reason for him to be disappointed that she had other plans. He wasn’t coming back for social reasons, but to work. He probably wouldn’t have seen her much, anyway. “I’ll bring Kyle’s key, but I’m planning on just working outside tomorrow.”
“Yes, well, feel free to come in if you need anything.”
“Thanks.” He stepped out onto the porch, then hesitated. Turning, he said, “Hey, Natalie?”
She paused in the act of closing the door behind him. “Yes?”
“Maybe I could return the favor sometime. Treat you to dinner, I mean.” Not exactly a smooth invitation, he thought with a slight wince. “There’s a really nice steak-and-seafood place in town. I’ve been told the trout there is the best. Maybe we could try it out one night this week?”
He could almost see the debate going on inside her head. She looked tempted…but a little nervous about accepting. What was it about him that would make her nervous?
“Maybe,” she said after a moment. “If there’s time.”
He wasn’t sure what that meant, but at least it wasn’t an outright rejection. “Okay. We’ll talk about it later then.”
She moved back a step into the cabin. “Good night, Casey.”
“Goo—”
But she had already closed the door between them.
Casey’s truck was in the driveway when Natalie returned to the cabin after visiting her aunt and uncle for most of Sunday afternoon. The fact that her heart started beating a little faster at the thought of seeing him again made her pause behind the wheel.
She winced as she remembered her reaction when he’d asked her out. Even though he’d framed the invitation as a way of repaying her for the dinner, it had been clear that what he’d suggested was a date. She’d been so disconcerted that she’d all but shut the door in his face. It wasn’t like her to be so flustered by a simple dinner invitation.
The truth was, Casey Walker made her nervous. And while she’d told herself that it was nice to have such an attractive diversion from her current problems, she wondered if it would be a mistake to get involved—even temporarily—with a good-looking, younger man who obviously harbored secrets of his own.
She really should be focusing more intently on her problems at home, she chided herself. She didn’t have time for a dalliance. But Casey was pure temptation in blue jeans and a tool belt. Would there really be any harm in flirting with him a bit while Beecham conducted her investigation?
Carrying the bag of leftovers her aunt had insisted on sending with her, she entered through the front door and went straight to the kitchen to put the food away. She debated whether she should go out to greet Casey. It wasn’t as if he was there for a social reason. He was working, and she didn’t want to interfere with that process.
Coward.
She slammed the refrigerator door shut, annoyed with that nagging little voice in her head and with herself for acting so foolishly. And then she cursed herself again when someone knocked loudly on the front door and she almost jumped out of her shoes.
Sighing in exasperation, she walked through the living room to open the front door with a smile. “Hello, Casey.”
He nodded, looking a little distracted. He wore a denim shirt, blue plaid flannel jacket and jeans, all of which showed evidence that he’d been doing rather dirty manual labor that day. “Hi. Listen, that dog’s hovering around again. I think maybe he came back for another meal. Do you have anything?”
“I just brought home enough leftover pot roast for a whole pack of dogs. I’ll get him some, and a bowl of water.”
“I’ll come in and help you carry it out. We can’t walk on the deck because the sealant is still drying.”
“All right.”
He followed her into the kitchen. “Did you have a nice visit with your aunt and uncle?”
She answered as she refilled the plastic bowl she’d used the day before with fresh water. “Yes, I did. Very nice.”
Handing him the water, she opened the fridge and pulled out the plate of leftover roast. “Did you have any problems sealing the deck?” she asked to keep the small talk going.
“No. I used Kyle’s sprayer and everything worked fine.”
“Good. So I should be able to walk on it tomorrow?”
“Yeah. Give it twenty-four hours or so and it should be good to go.”
She warmed the meat just to room temperature, only a few seconds. She didn’t want the hungry dog to burn its mouth. “Okay,” she said, taking the plate from the microwave. “Let’s go see if he’s still there.”
“I have a feeling he will be,” Casey replied, letting her precede him. “He looked pretty hungry. And hopeful.”
“Should we call animal control while it’s here?”
Casey hesitated. “Give me a couple of days to see if I can make friends with him first. Maybe Kyle will know someone who’d give the dog a home if we can get it to trust us.”
Natalie was still wearing the clothes she had donned for church that morning, a black waist-length jacket buttoned over a lace-trimmed green cami with a knee-length, black-and-green checked skirt. Fortunately, her black shoes had a reasonably sensible, two-inch heel so she had little trouble following Casey across the uneven lawn toward the woods.
She spotted the dog just as Casey stopped ahead of her. Looking as ragged and dirty as it had the day before, it lurked in the shadows, watching them warily, prepared to run if they made any sudden moves.
Holding the water bowl in his left hand, Casey reached out with his right to take the food plate from Natalie. He crooned quietly to the dog as he took a few slow steps forward and knelt to set the bowls on the ground. “Here you go, buddy. Come on. Have some nice pot roast.”
Casey stayed by the plates, waiting to see if the dog was hungry enough to approach the food even with Casey so close. The dog remained where it was, looking from the food to Casey and then back again, its thin body quivering.
Casey sighed, stood and moved back to Natalie’s side, several yards from the food. “Okay. We won’t get too close.”
Apparently reassured, the dog crept closer to the food. It ate quickly, finishing the roast and then cleaning the plate with a few more licks before washing the meal down with several noisy laps of water. Satisfied, it looked at Natalie and Casey again. After a moment in which none of them moved, it gave a couple of quick, tentative wags of its matted tail, then turned and ran back into the woods.
“I think he thanked us,” Casey murmured, glancing at Natalie with a grin.
Though she wasn’t prone to anthropomorphizing, she returned the smile and said, “Maybe he did. Do you think he’ll be back?”
“Could be. I’ll pick up some dog food this evening. That would be healthier for him than table scraps.”
“I’m
