get.'"
"I seem to remember Andrea saying that. She actually told me how to do it, but my brain doesn't retain things like that."
Tyler's smile flickered. "Maybe you should write it up as if it's a recipe."
"Just might work." She smiled up at him, relaxing now that the work was done. For a moment time seemed to halt. She was lost in the deep blue of his eyes, the room so quiet she could hear his breathing.
She drew in a strangled breath of her own and broke the eye contact, grateful he couldn't know how her pulse was pounding.
That was unexpected. Or was it? Hadn't the attraction been there, underlying the tension, each time they were together?
Tyler cleared his throat. "You know, you could hire someone to run the Web site for you." He seemed to be talking at random, as much at a loss as she was.
Oddly enough, that helped her regain her poise. "Can't afford it," she said bluntly. "We're operating on a shoestring as it is, and it's getting a bit frayed at the moment."
He blinked. "I didn't realize. I mean—" His gesture took in the room, but she understood that he meant the house and grounds, too. "People who live in places like this often don't have to count their pennies."
"That's why it's a bed-and-breakfast." She wasn't usually so forthcoming, but it wasn't anything that everyone in the township didn't already know. And probably would be happy to gossip about. "If Grams is going to keep the place, this seems her only option. Luckily, she's a born hostess, and she's enjoying it. Otherwise, she'd have to sell."
"She doesn't want to do that, so you feel you have to help her."
"Not exactly. I mean, I love it, too." Was it possible he'd understand her feelings? "But even if I didn't, Grams was always there for us when our parents weren't. I owe her."
"I take it your folks had a rocky marriage."
"You could say that. My father left more times than I can count, until finally he just didn't come back."
"That's when you lived with your grandparents?"
She nodded. "They were our rock. Now it's our turn. I'll do whatever is necessary to make this work for Grams."
His face seemed to become guarded, although his voice, when he spoke, was light. "Even if it means learning how to do the Web site."
"Only until Andrea comes back." She frowned, thinking of yet another chore. "I guess I really should put some Christmas photos up, too. She and Cal won't be home in time to do that."
"If you get stuck, just give me a shout." He turned away, his expression still somehow distant.
Some barrier had gone up between them, and she wasn't sure why. Because of her determination to take care of her grandmother, and he equated that with interference in what he planned? If so, he was right.
He paused at the door, glancing back at her. "Good night, Rachel. Don't work too hard."
"Thanks again for the help."
He vanished behind the partially open door, and she heard his steady footsteps mounting the stairs.
If she let herself start thinking about Tyler's situation, she'd never sleep tonight. "Come on, Barney." She clicked her fingers at the dog. "Let's go to bed. We'll worry about it tomorrow."
* * *
It was unusual to be unable to concentrate on work. Tyler had always prided himself on his ability to shut out everything in order to focus on the job at hand, but not this time.
He closed the computer file and shut down his laptop. No, not this time. Before he came to Churchville, he'd thought the task he'd set himself, although probably impossible, was at least fairly straightforward. Find out what he could about his grandfather's death, deal with the property, go back to his normal life with his conscience intact.
He hadn't counted on the human element. Everyone he'd met since he arrived seemed to have a stake in his actions—or at least an opinion as to his choices.
Restless, he moved to the window that overlooked the street, folding back the shutters, and leaned on the deep windowsill. The innkeeper, the antique dealer, the doctor's
"I seem to remember Andrea saying that. She actually told me how to do it, but my brain doesn't retain things like that."
Tyler's smile flickered. "Maybe you should write it up as if it's a recipe."
"Just might work." She smiled up at him, relaxing now that the work was done. For a moment time seemed to halt. She was lost in the deep blue of his eyes, the room so quiet she could hear his breathing.
She drew in a strangled breath of her own and broke the eye contact, grateful he couldn't know how her pulse was pounding.
That was unexpected. Or was it? Hadn't the attraction been there, underlying the tension, each time they were together?
Tyler cleared his throat. "You know, you could hire someone to run the Web site for you." He seemed to be talking at random, as much at a loss as she was.
Oddly enough, that helped her regain her poise. "Can't afford it," she said bluntly. "We're operating on a shoestring as it is, and it's getting a bit frayed at the moment."
He blinked. "I didn't realize. I mean—" His gesture took in the room, but she understood that he meant the house and grounds, too. "People who live in places like this often don't have to count their pennies."
"That's why it's a bed-and-breakfast." She wasn't usually so forthcoming, but it wasn't anything that everyone in the township didn't already know. And probably would be happy to gossip about. "If Grams is going to keep the place, this seems her only option. Luckily, she's a born hostess, and she's enjoying it. Otherwise, she'd have to sell."
"She doesn't want to do that, so you feel you have to help her."
"Not exactly. I mean, I love it, too." Was it possible he'd understand her feelings? "But even if I didn't, Grams was always there for us when our parents weren't. I owe her."
"I take it your folks had a rocky marriage."
"You could say that. My father left more times than I can count, until finally he just didn't come back."
"That's when you lived with your grandparents?"
She nodded. "They were our rock. Now it's our turn. I'll do whatever is necessary to make this work for Grams."
His face seemed to become guarded, although his voice, when he spoke, was light. "Even if it means learning how to do the Web site."
"Only until Andrea comes back." She frowned, thinking of yet another chore. "I guess I really should put some Christmas photos up, too. She and Cal won't be home in time to do that."
"If you get stuck, just give me a shout." He turned away, his expression still somehow distant.
Some barrier had gone up between them, and she wasn't sure why. Because of her determination to take care of her grandmother, and he equated that with interference in what he planned? If so, he was right.
He paused at the door, glancing back at her. "Good night, Rachel. Don't work too hard."
"Thanks again for the help."
He vanished behind the partially open door, and she heard his steady footsteps mounting the stairs.
If she let herself start thinking about Tyler's situation, she'd never sleep tonight. "Come on, Barney." She clicked her fingers at the dog. "Let's go to bed. We'll worry about it tomorrow."
* * *
It was unusual to be unable to concentrate on work. Tyler had always prided himself on his ability to shut out everything in order to focus on the job at hand, but not this time.
He closed the computer file and shut down his laptop. No, not this time. Before he came to Churchville, he'd thought the task he'd set himself, although probably impossible, was at least fairly straightforward. Find out what he could about his grandfather's death, deal with the property, go back to his normal life with his conscience intact.
He hadn't counted on the human element. Everyone he'd met since he arrived seemed to have a stake in his actions—or at least an opinion as to his choices.
Restless, he moved to the window that overlooked the street, folding back the shutters, and leaned on the deep windowsill. The innkeeper, the antique dealer, the doctor's
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