“That’s not true. All the waitresses are female.”

“Some things never change.” Jenna rolled her eyes, wondering exactly what she was getting into. She knew what these places were like. She hadn’t been in one since she was seventeen and slinging hash on nights and weekends to buy clothes for school, but she hadn’t forgotten the come-ons disguised as teasing that were always one step away from turning ugly when she refused. As she and Gard stepped through the revolving glass door into the brightly lit long, narrow room, she saw the familiar vinyl-lined booths hugging the front windows and the topsy-turvy counter stools on the other side of the narrow, grease-splattered aisle. Men ranging from twenty to sixty hunched over coffee in all the booths, most of them wearing green work shirts and khaki pants, all with sweat-ringed caps sporting the logos of long-distance trucking companies. And every single one of them turned to watch her and Gard make their way slowly to the counter. She didn’t mind being looked at. She was on stage almost every day of her life. But for an instant, she couldn’t help remembering the girl she had been—her clothes outdated, her hair home-cut, her eyes haunted by the oppressive neglect of growing up with a woman who saw her as nothing more than a meal ticket. She was expected to accept the offers for a night of fun, no matter how crudely put, because everyone knew she could do no better. The past came rushing back so quickly she abruptly stopped.

“Just a little farther,” Gard murmured, resting her hand at the small of Jenna’s back. “There’re open spaces right over here.”

“I’m fine,” Jenna said.

“You’re ten shades of pale. This was a stupid idea. I’m sorry.”

“I’m fine, damn it. Just give me a lift onto the stool. This brace is impossible to move in.”

“That’s the idea.” Despite what Jenna’d said, Gard slid her arm farther around Jenna’s waist, worried she might faint. A wolf-whistle cut through the air and Gard swiveled her head, honing in on a scruffy guy with bloodshot eyes leering at them. Leering at Jenna. She wanted to smack the lascivious grin off his face, and then pulled herself up short. Hell, she bumped shoulders with good ole boys like him every day and never gave their off-color remarks and lewd looks a second thought. She blanked her expression and locked on his eyes until he slid his gaze away.

“Here you go.” Gard guided Jenna onto a stool and took the one next to her, extending one leg a little into the aisle to protect Jenna’s injured knee from careless passersby. Leaning over the counter, she signaled to a heavyset bleached-blonde in a too-short, tight black skirt who poured coffee a few seats away. “Hey, Betty. Could you bring us an orange juice and a couple of those glazed doughnuts right away?”

The blonde glared before spotting Gard, her iceberg expression melting into a hot pink smile. “Of course, darlin’.”

“I’m really all right,” Jenna murmured, refusing to give in to yet another case of the swirlies.

“You just need a little sugar to counteract all the stress. If you’re not feeling better in a few minutes, we’ll get something to go.”

“All right. Thanks.” Jenna hated being so exposed and vulnerable. “I’m not usually such a wimp.”

“You mentioned being in the hospital this morning,” Gard said. “What happened?”

“Nothing. It was just a…thing.”

“Oh. The dreaded thing. They can be a nuisance.”

Betty slid two enormous honey-colored glazed doughnuts in front of them along with glasses of orange juice. “Coffee too?”

“Yes,” Gard said. “Thanks.”

“None for me.” Jenna broke off a piece of the doughnut, put it in her mouth, and nearly swooned as an explosion of warm dough and sweet maple assaulted her taste buds. “Oh my God. What is this?”

“Vermont’s own maple-glazed doughnuts. They make them here.”

“This place is dangerous.”

“Wait until you taste breakfast.” Gard nodded her thanks to Betty when the coffee arrived and asked for two specials. “So you were telling me about this thing.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Why don’t you anyway.”

Jenna sighed. “You are annoyingly stubborn.”

“You can add that to overbearingly authoritative.”

Jenna laughed. Nothing seemed to faze this woman. “I’ve been on a really hectic book tour for almost a month. I had a signing that ran late last night, I didn’t get much sleep, and I…sort of fainted. That’s all. It wasn’t a big deal.”

“Sort of fainted, or did?”

Jenna swiped a hand through her hair. “Did.”

“And then you flew up here, injured your knee, and haven’t had dinner or any sleep tonight either. No wonder you’re light-headed.”

“Who said I’m light-headed.”

“Aren’t you?”

