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confusion, but everything had gone worse than wrong.
    As to the others, the men who sat in her saloon night after night, drinking themselves into a stupor, claiming their wives were responsible or irresponsible or dull. And her mother’s old boyfriends, no accounts without a future or the urge to motivate. They were all jerks and users and she had nothing but contempt for them all.
    Harry was different. He was outrageous, true, but he made her laugh and his outrageousness wasn’t a threat or an insult, but rather a game, a certain charming wit that he employed with skill. She had no fear he would force her, or that he’d actually try to humiliate her as Floyd had. He was big and brave, and something of a hero, a fact she couldn’t deny since she’d seen herself the efforts he’d made to try to protect her, even with a gun to his head.
    â€œHow old are you, Harry?”
    â€œAn odd question, coming out of the blue like that, but whynot? As a conversational gambit, it beats the obvious chitchat of weather, and it’s as good as any other. I’m thirty-two. And you?”
    â€œAre you a good private eye?”
    â€œMeaning?”
    â€œDo you make much money at it?”
    He cleared his throat. “Less of a gambit, but yes, I support myself nicely if that’s what you mean.”
    He was probably expensive, too expensive, but maybe she could figure something out. “How long have you been in the detecting business?”
    â€œDetecting? Well, let’s see. About six years now.”
    â€œAre you kind to animals?”
    He laughed. “There’s a purpose to this interview? All right, I’ll trust there is. I have two dogs and a cat and they love me or at least they pretend to in order to get me to do their bidding or sometimes when I find a chewed up shoe or a mess in the corner. Does that answer your question?”
    â€œAre you married?”
    â€œDid you have an unemployed dog in mind that you’re hoping to foist off on me?”
    A small lump of dread formed in her stomach and she struggled to keep her tone light. “So you are married?”
    â€œDivorced, actually, not that it should concern you.”
    She turned to face him. He was big and gorgeous and funny and a hero. He might well be the man she needed. God knew her level of success on her own hadn’t been anything to boast about, especially given today’s incredible fiasco. “I think I like you, Harry.”
    â€œLook there,” Harry said, pointing over her head and studiously ignoring her last statement. “A building of some sort. I do believe salvation is at hand.”
    Charlie looked in the direction he indicated. They’d wandered completely through the woods to another road. A smallblock building, bludgeoned by the rain, sat close to the road, looking indeed like salvation.
    Harry, his face averted, plodded onward and Charlie gladly let him lead the way, content to follow behind. To say she trusted him now would definitely be going too far, but he’d made her laugh and that was a huge accomplishment. As to the rest, she’d just have to wait and see.

CHAPTER THREE
    â€œW ELL WHAT DO you know, it’s an abandoned gas station.”
    Harry stood in a spot of grease, thankfully out of the rain, and studied their little Eden. He’d had to kick in the door, which had proved remarkably easy given the rotting wood and rusty lock. Likely inhabited by any number of critters, it was still dry and safe and a block against the growing breeze. The rain finally began to taper off, but with that concession came a chill that sank bone-deep. The temperature had dropped by several degrees and he could see Charlie’s lips shivering. Nice lips, sort of pouty in a seductive way, especially for a woman who wasn’t all that attractive and seemed to have a problem with cordial behavior. Would she have really let them shoot him?
    Damn her, he just didn’t