An Officer and a Millionaire / Mr Strictly Business. Maureen Child

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      “Good,” he murmured. “That’s real good, Annie, but the thing is…”

      “See, honey,” Margie said quickly, determined to stop Hunter before he could disavow himself of everything these people were feeling. “I told you, everyone in town is so pleased that you’re taking an active interest in Springville.”

      “She’s right about that,” James said. “Why, the newly redone Little League field and all of the flowers planted along Main Street…” He stopped and shook his head. “Well, it just means something to know that the Cabots are still attached to the town they built, that’s all.”

      “Hunter’s happy to do it,” Margie told them, smiling and leaning even harder into her husband’s side.

      “We just wanted to thank you in person,” James said, tugging his wife’s hand. “Now, we’ve got to run. Annie’s mom is watching our two little monsters, and she’s probably ready to tear her hair out by now.” Nodding, he said, “It really is good to see you, Hunter.”

      “Right. Thanks.” Hunter stood stock-still on the sidewalk as the happy couple hurried off, and Margie felt the tension in him through the heavy arm he kept firmly around her shoulders.

      “Well,” Margie said softly, trying—and failing—to peel herself off Hunter, “I suppose we’d better go on to Carla’s Dress Shop now.”

      “In a minute,” Hunter said, tightening his arm around her until she could have sworn she could feel every one of his ribs, every ounce of muscle, every drop of heat pouring from his body into hers. “First, I want you to answer something for me.”

      She swallowed hard, tipped her face up to his and found herself caught in his gaze. “What?”

      “Why’d you do it?” he asked, features stony, eyes giving away nothing of what he was feeling. “Why’d you let everyone think that it was my idea to do all these things around town? Why didn’t you just do whatever it was you do without dragging me into it?”

      “Because I’m your wife, Hunter,” she said. “It only made sense that you be a part of all of the decision making.”

      “But I never asked for this,” he argued, his eyes going icy as he looked at her. “I didn’t—don’t—want to be responsible for this town.”

      Margie shook her head and saw more than she guessed he would want her to. Whether he would admit it or not, he loved this place, too. She’d seen it in his face as they walked along the familiar street. She’d heard it in his voice when he greeted old friends. And she’d felt it from him as the Drakes offered their thanks for everything he’d done for them and everyone else.

      “Don’t you see, Hunter,” she said softly and reached up to cup his cheek, voluntarily touching him for the first time. “It’s not about what you want. It’s about what they need. The people in Springville need to feel that they’re important to the Cabots. And like it or not, you are the Cabots.”