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embarrassment.”
    Dan cleared his throat. “Ma’am, would it be possible for you to get Charlie—”
    Harriet frowned and corrected him. “Charlotte.”
    “—Charlie,” he repeated, “her purse? Unlike good old Winslow, I work for my living, and I have to get back.”
    “Back to where?”
    “I work for Imperial Shipping.”
    “Doing?”
    “I drive a truck, ma’am.” He nodded at the big rig in front of the house.
    Harriet’s eyes narrowed. “You’re the man who picked up Charlotte?”
    “Yes.” He stepped closer to Charlie, as if his presence could shield her from her mother’s ire. “Charlie’s bag, ma’am?”
    Harriet dismissed him and turned her full attention back to Charlie. “Charlotte. You drove away with this ruffian?”
    “Yes, Mother. Dan was kind enough to pick me up and offer me a roof over my head, since it seems I’m homeless for the moment.”
    Harriet gave a delicate little sniff. “Your old room is here and you’re welcome to it until after the wedding. Thank you, Mr. Martin. I’ll see to it Winslow compensates you for your trouble. I’m sure he’ll appreciate your returning his runaway bride.”
    “Charlie has already compensated me.” Dan said with just the right inflection to set off her mother, and then he added insult to injury by wrapping his arms around Charlie, holding her tight.
    Harriet huffed and puffed a moment, and her face turned a brilliant shade of red. “Charlotte will be staying with me.”
    “Mother, I will be leaving with Dan as soon as you get me my purse. Winslow can just leave my luggage with you and I’ll get it later.”
    “What has gotten into you, Charlotte?” Harriet demanded.
    “Winslow isn’t right for me. I don’t love him. I tried to tell you, tried to tell you both.” She paused a moment, then in the spirit of honesty added, “It was my fault, really. If I hadn’t been such a pushover, we could have avoided this entire debacle.”
    “Winslow is your dream man,” Harriet argued.
    “No, Winslow is your dream man. I tried to get out of the wedding earlier, but you wouldn’t listen. Neither would he. Finally I realized I didn’t need either of you to approve. Marrying Winslow would have been wrong, for both of us.”
    “You’re really staying with him?” Harriet managed to make the word him sound like some sort of deadly virus, designed to attack and destroy everything in its path.
    “Yes, Mother. I’m staying with him.”
    “This is going to kill Winslow.” Harriet opened the foyer closet and retrieved Charlie’s purse.
    Charlie didn’t comment on Winslow’s brokenhearted death. She took the purse. “Good-bye, Mother. Please cancel all your plans. There’s not going to be a wedding. Ever.”
    “This is going to kill Winslow,” Harriet repeated.
    “It might have dented his ego, but it’s not going to dent his heart.”
    Charlie allowed Dan to lead her from the house.
    “So that’s your mom?” he asked in a whisper.
    “Home sweet home.” Charlie knew she should protest Dan’s arm, which was still wrapped around her shoulder, but she didn’t. Despite the warm summer evening, she was cold—cold to the bone. His touch gave her enough heat to go on.
    “Do you need to do anything else tonight?” he asked softly.
    “I’ve got so much to do, but I’m not going to get any of it done tonight. If the offer is still good, I’ll take you up on a place to stay, at least until I can find something else. But if you’ve changed your mind, you can just drop me at a hotel.”
    “No hotels. You’ll stay at my place tonight, and tomorrow we’ll clean out Doug’s apartment for you.” He paused. “You can trust me.”
    Charlie glanced at the man who’d ridden to her rescue twice today. She did trust him. She had no hesitation, no apprehension about that much. Just a confidence that he was one of the good guys.
    “I do trust you, just like Ida did. I’m not sure why, but I do. Thanks, I’ll stay at your place