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fight ahead of her if she thinks she’s going to
turn Heartbreak into Dollywood.”
    “Yeah, you’ll probably
get your undies in a knot along with all those grandmas at the Preservation
Society,” Junior called. “Nothing fries you more than progress, right, Mac? You
probably pitched a fit the day they invented indoor plumbing.”
    Mac took the
good-natured ribbing in stride. “Well, I suppose if she manages to slice off a
big piece of the pie around here, and lures you all away to work for her, maybe
I can take that fishing trip up to Canada this summer after all.”
    “Yeah, right,” Turner
Sheldon, his shop supervisor, said. “When’s the last time you took a vacation,
Mac? Five years ago? Seven?”
    “Hey, I went to the
Boat Show up in New York last year,” Mac protested.
    Everyone knew how much
he hated to leave the shop behind. In a way, the success of the place had been
a curse, since Mac now needed to meet with industry reps to look over new
lines, and attend RV and outdoor shows. Sometimes it seemed like weeks went by
when he didn’t even get his hands on a boat. Still, the guys saved the tough
stuff for him; no one knew the older equipment like he did.
    “You know what you
need,” drawled Bill Overton, a sixty-ish relic from his father’s days. “Get you
a gal. Bet you’d be a lot more fun to be around if there was a lady in your
life.”
    “Hey, I was out with
you guys just last night, and there were women there.” Mac protested.
    “That don’t count,”
Junior chimed in from across the room. “You could hang out at Buzzy’s every
night of the week and it still wouldn’t count. The gals down there—”
    “They aren’t really
the sort of lady we’re talking about,” Sheldon agreed. “You’ve known all of
them for years. Every last one of them probably wouldn’t mind getting her hooks
in you, but if you was going to get close with one of them you would have done
it by now.”
    “I’m saving myself for
Charlene,” Mac said, hoping to put an end to the train of conversation, which
was getting a little too close to the truth for comfort.
    “Aw, the hell you are.”
Though attractive, Charlene was very much married, his office manager and
bookkeeper since he took over his father’s operation. Married to one of his
best childhood friends, Charlene had four kids and was the closest thing he had
to a sister.
    Junior’s retort hung
in sudden silence. The lull in the noise level in the shop, Sheryn’s voice on
the radio echoing through the room, caused Mac to pause, curious as to what had
diverted their attention.
    “Look at that,” Turner
mumbled under his breath at the next bench. “That ain’t local goods.”
    Mac turned slowly in
the direction of Turner’s gaze, knowing it had to be Amber even before he saw
her standing uncertainly in the doorway, sunlight streaming through the thin
material of her skirt, outlining her legs in a most enticing fashion.
     
    Amber looked around
the shop with a mixture of admiration and apprehension. Coming here was not a
good idea—that was the message her mind had been telling her loud and
clear on the way over. Her heart was another matter. At the moment it was
thudding like a bass drum. As heads turned in her direction, she was almost
afraid that the men in the room could hear its pounding rhythm.
    Another fear nagged at
her as well: that they knew her, all of them; with one glance recognized the
naive girl from fourteen years ago. That all the efforts she’d made over the
years to mold and change herself had failed; the expensive wardrobe and
perfectly-shaped hair and subdued makeup were inadequate camouflage, and with a
single glance they would be able to look inside and see....
    ...what? Amber shut
her eyes tight to force the memories back, but for a moment it was as though
the years fell away, and she was standing in the shop when it was still Mac’s
father’s place. The old, battered workbench was...over there, off to the right.
The