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reasons to be—most of them with first and last names.”
    â€œWe’re not all assholes, you know, so you shouldn’t hold it against every man you meet. You can trust me when I say I’m here to help you, not to hurt you.”
    â€œWhy?” she asked. “Why have you gone out of your way for me like this?”
    He grinned. “Technically speaking it isn’t that far out of my way.”
    â€œI’m not talking about the drive. I mean the airport, picking me up, feeding me, and giving me a place to stay.”
    â€œMaybe because it’s the right thing to do…or maybe it’s because I like you.”
    â€œLike me? You don’t even know me,” she insisted.
    â€œI know enough”—he shrugged—“and I like what I see.”
    Ditto, cowboy. She’d been taking a subconscious inventory of him from the moment she’d met him and was hard pressed to find anything not to like. On top of all that, one kiss had scattered her wits to the four winds. Her attraction to Wade was growing worse by the hour. Some way, somehow, she needed to get away from him. Nikki closed her eyes, drifting off on those dangerous thoughts.
    â€œHere it is,” Wade announced. “Don’t blink or you’ll miss it all.”
    Nikki opened her eyes to find they’d arrived in Virginia City. She almost gaped when they drove down the center of town. Lined with false front buildings with clapboard siding, it looked like the set of Gunsmoke . “This is it? There isn’t even a traffic light.”
    â€œNope.” He chuckled. “The onetime capital of the Territory of Montana, and now the seat of Madison County, has fewer than two hundred full-time residents.”
    â€œIt’s surreal. I’m half expecting to see horses and stagecoaches…and a saloon.”
    â€œAll that happens in the height of summer when the town becomes a living museum. If you’re looking for the saloon, the Pioneer’s right over there.” He jerked a thumb to indicate a building beside the old Opera House. “This community thrives on the tourist trade now. The rest of the time it’s still pretty much a ghost town. I only come here when business requires, generally no more than once a week, sometimes less. Hard to believe this was once a thriving metropolis.”
    â€œWhat happened? Was there some kind of disaster?”
    â€œYou might say that. It was all built up around a single gold strike, the biggest one ever recorded in the Rockies. Within a week of the discovery, hundreds of prospectors and nine mining camps cropped up along the fourteen-mile stretch of Alder Creek. The first real settlement was built up here at the midpoint of the Alder Gulch. The town grew to ten thousand within months, but when the gold dried up so did the local economy.”
    â€œWhy is it named Virginia City? It’s nowhere near Virginia.”
    â€œThe original name proposed for the new town was ‘Varina,’ after the wife of Confederate President Jefferson Davis, but the territory’s judge was a staunch Unionist and refused to approve a charter with her name. He crossed it out and wrote in ‘Virginia’ instead.”
    â€œWow. I had no idea of the Old West history here.”
    â€œThere’s tons of it. We even have a boot hill. If that kinda thing interests you, I’d be happy to give you the ten-cent tour later.”
    â€œYeah.” She smiled. “I think I’d like that.”
    He parked the truck on the street, hopped out, and came around to offer his hand to help her step down from the truck. For a moment she hesitated. She couldn’t recall the last man who’d opened a door or helped her with anything. Even in the South, chivalry seemed a rare commodity these days. She found his old-fashioned manners flattering, although peculiar.
    â€œMy office is right here.” He inclined his head to the false front