and outrunning the sheriff of the day. Though that was in his past, he still held a reputation for being a risk-taker, not the kind of person Hannah could allow herself, a widowed mother of two, to be attracted to. The admiration in Lilibeth’s voice at Brody’s apparent recklessness only underlined Hannah’s previous assessment of Brody Harcourt.
In spite of that, when he turned back to her and his smile deepened, she was unable to look away from his dark gaze.
Again Hannah pushed down her foolish reaction, not sure what was wrong with her these days. It seemed that she’d had romance on her mind lately. She wanted to blame it on her friend Julie’s recent engagement or the plans for the Old Tyme wedding coming up next month, but the truth was, she’d been feeling lonely the past few months. The first year after David’s death, she had been on autopilot, trying to absorb the reality that her husband of only a couple of months was killed so soon after shipping out to Afghanistan. She had often felt that their brief marriage was an illusion, even though the twins that came of that marriage certainly weren’t.
“I understand you’re the person I need to talk to about reserving a booth at the fair?” Brody said, resting his elbows on the counter and leaning closer. “It’s for the firefighters.”
“I’ll get the form you need,” she said as the door of the hall opened again and Rusty Zidek came in. He pulled off his worn, brown, cowboy hat, smoothed down his gray hair and brushed his impressive cookie duster of a mustache. In spite of being ninety-six years old, Rusty managed to keep his finger on the pulse of what happened in Jasper Gulch. He and his Mule were often seen putt-putting down Main Street as Rusty sought out people to talk to and things to find out. Hannah wondered what he wanted from her today.
Rusty settled himself slowly into a chair beside Robin. She turned to him, asking him questions about Jasper Gulch. From the way Robin scribbled notes as he talked, Hannah assumed they would be busy awhile.
The phone rang just then and with an apologetic look toward Brody, Hannah answered it and set the application form for the booth on top of the counter, next to Brody’s hand.
As she did, she noticed Lilibeth had captured his attention again by batting long, thick eyelashes that Hannah suspected were glued on rather than natural. Lilibeth had her head cocked to one side, her finger resting on her cheek, her eyelashes fluttering, her smile showing off perfectly spaced teeth.
And for a moment, Hannah was surprised herself that Lilibeth hadn’t won the Miss Jasper Gulch contest. But what surprised Hannah even more was the faint uptick of jealousy Lilibeth’s flirtation created in her.
“So I hope I filled this out right,” Brody said, looking back at Hannah when she was done with her phone call. As he handed her the paper, their fingers brushed. A spark of awareness tingled down her arm and then his eyes locked with hers. His smile seemed to soften and deepen and her heart did a goofy little dance in her chest.
Then reality hit. She couldn’t help comparing herself, a harried mother of two toddlers who barely had time to run a brush through her hair, let alone apply makeup, to fresh-faced Lilibeth, who looked put together enough to be in a fashion magazine. Though she doubted Brody would be attracted to a nineteen-year-old, the comparison still made her feel old and worn-out.
“Looks good, Mr. Harcourt,” Hannah said, pushing down the futile emotions. “I look forward to seeing what the firefighters come up with.”
“And if I have any questions?”
“Just come to me.” Hannah hoped she sounded businesslike and not like a breathless schoolgirl in the presence of her crush. “Have a good day.” Then she looked past him as Robin got up to walk toward the counter.
“Can I help you, Robin?” Hannah asked, effectively dismissing both Brody and Lilibeth.
Brody paused a moment as if he did, indeed, have a question. But then Robin stepped up to the counter and he turned and stepped aside, smiling at a joke Lilibeth was telling him.
“Nice-looking couple,” Robin said as she set her folder of papers on the divider.
They’re not a couple, Hannah wanted to say, but she stopped herself. What did it matter to her that Robin thought Brody and Lilibeth were together?
“I returned those papers you lent me,” Robin continued, handing an envelope back to Hannah. “Though the documents were interesting, I was hoping to find out more about some of the occupations of the extended Shaw family. Olivia said to talk to you.”
Hannah bit her lip, thinking. “I’ll see what I can find. Mayor Shaw might have that information, as well.”
“I don’t want to bother him,” Robin murmured.
“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it,” Hannah assured her, then had to apologize as she answered the phone again. Her day didn’t look as if it would be slowing down anytime soon.
Or her life. She gave another quick glance at Brody, holding open the door for Lilibeth, then turned her attention back to her work. She had no space in her life for a man like him.
* * *
Well, that didn’t go as well as he had hoped.
Brody Harcourt dropped his hat on his head and heaved out a sigh as he held the door of the town hall open for Lilibeth Shoemaker. He had been the one to pitch the idea of setting up a booth for the firefighters at the fair precisely because he had hoped he could spend some time with Hannah Douglas.
Brody had been a senior in high school when he and his parents first moved to their new ranch in Jasper Gulch, and already then Hannah Douglas, with her gentle smile and perky demeanor, had caught his attention. But other than one summer when he was graduated and she and David had briefly split up, she had always been David Douglas’s girl.
Now she was David Douglas’s widow and the mother of his twins and, from the way she had just treated him, still not interested in him.
“If I make a basket, you’ll have to make sure to bid on it,” Lilibeth was saying to him. “I’ll let you know what it looks like.”
“Isn’t that against the rules?” he said as he tugged his cell phone out of his pocket.
Lilibeth simpered at him, then shrugged. “My sisters do it all the time.”
“I might be too busy to bid anyway,” Brody said, giving a quick glance at the screen. A text from his friend Dylan. He was already at the café and waiting for him.
“Well, you set some time aside for me,” Lilibeth gave him a coy smile, then sashayed down Main Street.
“She’s quite the spitfire, isn’t she?”
Rusty Zidek’s gravelly voice behind Brody made him spin around. “Yeah, she is,” he agreed, looking back at Lilibeth, who shot him one last look over her shoulder as she stepped into her car.
“She seems overly upset lately about not winning the Miss Jasper Gulch contest,” Rusty continued, stroking his mustache, his grin showing the glint of a gold tooth.
“Her pride probably got bruised. Two of her sisters won before and I think she’s feeling the sting of sisterly competition.” Brody gave the elderly man a quick smile. “I have two sisters. They’re always one-upping each other. Clothes, boyfriends, jobs.”