“Maybe a little.” Jenna ate some more of the doughnut, feeling her strength return as the sugar surged through her bloodstream. “I’m going straight to hell for eating this thing. How many does it take before you’re addicted?”

Gard glanced at Jenna’s plate. “You’re about there now.”

Jenna moaned. “That’s what I was afraid of.”

“I’ll feel better if you stayed at my place for the rest of the night.”

“Really.” Jenna pushed away the last half of the doughnut and swiveled on the seat to face Gard. “You work fast for someone who isn’t interested in dating.”

“If I wanted to date, I’d make it more obvious and I’d suggest somewhere more exciting than my guest room. You’ve had a hard day and a harder night. I don’t know how to say this without insulting you, but you look like hell.”

“Well, that may be the reason you don’t date very much, Dr. Davis. You’re somewhat lacking in tact.”

“So I’ve been told,” Gard said.

“So far tonight,” Jenna said, ticking points off on one hand, “I’ve forced you to drive for hours in the middle of the night to shuttle me from the airport, then provide emergency medical care, and now you’re ferrying me around so I can eat. I’m hardly going to add to all that by having you put me up at your house. I have a perfectly good hotel room waiting. But thank you.”

“There’s only one place in town and it’s perfectly fine, but it’s more of a motel. There’s one night clerk who, if I’m not mistaken, is barely out of high school. If you have a problem, I don’t want you to be there alone. I have to leave at six for my calls. You’ll be able to sleep in until I get back around noon. Then I’ll take you to the motel.”

“No. I’m not inconveniencing you any—”

“If I have to drive you to town it’s another half an hour each way. My place is a mile off this road.”

Jenna eyed Gard suspiciously. “And you just happened to take me to the diner that was around the corner from your house?”

Gard grinned. “A mile is hardly around the corner.”

“Don’t give me that. I know what things are like out in the country. This place is practically in your backyard.”

“Not always a city girl, hmm?”

Jenna flushed and clasped her hands in her lap before Gard could see them shaking. “You’re nefarious.”

“Now there is a word I haven’t been called in…oh, a century or so.”

Jenna couldn’t help herself. She laughed. “How about impossible? Does that work a little better for you?”

“I think I prefer nefarious. More sophisticated.”

Jenna snorted.

“So are we agreed?”

“You make the motel sound so appealing.” Jenna shrugged. “I’m not making you drive around an extra hour to take me to town. If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.” Gard took in the circles under Jenna’s eyes, the pallor that went deeper than the natural hue of her skin, the tightness around her eyes that spoke of pain, both physical and something beyond. For just an instant, she saw Jenna asleep in her bed, secure in the circle of her arms, and knew she’d lied.

When it came to Jenna Hardy, she wasn’t sure of anything at all.

Chapter Eight

Jenna went back to watching the night as Gard turned off the serpentine country road onto a gravel lane that wound between regiments of towering oaks and lone spruce sentries. The moon flirted in and out behind smoky clouds while ahead of them an apparition rose, Brigadoon-like from the shadows, to consume the horizon. A stately white clapboard house stretched its wings from either side of the main building into darkness, its tall, narrow windows flanked by black shutters like so many thick lashes. Incandescent lanterns on either side of the double front doors cast pale yellow circles onto a columned porch. Not a mansion built to mimic the elegance and gallantry of centuries gone by, but the real thing. A country manor house preserved in all its glory.

“And to think I passed on the Motel 6.” Jenna rapidly revised her earlier assessment of Gard as a simple country vet. Gard hadn’t earned enough tending livestock to buy a place like this. Family money, maybe, or inherited. Definitely a mystery, and when the puzzle came wrapped up in a package like Gard Davis, a fascinating one she itched to unwrap.

Gard pulled the truck around the circular drive and stopped. “The walk is tricky. Wait for me.”

Peering through the windshield, Jenna got the impression of another sizeable building looming behind the house—the barn, she presumed. When Gard opened the door, the night rushed in, carrying the wild scent of the surrounding farmland and woods. A gust of wind singing with the deep rumble of bullfrogs and the high-pitched rustle of insects whipped her hair around her face, and she reached up to brush the errant strands out of her eyes. She could almost believe she’d stepped through a time warp, and Gard’s sudden appearance did nothing to dispel the illusion. Her profile etched in starlight, her dark hair blowing, and one hand held out to Jenna, she might have been the lord of the manor handing a lady down from her carriage.