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“How are you finding your stay so far?” Mrs. Darcy finally asked.
“I’ve only been here a couple of days,” Lexi said. “I spent the first getting over jet lag, and the second getting familiar with the Bible college and surrounds again.”
“Again?”
“Lexi was here with us until ten years ago.”
Lexi nodded. “College—university—courses are cheaper in Australia, so it made sense to study nursing there. Then, when I got a job as a graduate—”
“A targeted graduate,” Lexi’s mother said proudly. “When the best and brightest are selected for immediate placements. That’s what targeted means, right?”
Lexi’s smile stiffened as she nodded. Targeted had proved to be the word, all right.
As her mother and Mrs. Darcy fell into conversation, Lexi’s glance drifted across the milling congregants, falling on a nearby young couple who fitted the farmer category she’d observed before. The young woman wore a faded flowery dress, scuffed cowboy boots, and a dark braid. Lexi’s own ensemble of white jeans, purple silk shirt, and heels couldn’t have been more different. The young farmer—actually, scratch that. The man’s dark jeans, boots, and big silver buckle suggested he could be a cowboy. He appeared fit and strong with broad shoulders, muscled arms, and a trim waist. That was purely a professional opinion, of course. She swallowed. She wasn’t looking. He obviously was taken.
Her gaze lifted to meet his, and her breath suspended. His dark eyes and curly hair reminded her of a young Orlando Bloom, his features possessing a magnetic quality. Too much magnetism. She snatched her gaze away. Time to get out of here.
“Lexi?” Her dad drew her attention. “I’ll just be a few minutes, okay?”
She nodded. “I’ll wait near the car.”
“I think a few of the younger folk like to eat at Joe’s Diner.” He pointed to a store on the corner near the park. “They’re used to visitors joining them. You’d be very welcome, I’m sure.”
“Thanks, but maybe another time.”
He studied her for a moment, disappointment palpable in his dimmed smile and eyes. “It’ll be a long summer without friends,” he said.
“I’ll make friends.” And she would. Just not today. Not when there was still so much to process.
She flipped her long mane of strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder and pivoted on the path, but her movement was too fast, and her stupid heel wobbled, then snapped off, and she was falling, falling—
* * *
Oof!
Jackson Reilly swung an arm down and collected the visitor, saving her just before she hit the deck. His grip tightened as he stared into eyes the color of summer hills, the pale green holding something that looked a lot like fear.
“Gotcha.”
She shivered, then wriggled to get free.
He drew her to her feet. She broke loose, then almost nosedived again as her ridiculous heels wobbled.
“Steady,” he said, putting out a hand to hold her.
“Get off me.”
Her words cut like a whip, and he obeyed, palms up, and took a step away.
“Lexi, are you okay?” Mrs. Franklin, the wife of the Bible college director, wrapped an arm around the woman.
“I want to go,” the woman said.
“Jackson, thank you,” Mrs. Franklin said warmly.
“No problem.” When it looked like the rude redhead wasn’t going to offer thanks, he drawled, “I think you need some new shoes, Miss Lexi.”
Her eyes snapped to him, and he bit back a smile as it became obvious she was trying to figure out what to say. “You think?”
