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    “Be right there, Bob,” Ben called. “So anyway, we mostly use the dock for pictures, but the occasional fisherman may need to tie up there dependin’ on the weather. I promise to keep the intrusion to a minimum.”
    “I’m sure it will be fine.” Lia stood and picked up the tray. “When is this tournament?”
    “End of July.”
    She wore an expression that troubled him. One of those “I’ve-got-a-great-idea” looks that women got when they were planning trouble.  
    “Do they let women enter?”  
    There it was. Trouble.
    “Well, sure,” he said. “We’ve had a woman or two join us.” But none as pretty as you, he wanted to add.
    A moment passed, and he realized Lia had nothing more to say. With a shake of his head and a smile, he tucked the flowery mailbox under his arm and strolled to the gate to converse with Bob. By the time the cement and post was unloaded, Lia had joined him with a hammer, shovel, and screwdriver.
    “I thought we might need these.”
    “We?” he asked as he tipped his hat back.  
    “Yes, we ,” she stated in a matter-of-fact way. “The way I see it, two can work better than one.”
    “I believe the Bible does say something about that,” he replied as he accepted the shovel from her outstretched hand.  
    “Yes, Ben, I believe it does.”
    Lia stared at him a moment too long for his comfort. Well, actually it didn’t make him feel bad, the way she looked at him. Rather, it made him feel good.  
    Which he didn’t much like.
    A confirmed bachelor thinking of setting off to see the world didn’t need to be entertaining ideas of sipping sweet coffee and teasing pretty women on a regular basis. It was a hazard to his plans, even if it did promise to be a balm to his soul.
    “Well now,” he said as he pushed any thoughts besides those directly related to setting a mailbox post out of his mind. “How about I dig the hole while you fetch the water hose and a bucket? Once I get the spot set up, we’ll mix and pour then set the post.”
    And with any luck you’ll get tired and go back inside. That way I won’t be so distracted.  

    * * *

    Not only did Lia fetch the hose, but she also mixed the quick set concrete like a pro. “Grandaddy had a ranch where I spent most of my summers. This is just like setting fence posts,” she said by way of explanation.  
    He couldn’t resist teasing the city girl once more. “And you say you’re from New York?”
    His joke was rewarded with a laugh that set his heart to thumping.
    “Yes, I am, Ben, but I can milk a cow or run a trot line, if need be.”
    Now that did beat all. “You know about trot lines?”
    Lia nodded. “The lazy woman’s way to fish a stream.”  
    Run for the hills, Ben Corbin. You’ve just found a pretty woman who fishes and sets fence posts.

CHAPTER EIGHT

    “You going to stand there all day, Ben, or are you going to help me stir this concrete?”  
    “Well finally.” He nudged her out of the way and took up the shovel. “Something Lia Stephanos can’t do.”
    Between the two of them, they managed to get the old mailbox out and the new one in place before the sun dipped toward the treetops. While Ben held the box’s wooden post in the wet concrete, Lia helped him position it straight.
    “That’s it,” he said as he tucked the level into his back pocket and took a step back. “Looks pretty good, I’d say.”
    “It certainly does,” Lia said. “Can I offer you a glass of water or some iced tea?”
    Ben thought seriously about accepting her offer, until he considered how much business he might have lost to this little side trip up the hill. He’d left a sign on the bait shop’s front door saying he’d return in an hour.
    Checking his watch, he groaned. A quarter until five. Good thing it was a Wednesday. Wednesdays were generally his slow days.
    “I’m sorry but I’m going to have to pass,” he said. “I need to get back to the bait shop.”
    “About that.” Lia leaned against