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glad you’re here. They needed some part of Gregory to hang on to. Especially Dad.”
    “He’s the one who looks fragile,” she ventured.
    “I’m afraid he is,” Matt answered shortly. “But don’t let him hear you say that.”
    Ruth was returning with the plate of blintzes. Brynn stared at them in dismay. She’d brought enough food for Brynn and half-a-dozen football players. “This really is too much.”
    “Just eat what you want,” Ruth answered cheerfully, her attention caught by one of the guests who called out to her.
    “You want a reprieve? Go to town with her,” Matt advised. “She likes to leave early so she has time to cross the border into Idaho and buy a lottery ticket”
    “There’s a town?” Brynn questioned, always curious.
    “Of sorts.”
    Brynn looked down at the mammoth serving of food. “You’re sure she won’t insist I eat all this first?” The thought of riding up and down the switchbacks of the winding canyon after eating nearly a mountain of food was unsettling.
    “Nope.” He tapped the side of his head. “Lottery ticket. Remember?”
    “Suddenly I feel a winning streak coming on,” Brynn decided.
    “If you’re really lucky, you won’t win seconds,” he warned, one lip curling upward in amusement as he glanced at her loaded plate.
    Meeting his gaze, she was struck again by his terribly physical good looks. Hair the color of highly polished mahogany was laced with streaks of gold, no doubt from time spent on the slopes. His face—all slashes and angles of features that without their ruggedness would seem nearly too perfect—no doubt drew women in numbers, especially when they focused in on that dent in his chin, the sensuous lips, the dusky eyes.
    Reining her thoughts in with an internal snap, she also straightened in her chair. It didn’t matter what Matt looked like. At most all he could ever be was a brother-in-law. But he wasn’t looking very brotherly at the moment.
    Brothers. She had to remember. He was the brother of Gregory—the man who had captured her heart. The man who had been captured
    That thought shocked all others away.
    She pushed away the plate, leaving it untouched. “Thanks for the advice. I’d better find a jacket. If your mother comes back, would you tell her I’d like to go to town? And that I won’t make her late?”
    Not giving him time to more than nod, Brynn rushed away. She was obviously certifiable. Not only was she playing a terrible trick on these people, she was now having unwanted thoughts about Gregory’s brother. And Gregory was the one she needed to concentrate on.
    Her Mr. Right—the man who would probably be shocked to find her installed in his family home. She needed to retrieve more than her jacket; she needed to recover what was left of her marbles.
     
    BRYNN TOOK IN THE SIGHTS, the people, the small-town atmosphere—and found herself being charmed again. Although she’d lived in many places, her mother’s tastes hadn’t run to small-town Americana. In fact, Charlene Magee had been rather vocal about what she’d termed “the bumpkin factor.” But Brynn really didn’t share many of her mother’s sensibilities. In fact, there was little they did share.
    Ruth MacKenzie, on the other hand, wanted to share everything—including her friends and neighbors. So far, Brynn had been introduced to everyone they’d encountered. Which made traveling more than a dozen yards a time-consuming feat.
    But it was a novel experience for her. Never having lived anyplace long enough to form any real friendships, she’d remained terminally shy. Even as an adult, she hadn’t been able to conquer that fear, the timidity that prevented the closeness with other people, which she craved. Neighbors had remained strangers and even the number of her acquaintances had been limited. She’d certainly never talked to everyone she met on the street.
    But now, Ruth easily paved the way, making it impossible for Brynn not to talk to those they