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not there.” His expression turned solicitous. “They’ll come back into the market, Kelly. It’s just a matter of time.”
    Kelly gave a snort. “Time is something Steve doesn’t have anymore, Curt. He’s watching everything he’s built up over the last ten years crumble away before his eyes. And Jennifer says it won’t be over anytime soon. I don’t know how long he can hold on.”
    Curt leaned over the table. “Believe me, Kelly, I’d loan Steve the money myself, but he wouldn’t accept it. I actually offered last month when he started driving down to Denver. He thanked me and said he’d handle it.”
    “ Damn! ” Kelly said louder, not caring this time if anyone overheard. “That’s stupid. I thought for sure he’d accept help from you. I mean . . . he won’t take it from me.” She gestured in aggravation. “I offered, but he looked at me with this shocked expression and then said, ‘no way.’ ”
    “Steve’s not going to take money from you, Kelly. So don’t even ask him,” Curt advised sagely.
    “But why ? He’d give me money if I needed it.”
    “Steve’s too proud to accept help from anyone right now, Kelly. And especially not you.”
    “But if investors can’t get loans, I may be the only one who could.”
    “It doesn’t matter, Kelly. Steve’s not going to take money from you. You know that,” Curt said with a wry smile.
    Kelly did know that. When she’d first made a tentative offer to help him get through this rough patch, Steve looked at her as if she’d grown another head. A mixture of shock and horror.
    “ Arrrrgh ,” Kelly complained, dropping her head into her hand. “It makes no sense.”
    Curt chuckled. “Sense isn’t the reason a man and a woman get together in the first place, Kelly.” Then added, “You know that.”
     
     
     
    Kelly grabbed her over-the-shoulder briefcase and her coffee mug, then slammed her car door. She had to have some of Eduardo’s coffee—extra-strong coffee—before she tackled the Houseman accounts. And she was going to work in the knitting shop instead of her cottage. She was still stewing over her earlier conversation with Curt concerning Steve. The more Kelly thought about Steve and his “pride,” the more annoyed she became.
    She heaved the heavy wooden door open and sailed through, heading into the foyer toward the main knitting room, drinking in all the colorful yarns. She’d drop her briefcase first, refill her mug, then settle in with her laptop. Maybe all the warm and fuzzy yarns and fall colors would put her in a better mood. As she turned the corner, she saw retired Fort Connor detective Burt sitting at the library table talking with a young man who looked to be college-aged. They both turned at her approach.
    “Don’t stop talking, Burt. I’m just dropping off my stuff and getting coffee.”
    “That’s okay, Kelly, this young man wants to meet you,” Burt said with his genial smile. “Kelly, this is Tommy Macenroe, Barbara’s son. Tommy, meet Kelly Flynn; she’s the one who lives in the cottage across the driveway.”
    Tommy leaped out of his chair and approached Kelly, hand outstretched. “Ms. Flynn, I wanted to thank you for helping my girlfriend, Holly, last month. Thanks to you, Holly got the medical help she needed.”
    Kelly shook his hand, observing the earnestness in his brown eyes. Tommy was tall and slender and had a nice face. “You can call me Kelly, and I’m glad I was there to help. My cottage was the only bright spot along the dark golf course, so I’m sure that’s why Holly headed for it.”
    “Well, I’m glad she found you at home. I don’t want to think about what might have happened if she hadn’t found someone to help her.”
    “Tommy’s a paramedic, or at least he was until last month when he moved to Denver to attend medical school,” Burt said, his smile revealing a paternal pride.
    “Yes, I’ve heard about your accomplishments from Mimi. Congratulations, Tommy. Not many