"How would I know?" His voice fairly boomed over the phone. "It sounds like you need to set him straight."

She suppressed a giggle. It was sinful to get so much pleasure out of another person's predicament. Maybe a wee bit more fun. Then lower the boom.

"Set him strait about what?"

"About you...that he's not supposed to...that you're coming back here - home, in a few weeks, or less."

Colin O'Hara flustered? She sighed audibly.

"Oh for heaven's sake, Dad. Do you really think I'm that gullible?"

"Gullible?" He paused. "Oh, you were stringing me along." His breath came out in a long sigh of relief. "Don't do that. You had me worried senseless. I guess I had it coming, though. It's a habit of mine, you know - watching after you."

"I know, but it's one you need to kick. I'm beginning to feel smothered instead of loved."

"I'm sorry. I promise to work on it."

Sorry? Was there another side to Dad? Of course, mostly she had viewed him as a parent, not a person. Suddenly all the fun drained out of teasing him.

"I know I'm lucky to have someone so concerned about me, but I guess I don't act very grateful sometimes."

"Don't start apologizing." His voice was gruff. "You'll have us both in tears."

Her throat was constricting with emotion, so she forced a flippant response. "I'm going to be in tears when I get my bill this month if I don't get off this phone. I've got to go. It's a long drive back."

"Where are you?"

She explained why she was in Fayetteville and mentioned that Keaton had braved the storm to be with her. He had done so at considerable risk to himself and deserved the credit.

"Sounds like you're in good hands. Tell your chicken farmer I'm obliged to him for watching over you. Maybe Santa will put a little extra something in his stocking this year."

"I'm sure he figures it's all in a days' work."

His laugh was short. "You figure taking care of one more critter is no big deal?"

"Not for a farmer," she giggled. It was nice to have the air cleared between them. Hopefully Dad would talk to Keaton and there would be no more cat and mouse games.

She did a little shopping and drove home, humming a tune. Things were beginning to work out now. Maybe there would be time for a little fun after all. But what was there to do around here? Maybe Keaton would know. He seemed to know a lot about Arkansas.

Keaton's car was parked in the drive when she arrived, but he was nowhere in sight. As she climbed the porch steps, a chopping sound drifted from the back yard. Unlocking the door, she hurried through the house, dropping the packages on the table. Exiting the cabin through the back door, she found Keaton, stripped to the waist. His muscular back glistened with perspiration as he swung the ax, expertly splitting a chunk of wood. There wasn't an ounce of fat on him. Indigo jeans clung to his lean hips, but he still wore the white sneakers. He turned to pick up the scattered pieces of wood and caught her watching him.




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