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a lot of experience with difficult patients. I’ve been doing private duty nursing for two years. Before that I was on the orthopedic ward. I’ve worked with several heart patients recently. I believe those are the two issues your grandmother will be facing—recovery from both a heart attack and a broken hip?”

She spoke the way she looked, sensibly and with nothing wasted on the frivolous, which made him uncomfortable.

“I could put the game on here,” he said, jerking his head toward the TV in the corner. “The Mariners are tied.”

She blinked at him. “I don’t follow sports.”

Why was he not surprised? “So you don’t know who I am.”

“Should I?”

Ouch. “Sure. I’m a famous major league pitcher.”

“Then why do you work in a bar?”

“I blew out my shoulder.”

“Given the effort and daily stress necessary in that line of work, I’m not surprised. The body has limits, Mr. Buchanan. No matter how much we would like that reality to be different, it simply will not change.”

She reminded him of every teacher he’d never liked, all self-righteous and…and…priggy, he thought with no idea of where the word had come from.

She wore a long-sleeved shirt tucked into a boring skirt that fell well below her knees. Her shoes were ugly, she didn’t wear jewelry or makeup and if she narrowed her eyes at him any more, she was going to go cross-eyed. Her only redeeming feature—thick reddish-gold hair that she’d pulled back into a horrible braid—was wasted on her.

He wanted to tell her she wouldn’t do, except she was the most qualified applicant he’d met and from her work history, the most likely to be able to handle Gloria’s day shift.

“The agency said you want three nurses working eight-hour shifts,” she said. “We get paid a twelve-hour shift, regardless of the hours we work, so you’re really wasting money.”

“You haven’t met my grandmother,” he told her. “Eight hours is going to be difficult enough.”

“I see. Is the family close?”

“No.”

“Perhaps if you’d spent more time with her before her heart attack, she would have been easier to deal with.”

“What makes you think I didn’t?”

She smiled coolly. “With your very impressive baseball career, I’m sure you were on the road a lot.”

She was being sarcastic. Her tone gave nothing away, but he knew it down to his bones.

“Gloria isn’t like other grandmothers,” he said. “She runs an empire.”

“Perhaps, Mr. Buchanan, but everyone gets lonely. Especially the elderly. Many of them are in the position of having friends and loved ones gone. Does your grandmother have any contemporaries?”

“You mean friends?”

“Yes. People her own age with whom she has close attachments.”

He wanted to tell her he wasn’t a moron, but to what end? She wouldn’t believe him. “I don’t know.”

“I see.”

There were miles of disapproval in her voice.

“Are your parents still alive?” she asked.

“Ah, no.”

“So your grandmother has no friends you know about and she lost at least one of her children. Do you know what it does to a parent to outlive a child?”

He slid off the desk and stepped around it. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“I’m sure you haven’t done anything at all.”

“Hey, I’m not the bad guy here. If you don’t want the job, just say so.”

“I am interested in the job, Mr. Buchanan. I suspect your grandmother needs me.”

That made him smile. “If you’re thinking you’re going to rescue her from her uncaring relatives, you’re in for a shock, lady.”

Lori did not look convinced.

She would be, though. A few minutes in Gloria’s company and she’d come begging to apologize for what she’d said and assumed. He found himself looking forward to that.

“The job is yours if you want it,” he said.

“Thank you. I require regular meals, which means time to eat them. I am happy to do so in the company of your grandmother. I have low blood sugar and can’t go long periods without eating.”

“Not a problem. Do you bring your own food or would you prefer that we provide it?”

“I bring my own. I would also like to meet the other nurses you’ve hired.”

Reid had a feeling she wasn’t going to approve of anything about Sandy Larson.

“No problem.” He gave her the start date.

“Excellent.” She stood and held out her hand. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Buchanan. I’ll go back to the agency and fill out the paperwork. I’m looking forward to meeting your grandmother.”

“Me, too,” he said smugly. “Me, too.”

WALKER LOADED the last box in his SUV while Elissa hovered nearby and shifted nervously from foot to foot.

“I don’t like this,” she said. “I’m just not comfortable. What if something happens?”

When it had become obvious that her inventory and supplies wouldn’t fit in her small car, he’d insisted she use his.

“But it’s so expensive,” she’d protested.

He’d pointed out that’s why he had insurance. Necessity had forced her to agree, but he could tell she didn’t like it.

“I’ll be extra careful,” she promised.

He put an arm around her. “You don’t have to be. Relax. This is going to be a good weekend for you.”

“Maybe. I hope so.” She drew in a breath. “No, you’re right. It’s going to be great. If only it weren’t so early.”

He glanced at his watch. It was barely after six, but Elissa had to get to the craft fair in time to set up.

“What if no one buys my stuff?” she asked in a panic again. “What if I sit there for three days and don’t sell anything? I can’t do this.”

He had a feeling once she came uncorked she was never going to recover so he did the only thing he could think of to silence her. He kissed her.

She stiffened, then melted into him. Her arms came around him and he felt the familiar heat and need that were always lurking when he was near Elissa.

Between her work schedule, his work schedule and her frantic efforts to build enough inventory for the craft fair, they hadn’t seen much of each other in the past week, so there hadn’t been a repeat of their previous

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