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The old pastor frowned. “Well, we have to be honest. He also eats too much, is dumb as a post about what animals it’s not safe to chase, and as a guard dog he’d make a better ambassador of goodwill. Probably lick a burglar to death if one ever came ‘round. Guess that makes six faults. Major ones.”
    “You’re a real mess,” Cassidy said as she reached out slowly to pet the soft black fur on the dog’s ruff.
    Joshua took her wrist and put her hand on Bear when the dog started whining again. “This is Cassidy,” he told Bear, trying to ignore the feel of Cassidy’s fine-boned wrist beneath his fingers. “She’s a friend. Friend. But no jumping. Got it?”
    Bear abandoned Joshua’s lap to sit at Cassidy’s feet. His tail thumping, he handed her his paw, his pink tongue lolling out the side of his mouth.
    Joshua chuckled at the stupid love-struck look on the dog’s face. “I think you’ve got a friend for life,” he said, and stood, trying not to look as uncomfortable as he felt. Mud streaked his clothes while Cassidy looked as fresh as a spring rain. Bear could be a real ego buster.
    Cassidy looked up at him. “Oh, you’re a mess, too,” she sputtered, trying not to laugh.
    Joshua looked down at himself and chuckled. “Yeah, I’m a mess, all right,” he admitted, shooting Bear a what-am-I-going-to-do-with-you sort of look.
    “Son, you’d better run and clean up before Irma gets breakfast on,” Henry told him.
    Joshua almost used the mud as an escape from eating with them, but then he looked at Cassidy. She was smiling down at Bear. And this time the smile was in her eyes.
    Maybe he could help her get her life back on track. “I’ll see y’all at the table.”
     
    Cassidy tossed the book she was reading aside and stared up at the ceiling above the bed. She was at loose ends, with nothing but a book she’d read as a child to occupy her mind. Joshua had gone to help a family whose roof leaked. She imagined Irma was running her diner and Henry had gone to the thrift shop after breakfast. She would have gone to talk to him, but he was working on his sermon for a Wednesday evening service.
    She’d really stuck her foot in her mouth when that subject had come up at breakfast. She’d remarked that she’d thought people only went to church once a week—on Sunday. Joshua explained that many churches had a second Sunday evening service, and one on Wednesday night, as well. And yes, there were those who attended all three. He’d also explained that everyone referred to Henry as “Pastor Henry,” not Reverend Tallinger.
    Joshua was a compelling man. He was physically a big man, yet he treated his parents with a visible gentleness that was both touching and heartwarming. He had a strength of character that he projected in everything he spoke about during the meal, yet he seemed to depend on his parents in some indefinable but very tangible way. And though he treated his parents with the utmost respect, he called his father “Henry,” which was the biggest contradiction about him of all.
    Cassidy sat up and stared at herself in the mirror over the dresser. “Stop thinking about him!” she ordered herself. So his touch disturbed her. So he was the handsomest man she’d ever seen. He was also a hayseed preacher who fixed roofs and had an ill-mannered dog. And since when was she so curious about an unsuitable stranger? she thought stubbornly.
    She needed to do something to get her mind off him and onto the things she needed to think about. A walk. She’d take a walk. Commune with nature. That was it.
    Irma was in the kitchen when she walked by, so Cassidy stuck her head in the door. “I thought I’d take a walk. Which direction would you suggest?”
    “There’s a nice trail through the woods out behind the house. Joshua marked it and keeps it cleared. When you come to the fork in the trail, follow the sign that points to town. It’s written right on the sign. The other way is to our cabin,