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minutes to an hour?”
    “Sure, honey. Any problems? Need backup?”
    Did he need backup? Hell yeah! A runaway bride, whose gaze could melt him in his tracks, was something he had never come up against. And by against…her warm, curvy body pressed to his had left a definite impression. “No. I don’t need backup,” he said, his voice a little harsher than he’d intended. He didn’t need backup. He needed someone else to take over so he could run as far away as possible.
    Hell. And that really wasn’t an option. Not when she finally emerged from the dressing room wearing a pair of slim-fitting jeans that clung to her body like a second skin. Those and a pale green, short-sleeved sweater that hugged the rounded swell of her breasts and narrow waist had Nash shifting in his boots, wishing he could adjust the fit of his trousers to accommodate what the sight of her was doing to his libido.
    Sweet Jesus!
    In the wedding dress, she was a tiny fairy princess enveloped in clouds of poofy cotton candy. In the jeans, light green sweater, and a pair of gently scuffed, brown cowboy boots she was the girl next door, only better and somehow more real. She’d pulled the remaining pins and her long auburn hair fell around her shoulders in wild waves.
    When she turned her gaze to meet his, Nash’s breath caught and held.
    Alarm bells rang out in his head. Warning! Warning! Had he listened, he’d have run the other way. Peg would have seen that Phoebe got a ride to Lola’s apartment or the women’s shelter. Nash had no obligation to stick around and see her to her next destination.
    His feet wouldn’t budge from the floor. He couldn’t breathe, much less move when she gazed at him with those eyes the soft green of spring hay.
    Peg held out a bag bulging with other items of clothing and another with several pairs of shoes. When Phoebe extended the twenty-five dollars, Peg lifted her hand and shook her head. “Take them. Pay it forward when you get on your feet.”
    “Thank you so very much,” Phoebe said. “I’ll pay you back as soon as I can.”
    “What do you want me to do with the wedding dress?” Peg asked, tilting her head toward the dressing room.
    “Keep it, sell it, or burn it. I have no use for the thing.”
    “Consider it payment for the items you’re taking with you.” Peg smiled. “I’m sure it more than covers them. And you look wonderful and ready to take on life on your own terms.”
    Phoebe hugged Peg and turned to Nash, her eyes swimming with unshed tears. “I’m ready.” She squared her shoulders, even as her bottom lip trembled. She sucked it between her teeth and lifted her chin.
    He swallowed past the tightening in his throat and resisted the urge to gather Phoebe in his arms, to protect her from the world and feel this whole new woman, free of the wedding dress, pressed against his body. But resist, he did. To hold her now would start a landslide of something he was sure would bury him completely. One thing was certain, he wouldn’t emerge unscathed. Outside the thrift shop, he held the SUV door for Phoebe.
    She slid in, drawing in her slim legs like a celebrity, or someone used to riding in the back seat of a limousine.
    Nash blinked. That thought tugged at his memory. With her hair down and that ridiculous dress gone, she appeared somewhat familiar. He’d seen that face before, but he couldn’t put his finger on where. “Should I know you?”
    Her eyes widened, and she turned away. “I don’t see how. We just met today.”
    His gaze narrowed, as if by squinting he could pinpoint that memory of where he’d seen her before. For a long moment, he stared at her profile. Finally, he shook his head. “Guess I’m mistaken.”
    “Yes,” she said, her voice breathy. “Perhaps so.”
    He shut the door, rounded the vehicle to the driver’s side and climbed in. He glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “Were you at the last rodeo in Fort Worth?”
    Phoebe shook her head and stared out the