Reach For the Spy by Diane Henders Page A

far too many years in the city.
It’s so good to be out in the country again.”
    “You’re a country girl
at heart?”
    “I grew up on a farm. I
lived in the city the whole time I was married, but when my husband
died two years ago, I was ready to get out. There was nothing there
for me anymore.”
    He nodded slowly. “I’m
sorry for your loss. It’s a little unusual for a woman to move out
to the country alone, though, if you don’t mind my saying so.”
    I grinned at him. “I’m
a freak.”
    He laughed. “I’d say
‘interesting’.” He eyed me for a few seconds before seeming to come
to a decision. “I heard you had some troubles back in March.”
    Shit. Damn small
towns.
    “Yeah.”
    “I must have heard the
rumour wrong,” he said slowly. “I heard you’d had some trouble with
your ex-husband, and you ended up in the hospital. But you said
just now that you’re widowed.”
    I shifted uncomfortably
in my seat. The psycho ex-husband had been my cover story back in
March, when I’d run afoul of Fuzzy Bunny for the first time. I
really didn’t want to repeat the lie, but I didn’t see that I had
much choice.
    “Unfortunately, widowed
and divorced are not mutually exclusive. The problems were with my
first husband. They’re all taken care of now. He won’t bother me
again. I’m widowed from my second husband.”
    His face cleared. “That
explains it. Well, I’m sorry you had a problem. If you ever need
any help, don’t forget you have neighbours.”
    “Thanks, Tom. That’s
another thing I missed about living in the country.”
    Our conversation
meandered easily over farming life while Jeff, Donna, and Eddy
served a delicious four-course meal, dessert, and coffee. We
discovered a common love of cars, and we were deep in a discussion
of Chevy big-blocks when Jeff’s whistle pierced the air again.
    “Folks, thanks for
coming,” he addressed the crowd. “This is the end of the official
part of our fundraiser, but you’re welcome to stay as long as you
like. Or if you’re interested, there’s a dance out at the community
hall, and Eddy here has generously covered your admission. So go,
enjoy, and thanks again for supporting our firefighters.”
    The murmur of
conversation started again, accompanied by the sound of chairs
being pushed back as a few people began to drift toward the
exit.
    Tom gave me his
attractively crooked smile again. “What do you say? Do you want to
go to the dance?”
    “I’m not much of a
dancer,” I told him regretfully. “I enjoy it, but I don’t know any
dances besides a waltz and a polka.”
    “You don’t know how to
two-step?” He regarded me with mock horror. “Ma’am, ya cain’t live
in the country if ya cain’t two-step,” he drawled.
    “Damn. So you’re
telling me I’m going to get ridden out on a rail?”
    The weathered skin
around his eyes crinkled into the kind of laugh lines that never
failed to captivate me. “Your only escape is if you come to the
dance with me. I’ll teach you.”
    “You don’t know what
you’re getting into. I’m a dangerous woman around unprotected
toes.”
    He laughed and rose.
“I’ll take the chance.”
    I shrugged and got up
with him. “Your loss. I hope your insurance is paid up.”
    He ushered me out the
door. “Do you know where the community hall is?”
    “I think so.”
    “If you want, I could
drive us over and then bring you back here to pick up your car
afterward. It’d save us taking two vehicles.”
    I considered that for a
moment. I’ve never been particularly trusting, and the last several
months hadn’t helped.
    But it wasn’t like I
was going off with a stranger into the middle of nowhere. The
community hall was only a few minutes’ drive away, and everyone at
the fundraiser had seen us together. He’d have to be downright
stupid to attack me. And despite his laid-back country-boy
appearance, our dinner conversation had proven he was definitely
not stupid.
    I looked up at him in
the