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a new style that set off her beautiful green eyes. Her cheeks glowed with vitality, although Nikki suspected her high color could be attributed more to Porter Armstrong than to the fresh mountain air.
    “Thank you,” Nikki gushed. “I’m so happy. Sweet ness feels like the home I’ve never had.”
    Amy’s chest pinged with mixed emotions to hear someone else talk about her own hometown with such obvious affection. She hadn’t felt a kinship with the place when she lived here before. In fact, she’d felt constrained and isolated. And she was already fighting that familiar closed-in feeling.
    “So are the two of you going to get married?”
    Nikki blushed. “The town doesn’t even have a church yet. But Porter said he was working on it, so I hope that’s a sign. After living with Darren in Broadway and that relationship going south, I don’t want to move in with Porter until we’re married.”
    Amy smiled at her friend, remembering the feeling of living in this town and being hopelessly in love with an Armstrong. She hoped it worked out better for Nikki than it had for her.
    The door opened and a young bespectacled man Amy recognized from the photo on the website stuck his head in. A pair of safety goggles sat high on his head. His hair stuck out at all angles. He wore fluorescent orange rubber gloves.
    “Excuse the interruption, Dr. Salinger,” he said in a precise British accent. “We have a walk-in, and I’m stuck…er, I’m still giving flu shots to the elementary students.”
    “I should let you go,” Amy said, pushing to her feet. “I need to see Marcus anyway.”
    Nikki stood, as well. “I’ll handle the walk-in, Dr. Cross. May I introduce my friend Amy Bradshaw? She’s in town to build us a bridge.”
    “Brilliant,” he said. “We British are very fond of bridges.” He gave Amy a flustered smile. “Very pleased to meet you. If you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to some miniature terrorists.” He lowered the safety glasses and backed out of the room.
    Amy laughed. “How did he wind up here?”
    “We worked together in Broadway. He’s a great doctor, even if he’s a fish out of water here.”
    Amy felt a rush of sympathy for the man—she knew how he felt. “I’ll let you get to your patients.”
    “I assume you’ll be staying at the boardinghouse?”
    “I honestly don’t know. Marcus just said that accommodations would be provided.”
    “It just dawned on me,” Nikki said as she opened the door and held it for Amy to walk through. “You must know the Armstrongs.”
    “Yes,” Amy said carefully as she exited the lounge into a large waiting area. “We grew up together.”
    Nikki grinned. “You went to school with Porter?”
    “That’s right, although I knew his brother better.”
    “Which brother?” Nikki asked.
    “Nikki!” came a screeching woman’s voice. “Help!”
    Amy looked up to see the owner of the voice, Rachel Hutchins, standing there in all her vivacious glory.
    “You remember Rachel,” Nikki murmured in an amused voice.
    “Yes,” Amy said, but her gaze was riveted on the man next to her, the man Rachel was holding on to in a very proprietary way.
    Kendall Armstrong.
    Her heart stood still. He was broader and taller than she remembered. His hair was still dark and wavy, and he was sporting a light mustache and beard, probably in deference to the cooler season. It suited him, she acknowledged, and emphasized his strong jaw. It was jarring to see the boy she remembered matured into a man she didn’t know. His deep blue eyes were still as intense, but framed with character lines that, if possible, only made him more handsome. Tony’s face flashed in her mind for a split-second comparison. She opened her mouth to gulp air and her heart resumed beating.
    Kendall appeared to recognize her at the same time and froze. Time seemed suspended, the air between them thick and gluey. Her blood rushed in her ears. How many times had she rehearsed this moment in