on the other?”
“If you don’t like it that way, you could fry it yourself.”
“I do omelets,” he pointed out. “I don’t even eat bacon.”
“What?”
“Pig meat,” he muttered.
“I like bacon!”
“Good. Then you can eat it. I’ve got a nice country ham all carved up and cooked in the fridge. I’ll have that with mine.”
“Ham is pig meat, too!”
“I think of it as steak with a curly tail,” he replied.
She burst out laughing. He was so different off the job. She’d seen him walking down the sidewalk in town, somber and dignified, almost unapproachable. Here, at home, he was a changed person.
“What are you brooding about?” he wondered.
“Was I? I was just thinking how different you are at home than at work.”
“I should hope so,” he sighed, as he took the omelet up onto a platter. “I mean, think of the damage to my image if I cooked omelets for the prisoners.”
“Chief Barnes used to,” she said. “I remember Uncle John talking about what a sweet man he was. He’d take the prisoners himself to funerals when they had family members die, and in those days, when the jail was down the hall from the police department, he’d cook for them, too.”
“He was a kind man,” Ted agreed solemnly.
“To think that it was one of the prisoners who killed him,” she added quietly as she turned the bacon. “Of all the ironies.”
“The man was drunk at the time,” Ted said. “And, if you recall, he killed himself just a few weeks later while he was waiting for trial. He left a note saying he didn’t want to put the chief’s family through any more pain.”
“Everybody thought that was so odd,” she said. “But people forget that murderers are just like everybody else. They aren’t born planning to kill people.”
“That’s true. Sometimes it’s alcohol or drugs that make them do it. Other times it’s an impulse they can’t control. Although,” he added, “there are people born without a conscience. They don’t mind killing. I’ve seen them in the military. Not too many,
