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“You were my best friend…then.”
    â€œAnd now I’m your worst enemy, is that it?” He brushed back the hair from her temple.
    â€œThat’s it,” she replied stonily.
    He drew his hand back and started the jeep.
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    Minutes later, the brakes squealed as Russell pulled up in front of the ancient Coleman home. Tish smiled at the familiar lines of the pre-Civil War architecture. It was white and had two stories and square columns. It was outrageously conventional, like Jace Coleman himself, with no frills or elegant carving on the woodwork. It was austerely simple in its lines and was practical right down to the front porch that ran the width of the house and held a porch swing and a smattering of old, but comfortable, rocking chairs and pots of flowers that bloomed every spring.
    As Tish got out of the jeep, ignoring Russell’s watchful gaze, the sound of feminine voices burst out of the house.
    â€œYou’re back, you’re really back!” A small, plump whirlwind with short black hair came bounding out the front porch and down the steps, almost knocking Tish down as she was caught around the neck by small hands and soundly hugged.
    â€œLena!” she murmured, hugging the younger girl. “Oh, I missed you so!”
    â€œNo kidding? With that blond-haired, blue-eyed dreamboat you told me about sitting at your feet, and you missed me? Comeon, Tish!” Eileen laughed, a flash of perfect white teeth in a face dominated by big dark eyes. “But I sure have missed you. You don’t know what a beast Russell’s been to live with lately!”
    â€œSurely, you jest,” Tish teased, with a hard glance at the towering man beside the jeep that told him it was no joke to her.
    â€œThat one didn’t fly over my head, baby,” Russell cautioned with a sharp smile. “Careful.”
    â€œThey’re at it again, I see,” Nan Coleman sighed from the porch, eyeing Russell and Tish. “Fighting, and Tish hasn’t been home an hour.”
    â€œForty-five minutes,” she replied, laughing as she went to hug the dainty brunette on the steps. She looked into curious green eyes. “I came right over. How are you, Nan?”
    â€œBored to tears,” the shorter woman wailed, cutting her eyes provocatively to Russell. “All the handsome men in the country are busy with harvest.”
    â€œI thought I made up for that before harvest,” Russell said, his voice deep and sensuous as he smiled, his eyes holding Nan’s until she blushed.
    Tish felt a sudden emptiness inside her and turned quickly to Eileen. “I brought you a present from the coast,” she said, with a lightness in her voice that was a direct contrast to the dead weight of her heart. “A coral necklace.”
    â€œWhen did you find the time to shop?” Eileen laughed.
    â€œI managed a few minutes away from Frank.”
    â€œTell me about him,” Nan said, taking her arm. “I’ve never known you to get serious about a man. He must be special.”
    â€œNan will bring us home, Russell,” Eileen called over her shoulder. “Tell Mattie we’ll be back before supper, okay?”
    â€œOkay, brat,” he told his sister.
    Nan stopped and turned. “Oh, Russ, I’m having a party for Tish next Saturday night, kind of a homecoming get-together. You’ll come, too?”
    He lifted a dark eyebrow, but his eyes danced. “I might.”
    â€œHe may not come for you,” Eileen toldNan, “but he’ll come for his ‘baby,’” she added with a mischievous wink at Tish.
    â€œI’m not anybody’s baby,” Tish said quietly. “I’m almost twenty-one, Eileen.”
    â€œMakes no difference,” Nan said from her five years advantage. “Paternal fondness doesn’t recognize age, does it, Russell?”
    His dark eyes swept over Tish’s face, and she fought a blush at the