Monroe asked as he slipped an arm around his wife’s expanding waist and pulled her snug to his side.
“Just griping about the weather,” Lindy told him.
“Typical farm girls,” Travis teased. He nodded toward Mayor Evans, who stood behind the podium as he got the ground breaking underway. “You ready for your big speech?”
“Yep,” Shayna assured him. “I’m going to keep it short and sweet so we can all get back to our warm homes.”
Just then, the mayor announced her name, and the crowd cheered and clapped enthusiastically. With a deep breath and a silent prayer, she took the podium. “I want to thank all of you for braving this unusual weather. Daddy would have been honored—and embarrassed—by this wonderful turnout.”
Her voice began to wobble, forcing her to pause for a second, clear her throat, gather her composure. “James Miller was more than just a great coach. He was a great man. His calm, quiet demeanor hid an inner strength he gladly loaned to anyone who needed an extra push in life, and as you all know, he was uncomfortable with public kudos.”
The sea of heads surrounding the podium nodded as one.
“I’ll never forget the paper’s headline after that first trip to state. ‘Coach Miller Wins Title.’ I was so proud, but Daddy said it wasn’t true. He didn’t win that title, the players did. So he rewrote that article, naming and praising the entire thirty-seven member squad. He wanted each of those boys to bask in the pride of their accomplishments.”
A mumble rippled through the crowd, growing into another burst of applause. Several teary faces stared back at her.
“That was typical. James Miller did great things every day and always preferred to shift the accolades to someone else. So today, in honor of his memory and because he’s no longer here to deflect the praise—” she paused for a second as she accepted the gold-ribbon-embellished shovel the mayor handed her “—I proudly dedicate this site as the future home of the James Miller Youth Center, and I challenge us all to go out every day and do something great, just like he taught us to.”
Sniffling back the tears she could no longer contain, she gingerly placed her high-heeled shoe over the shovel’s edge and ceremoniously scooped out a bit of preloosened dirt. She lifted watery eyes, smiling and nodding at the crowd. Several loved and familiar faces smiled back, sending a wave of support and encouragement her way, helping her put a plug on her emotions.
Moving her gaze to the rear of the crowd, she spied an unanticipated and unwelcome spectator. Despite the icy nip in the air, a layer of cold sweat suddenly covered Shayna’s skin.
Dark glasses protected his eyes, but his sun-bleached hair and blatantly expensive wool trench coat gave him away. The nerve of that man. What part of “not interested” did Kyle Anderson not understand?
With an effort, she pulled her attention back to the mayor as he offered his own words of praise. She listened with half an ear, her stomach pitching as Kyle wove his way through the crowd. She felt the pressure of his regard like a high-beamed spotlight and knew the locals wouldn’t fail to notice a dashing, big-city stranger hanging around.
If asked—and in Land’s Cross, being asked about your business was a sure bet—would he share his reasons for being in town? Would he blab about her unfortunate tie to Steven Walker?
Feigning calm, she smiled and clapped as Mayor Evans drew the celebration to a close. Shayna’s inner wuss begged her to run as fast and far away as possible from the threat of Kyle’s presence. But her pride shushed her fear, giving her the strength to march calmly and confidently in his direction.
Between them, the throng of well-wishers formed a gauntlet she had to kiss and hug her way through. By the time she stood face-to-face with Kyle, the community’s love and support had steadied her backbone. Land’s Cross was her turf. She had home field advantage. Let him take his best shot.
She accepted his outstretched hand, her smile so brittle she feared her cheeks would crack. “Kyle Anderson. What an unexpected surprise.” She kept her voice as cordial as possible, hoping folks would assume he was as harmless as everyone else.
“This was too important for me not to come.” He tugged her a few steps outside the crush before dropping her hand and leaning in to whisper, “Patty wanted to come, too, but I convinced her to give me one more chance before she traveled all this way.”
Nausea boiled in her stomach at the mere idea of her bleach-blond bimbo mother invading Land’s Cross—her home, her sanctuary. Anger surged through her system, demanding action, but pure stubbornness kept her from bolting. “That sounds an awful lot like blackmail, Mr. Anderson.”
“I prefer to think of it as smart negotiating, Ms. Miller. I gave you the opportunity to set a convenient, private time and place to discuss matters, but you’ve forced my hand.”
The fact that he had a valid point fueled Shayna’s churning temper. Her stubborn refusal to return his calls had backfired. Big-time.
Hyperaware of the curious looks shooting their way, she shifted her body farther from Kyle’s and nodded and waved at the nearest clutch of people.
“Mr. Anderson, I admit that not taking your calls was cowardly, and I give you my word that I will rectify the mistake. But only if you promise to keep Patty away from me and my home.” She did her best to keep her face blank as she met Kyle’s stare. Displaying her panic would sink her cause.
“Agreed.” He pointed to Dixie’s Diner across the street. “How about we get out of the cold and discuss Dr. Walker’s proposal over a hot cup of coffee?”
“No. Not in public. We’ve given the gossips enough to chew on already. Besides, I’m busy right now.” Maintaining a forcefully civil expression, she nodded goodbye and started to turn back to the crowd.
His hand snagged her wrist and stopped her escape. “Tomorrow then?”
“Tomorrow’s Thanksgiving, and I’ll be busy then, too. You’ll have to wait till Friday.” She tugged her arm free and took a step backward. The heel of her shoe caught on a clump of dirt, and she started to stumble.
Kyle reacted quickly, catching her around the waist and steadying her. Her chin grazed his broad chest. He smelled like fresh air and sun-warmed leather. For a split second, she entertained the fantasy of melting into him, of huddling into the heat that radiated from him, but his words instantly counteracted her body’s momentary weakness.
“Don’t abuse my generosity, Ms. Miller. If I have to track you down again, I won’t be so understanding. Or subtle.”
Alarmed by her own weakness as much as his audacity, she tipped her chin up and glared at him. “Turn me loose,” she ordered briskly.
“If you insist.” He relaxed his hold immediately, and she scurried back a step.
“Shayna? Everything okay over here?” Travis’s voice sounded deeper and meaner than usual. Grateful for the interruption, she turned to find Lindy and Travis shooting visual bullets over her shoulder.
“You bet.” She hoped her big, goofy grin would help sell the lie. “Mr. Anderson was just leaving.”
“Anderson?” Lindy’s brows rose. “From California?”
“Yes
