Gingerbread Man

and revealed there was more to her than the old wounds, the history, the baggage. Everything in him had resisted her far more easily before she'd decided to stand up and fight. From that moment on, he hadn't stood a chance.
    Graycloud was leaning over her now, fingers on her wrist while she held a thermometer in her mouth. An old-fashioned model. No digital electronic stick for Doc Graycloud. The wind howled outside, lashing the house as if trying to break in. Vince wondered if the old actor was awake, listening to it and reliving his glory days.
    A soft hand cupped his shoulder. "She's going to be just fine, you know. Holly is a very strong woman."
    He glanced sideways at Amanda, saw her blue eyes on Dr. Graycloud and Holly. "I thought you two didn't know each other very well," Vince said.
    "We've lived in the same small town for almost two years, Detective. We may not be intimate friends, but it would be impossible not to know a little bit about each other." She sighed, watching Dr. Graycloud remove the thermometer from Holly's mouth, and squint at its numbers. "I've always wished I were more like her. Strong, self-assured."
    It occurred to him that if obsessive-compulsive, panic-attack prone Holly seemed like a pillar of stability to her, Amanda must be a virtual basket case. But that wasn't fair and he knew it. Besides, this was no time to be reminding himself of all the reasons he should avoid Holly Newman like the plague. He could do that later. This was an opportunity to gather information.
    "It's a shame everyone in town doesn't agree with you," he said, dragging his gaze off Holly and fixing it on Amanda to watch her face, gauge her reactions.
    She frowned at him. "What do you mean? Everyone loves Holly."
    Was there a hint of resentment in her tone just then? Maybe... maybe just a little. "Not everyone," he said. "The person who put the light out last night so we couldn't find our way back, for example."
    She looked shocked by his words. "You really think someone would do that deliberately?"
    "I think there have been a few too many coincidences lately for them to be considered coincidences at all."
    "Such as?"
    "Someone snooping in my cabin. Someone in Holly's house while her mother was asleep."
    Her eyes widened. "You think it's someone from Dilmun?"
    "I've been checking around. The tourists have all gone home except for a couple of fishermen who've been coming here for twenty years. There are no strangers in town that anyone seems aware of. Other than me, that is."
    "And you have no idea who it could be?"
    "Nope. How about you?"
    Her head came up fast, eyes snapping to his. "Goodness, no. What makes you think I'd know anything about it?"
    He only shrugged. "You live here. If she has any enemies, I figured you'd know about it."
    "She doesn't. Most people in this town would gladly throw themselves into the path of a speeding train for Holly Newman."
    This time the emotion in the words was too obvious to ignore. "That almost sounds as if you're a little envious, Amanda."
    She shook her head. "I have Reggie. He's all I need."
    "Is he?" She looked at him, saying nothing. "You seem... lonely, to me."
    Her gaze rose, even though her head stayed lowered, soft brown hair veiling her face. "Do I?" He didn't reply. She sighed. "I'm not. Not really. I don't like people. I prefer to be alone. Truly."
    "Why is that, Amanda?"
    She stared at him, but she didn't answer. Instead she turned toward the door. "Call me if you need anything." Then she left.
    He watched her until she was out of sight, then glanced back at the bed. Holly looked away fast. Her jaw was tight, her lips pressed hard together, and her eyes angry... and maybe the tiniest bit jealous.
    * * *
    SHE DIDN'T KNOW why she was letting herself go from disliking the man intensely to burning up for him, but she had. All in the space of a single night, though she knew damned well it had been going on far longer. From that first day, in fact
    She hadn't ever been this powerfully attracted to a man before. She didn't know if there was anything real to it or not, despite her persistent sense that there must be. She supposed it might be tied, somehow, to her psyche, and the bombs that had been going off within it for the past several days. He was connected to all of that. Maybe that was the basis for the attraction.
    No. No, it was more.
    It didn't matter. The cause, that is. What mattered was that for a very long time, she'd been fairly certain she would never feel