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of crinkling cellophane filled the void.
    “My own personal theory is that horses run better when they’re hungry,” Welch said, voice and expression bland, meeting her gaze as the boy reappeared beside him. Alex’s eyes widened in outrage. The boy spoke up hastily before she could reply.
    “We just got him in here this morning,” he said, shooting Welch a reproachful glance before looking at Alex out of eyes of the same luminous shade of greenish-blue as the older man’s. “The man Dad bought him off of swore there’s nothing wrong with him. He said he’s just naturally sorry-looking.”
    The horse was stretching his head out toward Welch now, eager for the candy. With a mocking glance at Alex, Welch gave it to him, patting the too-thin neck as the animal crunched and the scent of peppermint filled the air. Indignant at being made fun of, Alex glared at him. If he noticed her ire at all, it didn’t seem to bother him.
    “I can’t believe ol’ Cary talked you into payin’ thirty thousand dollars for this fellow, Joe,” the man in the leather jacket said. Alex glanced at him. He was about six feet tall, more homely than handsome with auburn hair brushed straight back from his brow, twinkling brown eyes and squashed-looking features that somehow matched his stocky frame. He and the other man had been watching and listening to the proceedings with interest. Now they were looking at the horse. “What’s his name, Victory Dance? I reckon you will dance if you get a victory out of him.” His gaze shifted to Alex and as their eyes met he grinned suddenly. “By the way, hel -lo, sweet thing! You doin’ anything for the rest of my life?”
    Taken aback, Alex’s eyes widened on his face. Beside him, his cover-alled friend grimaced and walked around to the horse’s other side as though to distance himself from the conversation. The horse snorted, bobbing his head up and down and nudging Welch’s arm, clearly asking for another peppermint.
    “The fool with the big mouth here is Tom Kinkaid, our local sheriff,”Welch said brusquely to Alex, reaching into his pocket as he spoke and extracting another peppermint, which he proceeded to unwrap. “He’s about as smart as he acts, but it’s an inborn condition and he just plain can’t help it, so I hope you’ll be kind enough to overlook him. Tommy, this is Alexandra Haywood. You know, Charles Haywood’s daughter.”
    “Oh, jeez,” the sheriff said, making a face. The scent of peppermint was once more strong as Victory Dance crunched into the candy. “Sorry about your father, Miss Haywood.”
    Alex nodded acknowledgment, and held out her hand to him. Kinkaid shook it. But instead of releasing it immediately, he hung on to it and grinned at her again. “If the rest of my life is out, I’d still like to take you to dinner tonight.”
    “Thank you, but no,” Alex said firmly, pulling her hand free. She glanced up at Welch, meaning to request a few minutes of his time alone so she could say what she had come to say and be done with it. Before she could get the words out he spoke again.
    “While we’re making introductions, that’s Ben Ryder, our local dentist, over there behind the horse, and this,” he rested a light hand on the shoulder of the boy beside him, “is my son Josh.”
    There were handshakes all around and a murmured exchange of words.
    “Dad, can I go?” Josh asked impatiently as soon as the introductions were finished.
    Welch focused on his son. “You get all those stalls mucked out?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Horses fed and watered?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Tack all clean and put up?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Am I ever going to catch you smoking another cigarette?” There was a sternness to Welch’s face and tone that would have made Alex quake if she’d been a kid and they’d been directed at her.
    “No sir.”
    “Then I guess so. Put Victory Dance up, then you can go on back tothe house and help Jenny and Grandpa with that school project Jenny’s