Secret Desire. Gwynne Forster

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      She opened her store the next morning at nine o’clock, the usual hour. Beside the doorknob, she noticed a buzzer that hadn’t been there before the robbery. She’d ask Luke about that. Half an hour later, she answered the buzzer and opened the door for a policeman.

      “’Morning, Miss Kate,” he said, tipping his hat. “I’m Officer Cowan, and I’ve been assigned to patrol your area. I just wanted to give you my pager number, in case you have a problem. I won’t be more than eight or ten blocks from you at any time, so feel safe. You can turn this buzzer off till near dark. I doubt anybody’s gonna bother you in broad daylight.”

      That air that whistled through his teeth with each word he uttered and the large patch of black hair beneath his left ear guaranteed that she wouldn’t forget him. She thanked him, and he left, but she wanted to ask somebody if Luke Hickson took such good care of every citizen in his precinct. The protection gave her a sense of security, but she didn’t want special favors. One way or another, you paid for them. She’d rather spend her precious funds on a store guard and keep her independence.

      She rang up a sale, handed the change to the buyer. Then, as her gaze caught Luke heading toward her, she jammed her finger in the drawer of the cash register. She’d thought him handsome, but as she stared at him in his captain’s uniform she nearly swallowed her tongue. He glided toward her, his stride purposeful and powerful and his gaze fixed on her.

      He stopped beside her customer and touched his cap. “Glad to see you’re up and out, Miss Fanny. You had a long siege.”

      “Oh, Captain,” the woman exclaimed, “I don’t know what I’d have done if you and your men hadn’t kept a close check on me.” She turned to Kate. “They’re my family. Brought me food and the paper every single day. Good, hot food, too, ’cause, honey, I wasn’t able to get up and cook. I’m going to bake them some gingerbread soon as I feel up to it.” She pointed a finger toward Luke. “He loves gingerbread, gingersnaps and whatever else I can put ginger in.” Kate wrapped the woman’s purchases—a volume of poems and a copy of Fools Rush In—and handed them to her.

      “I’ll be back soon as I finish Fools Rush In,” Miss Fanny called over her shoulder as she left.

      “Did you sleep well?” Luke asked.

      She nodded. “Wonderfully. Thanks.” Then she remembered the buzzer. “Luke, did you have that buzzer put on my door?”

      He flipped back his cap and closed his eyes for a split second. “Yeah. Of course I did. It’s dark long before you leave, and most of the stores in this block close a couple of hours before you do. You’re vulnerable. What’s the matter? You don’t want it there?”

      What could she say? Of course she needed that, and any other protection that would prevent her from losing her store. “Please don’t think I’m not grateful. I am—”

      He frowned and barely narrowed his left eye. “But what, Kate? Tell me you’re going to do this all on your own, that you don’t need anybody’s help. Fine. Give me a screwdriver, and I’ll remove the buzzer.”

      Now she’d done it. What was it about men that made them see things in black-and-white? “I appreciate your kindness, but in ten years of marriage, I wasn’t allowed to make a single meaningful decision. I was spoon-fed, managed and manipulated. You’ll forgive me, I hope, if I’m supersensitive about my independence.”

      He stepped closer and burned her with his all-knowing gaze. “If your marriage wasn’t a happy one, why did you stay?”

      “I have a son, and I took a vow.”

      She’d said more than she wanted him to know. But then, she’d already accepted that she wasn’t normal around him.

      Something akin to recognition—or could it be approval?—gleamed in his intense gaze. “You’re an admirable woman. I just dropped by to make certain everything’s all right. Did Cowan introduce himself to you this morning?”

      She nodded, perplexed. The man whose company she’d enjoyed the previous evening had been swallowed by that captain’s uniform. She didn’t know what to think. “Officer Cowan said he’d be checking on me. Luke, do you think it’s necessary to go to so much trouble?”

      His gaze didn’t waver. “For a simple robbery, I wouldn’t take such steps, but you’ve implied that you’re in jeopardy, and until that robbery case is solved, it’s my job to protect you—whether you like that or not. What time will Randy be here this afternoon?”

      She tried to imagine what was behind the question. “Three-thirty. Why? What did you have in mind?”

      “I’d like him to come over to PAL.” He gave her the address. “You can’t begin too early. He has the profile of a kid who needs help, and you have to straighten him out now.”

      She knew he didn’t exaggerate. “All right. I’ll…I’ll send him.”

      Her nerves shimmered when his hand covered hers in a gentle gesture of comfort. “One of the counsellors or officers will pick him up at three-thirty and bring him back before you close. Relax, now. He couldn’t be in better hands.”

      She let herself luxuriate in the warmth that leaped out from him. She knew she should move her hand, but why couldn’t she enjoy his caring gesture for just a minute? He looked at her the way he had when they sat in that booth without speaking after their dinner—not searching or examining, just communicating in a most primal way. She wanted to ask him if he was telling her he liked her, but she didn’t.

      She smiled and squeezed his hand. “Be my friend, Luke, but please don’t spoil me. I’ve had too much of that. Do you understand?”

      He clasped her hand more tightly, but he didn’t smile, and she wondered what had happened to the grin with which he’d mesmerized her Sunday evening.

      “I understand,” he told her, “but you can’t assume that I’d treat you as your husband did. I believe in giving a person breathing space, and I like women who’re capable of standing on their own two feet.” He touched the brim of his cap. “I’ll drop by again to see how you’re getting on.”

      He moved his hand, leaving her with a sense of loss. “Thanks, Luke, for…for everything.”

      As he turned to go she amazed herself by saying, “I make great gingerbread. Randy’s crazy about it.”