was one of the few people here with whom he felt genuinely comfortable talking, at least beyond exchanging simple, civil niceties.
She was brutally honest, but he found he liked that in a woman—or at least, this woman.
Besides, she was a real trip to be around. He never knew what to expect with her. Never knew what she would say or do. In his staid and somewhat stoic life, she was a refreshing breath of air.
He’d never before been in as intimate a situation with her as this lunch situation proposed, but she was a close friend of the McGuires and had been introduced to him early on in his stay at Safe Harbor as someone he particularly ought to get to know. Perhaps there had even been a certain suggestive gleam in his old friend Robert’s eyes. And since she also worked in the clinic with him, he’d had ample opportunity to get to know her.
At least superficially.
This was the first time she’d shared any information of any real depth with him, though she was certainly friendly enough in offering cursory details of her life. He’d always known there was more to her than she was letting on, layers she was merely hinting at in her conversation.
But whatever she had tucked away in that pretty head of hers had remained that way, and he’d respected that privacy up until now.
He had his own secrets to keep, too.
But now, he’d accidentally scratched beneath the surface of Gracie’s because of the guess he’d made about her desire to leave Safe Harbor. Which was, he mused uneasily, nothing more than conjecture for him.
Who would have known a man like him, who preferred a medical manual to any kind of emotion whatsoever, would be able to come remotely close to—never mind actually being able to guess—the inner motives of a young woman with so much going for her right here in town?
Gracie loudly cleared her throat, and Kyle was pulled from his musings to discover she was staring at him as if he’d grown two heads.
He shrugged his shoulders and flashed her a crooked, apologetic grin.
“Let’s walk to the restaurant,” Gracie suggested, stepping one foot off the curb and looking back, eagerly holding her hand out for him to follow and smiling in earnest.
Kyle readily agreed. How could he resist? It was a warm spring afternoon, slightly exceptional for May in Wisconsin, though in fact he wouldn’t know personally since this was his first, and probably only, year in the state, having been born and bred in the Lone Star State.
Texas.
Kyle took a deep, ragged breath and forced his dark memories as deeply as they’d go into the back recesses of his mind. Now wasn’t the time to be treading back on his melancholy. He’d already been brooding enough in poor Gracie’s company.
It was a wonderful, sunshine-filled day, and he was with a beautiful woman. The air was ripe with spring, with the pungent scent of budding flowers and fresh green grass just after its first spring mow.
A man couldn’t ask for more blessings than that, now could he?
Gracie, Kyle realized with a start, had been chattering along as they went, while he’d been completely consumed by his thoughts. And, he also realized bluntly, he hadn’t a single clue as to what she had said.
She was quiet now, though, observing him with a tantalizing tilt of her head that sent the sunlight shimmering off the highlights of her red hair.
“A penny for your thoughts,” she said, her voice rich and warm.
He chuckled awkwardly and jammed his fingers through his thick black hair. “Trust me, Gracie, you don’t want to know.”
Judging from the jewel-fine gleam in her eyes and the way she cocked her hands on her hips just so, she was obviously going to argue the point, but he quickly cut her short.
“We’re at the restaurant,” he pointed out, gesturing to the front door of Harry’s Kitchen. “And I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry enough to eat a whole menu’s worth of items. Let’s go in and get a table before we end up having to wait.”
She pressed her full lips together and surveyed him keenly. “Kyle—” she began, and then stopped without finishing her sentence. She stared at him a moment more, and then said, “Okay. Let’s go in.”
Relief flooded through him. Thankfully, she wasn’t going to press the issue. But that emotion was quickly followed by a surprising surge of another, less familiar feeling.
Disappointment.
“Look, Hart, the whole town must be in here for lunch today,” Gracie exclaimed, obviously pleased by that tidbit of information.
Kyle wasn’t so sure how he felt. He looked around at the green-upholstered booths of the eating establishment and indeed, there were many familiar faces staring wide-eyed back at him, waving him—and Gracie—inside the door with eager grins.
Feral grins, he thought caustically, at least on some of the older women he knew from church. They’d had their matchmaking eyes on him ever since he’d arrived in Safe Harbor.
In Kyle’s mind, and in his newly unattached state, there wasn’t a thing in this world more daunting than a group of determined, small-town ladies wanting to hitch a man up to the marriage wagon, and no amount of objection made a difference in their minds, or in their plans. He had protested, as politely but loudly as possible, for what little good that did him.
He was a reasonably young, and reasonably—ahem—handsome, single man in a small town with an abundance of young, single women. As far as the self-appointed town matchmakers were concerned, he was fair game. No amount of denial on his part would make them see the light.
The only light the older members of the Safe Harbor Women’s League wanted to see was candles at the end of a sanctuary aisle with a white wedding runner leading right up to it. And him in a tux, smack-dab in the middle of the whole picture.
He could see the news on the front page of the Safe Harbor Courier already—Wedding Bells Ahead for Dr. Kyle and Nurse Gracie.
It almost sounded like a soap opera. He slid a look at Gracie, but she’d already headed off toward the first table to greet some of her friends. She was grasping hands and hugging necks and kissing cheeks and being her sweet, charming self.
What man wouldn’t be proud to walk into a restaurant with a woman like Gracie Adams on his arm?
He smiled in spite of himself. Gracie was animated and pretty, the perfect woman to charm a bitter widower’s heart. It was a compliment to him that they considered him dating material for her.
But the Women’s League would have to look elsewhere to pair Gracie Adams up.
True, a man would be foolish to not want a woman like Gracie in his life and in his heart.
But Kyle wasn’t any man. He didn’t have a heart left to give.
She was, he realized, heartache peeling back as fresh as if it were just yesterday and not over a year ago, certainly not anything like his wife Melody, neither in looks nor in personality.
Melody had not even come up to Kyle’s
