A Woman's Touch

decided she had little choice in the matter. She checked into the motel and considered herself fortunate. If the place had been full she would have had to drive on to the next town which was some distance away.
    The room was paneled in fake wood, making the small space seem even darker and more confining that it already was. But the facilities worked and the bed was not as lumpy as it might have been under the circumstances. Rebecca unpacked her clothes and went in search of a bite to eat.
    She had all afternoon to find Harmony Valley, she told herself. Now that she was near her goal, she wasn’t quite so intent on reaching it. A part of her was suddenly reluctant to come face-to-face with the land that had destroyed her relationship with Kyle Stockbridge.
    The cafe was filled with men wearing battered cowboy hats and caps that bore the famous logos of the makers of farm machinery. Rebecca was treated to a series of curious stares as she made her way to the one empty booth at the back. She suppressed a small smile. Strangers were obviously a rarity around these parts.
    She took a seat and picked up the menu. It struck her that this miniscule burg was Kyle Stockbridge’s hometown.
    Somehow it didn’t seem odd that Kyle came from a place like this. She could envision him growing up in these mountains, becoming as hard and forbidding as the Rockies themselves.
    „Hamburger and fries, please,“ Rebecca said to the waitress who came to take her order.
    „Cheese?“ the young woman asked, tossing her ponytail back over her shoulder. The gum she was chewing snapped cheerfully.
    „Yes, please. And a cup of coffee.“
    „Be right back.“

    The waitress turned her head as a murmur of recognition and welcome went through the cafe.
    Rebecca glanced toward the door along with everyone else and stiffened with shock.
    „Hey,“ the waitress said with a pleased grin. „That’s Kyle Stockbridge. Haven’t seen him around here for ages.“
    She waved enthusiastically, and her gum snapped again. „How you doin’, Kyle?“
    It was Kyle, all right, but not the Kyle Rebecca was familiar with. He wasn’t dressed in a business suit, for one thing. He was wearing a pair of faded, snug-fitting jeans, a denim shirt and old, scarred boots. He had a black Stetson pulled down low over his eyes. It was obvious he was on familiar turf. He walked with the long, easy stride of a man who has spent time in the saddle and in the mountains.
    There were a variety of friendly nods and laconic greetings as Kyle made his way down the aisle to Rebecca’s booth. Strangers might be treated to cool, assessing stares around here, she thought wryly, but someone with roots in the area obviously got a different sort of welcome.
    A part of her was thrilled to see him. The wave of longing that went through Rebecca made her dizzy for a moment before she managed to clamp a lid on her errant emotions.
    But she knew from the gleam of satisfaction in Kyle’s eyes that she had betrayed herself for a dangerous instant.
    „Hello, baby,“ he said smoothly as he took the seat across from her. „Surprised to see me?“
    „Yes,“ she said tightly.
    „You shouldn’t be. You must have known I’d follow you to Timbuktu.“
    „This isn’t Timbuktu.“
    He smiled faintly as he set his hat down beside him on the red plastic upholstery. „True. But it is the only cafe in town. I checked at the motel and they said you were having lunch. It wasn’t hard to find you. Don’t forget, I’ve found you before under more difficult circumstances.“
    „You followed me,“ she accused softly.
    „That’s why you make such a good executive assistant, Becky. You’re so sharp. So alert to the little nuances of a situation. So intuitive. Yes, ma’am, you’re right. I followed you. What are you having for lunch?“
    „A hamburger.“
    „Wise choice. I appreciate your not embarrassing me by trying to order pasta or Cajun chicken here. I’d be laughed out of town.“ He glanced up at the young waitress who had appeared at his side with a pot of coffee. „I’ll have a burger, too, Jan. Make it rare.“
    „Sure, Kyle.“ She poured his coffee first and then poured Rebecca’s. „You stayin’ around long this trip?“
    „Depends.“
    Jan slanted him a knowing look. „We all expected you to show up right after Alice Cork died. Dad said he expected you and Glen Ballard to ride into town with guns blazing. Thought the two of you would shoot it out in front of