“Yes, I asked him to help set up the fall festival and he agreed.” She rolled her eyes. “It’s all very tantalizing. Are people still so suspicious of him that they’re paying attention to his every conversation? Because we spoke at a public place in broad daylight. I can’t imagine that makes for very interesting gossip.”

Cocking his head to the side, Tanner regarded her thoughtfully. “Actually, I heard about it when I ran into Shane McIntyre at the gas station this morning, and I’m pretty sure his interest was in you, not Sloan-but your wildly defensive attitude is intriguing.”

“Oh.” She looked down, not sure what to say. Maybe it would be better to keep your mouth shut for a change of pace.

“It’s funny,” Tanner added, “but when you got angry about people being ‘suspicious’ of him, you sounded almost as overprotective as you accuse Dad of being.”

Could Gabe use someone to speak up in his defense? Her parents had tried to shield her young ears from the initial gossip, so other than being peripherally aware of the Templetons’ deaths and Gabe’s rumored connection, Arianne was vague on details. Who had Gabe been friends with when he was in high school? Had anyone stuck up for him? Had Mr. Sloan tried to shield his only child?

“Ari?”

“Sorry, not a morning person.” She pointed toward the back office. “Better bring me some of that coffee, too.”

He gave her a knowing, lopsided grin. “Was that your way of dismissing me?”

“I always said you were the smart brother.”

“What’s that make me?” David asked, once the copper bell above the door had heralded his arrival. “The good-looking one?”

Tanner snorted. “Out of sympathy for your rough night, I won’t even point out how ridiculous that statement is.”

As their older sibling got closer, Arianne saw just how uncharacteristically rumpled he was. David had tucked his wrinkled shirt into khaki slacks but had forgotten his belt. His brown hair, while still shorter than Tanner’s, had outgrown its normal cut and there were dark circles under his Waide-blue eyes. But even the lines of fatigue on his face couldn’t erase his obvious joy at being a parent.

“Got new pictures of my niece?” Arianne asked. It had become their morning ritual.

He tossed her his cell phone, which she caught one-handed. “Took one right before I left. She looked…Angelic is the only word for it.”

Studying the photo on the small screen, Arianne had to agree. Still, she laughed at his assessment. “Angelic? That would be the same child who cried all night?”

“Not her fault,” the proud papa insisted. “She’s cutting her first teeth. We tried everything mentioned in Rach’s parenting books, but none of the solutions worked for very long.”

“You want me to stop by this afternoon?” Arianne offered. “Give Rachel a break, or at least a hand?”

“Thank you.” David tousled her hair affectionately. “For that, I’m willing to overlook that you called this bonehead ‘the smart brother.’”

“Don’t take that personally,” Tanner said. “She was only sucking up to me to distract me from asking about Gabe Sloan.”

“Gabe Sloan?” David narrowed his eyes at Arianne. “What’s going on with you and Sloan?”

“Nothing! As I already explained to Tanner.”

The two men exchanged irritatingly brotherly glances. Then, in unison, they swiveled their gazes back to her.

She sighed in exasperation. “All right, you caught me. Last week, I sold him some soaker hose, and yesterday he said he’d help Quinn and Lilah with their festival preparations.”

And, in between, she also might have stalked him at a barbecue house, but why bore her brothers with every minuscule detail of her personal life? The gist was sufficient.

Tanner held up his hands in defeat. “Obviously Shane read too much into yesterday’s encounter. He said that Sloan seemed anxious to talk to you and you looked-”

The door on the far side of the store creaked open, and their father smiled at them, counteracting his gruff tone when he demanded, “Am I paying the three of you to stand around yakking?”

“Sorry, Dad,” Tanner said cheerfully. “We got preoccupied quizzing Ari about who she’s dating.”

Zachariah Waide zeroed in on his daughter. “You’re seeing someone?”

“You’d better sleep with one eye open,” she muttered in Tanner’s direction.

He laughed. “Luckily Lilah’s a light sleeper. She’ll protect me.”

Arianne walked around the edge of the counter. “I am going to get my coffee now. Ya’ll don’t need me for this conversation. No one believes me anyway.”

The bell over the entrance rang again, signaling their first customer of the day, and Arianne glanced reflexively in that direction, assuming that the newcomer would permanently end discussion of her nonexistent love life. Unfortunately, the person who’d just stepped in was Shane McIntyre. She’d always considered him a buddy, like a third brother, and had enjoyed weekend fishing with him and accompanying him to random events like bowling tournaments and Coach Burton’s retirement dinner last spring. But those hadn’t been dates.

Had they?

Instead of making conversation with any of the Waide men watching, Shane was looking at her as if she were the only one in the room.

Arianne cleared her throat and forced a smile. “Morning, Shane. I was just about to take a coffee break, but I’m sure David would be happy to help you find anything you need.”

She resumed her retreat, but didn’t get very far.

“Actually, Arianne, I came to talk to you. If you have a minute?”

She stifled a prickle of foreboding. Tanner’s erroneous assertion that Shane was interested in her had merely kicked her imagination into overdrive. “Sure, come on back.”

Shane followed, waiting until they’d passed into the interior hallway before he said, “Thanks. I didn’t really want to have this talk in front of your brothers and dad.”

“What talk is that?” With a sidelong glance, Arianne tried to assess the expression on his ruddy face. Shane was handsome in a boyish kind of way, but she’d never been attracted to him.

“Did Tanner happen to mention we ran into each other this morning?”

She nodded, stopping at the recessed alcove where they kept the coffeemaker. “Sugar? Cream?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Just black, thanks. I saw you yesterday, as I was leaving the diner after breakfast. Chatting with Gabriel Sloan.”

“Yeah. He wanted to discuss the fall festival.”

She reexperienced the triumphant surprise she’d felt when Gabe agreed to help with the fair and the stab of unexpected disappointment when he’d admitted that he’d be leaving Mistletoe soon after. Her instinct had been to protest that leaving was a mistake, but how could she? She’d been the one to question his being here in the first place! If she wanted to make an argument for his staying, she’d have to be patient and bide her time. She’d ended their conversation by promising to be in touch soon. There’d been a smirk in his voice when he replied, “I don’t doubt it.”

“The fall festival?” Shane echoed.

Arianne handed him his coffee and poured a second cup. “That’s right. Why, what did you think?” She wasn’t sure it was a good idea, but she was curious to view the encounter through someone else’s eyes. What had Shane seen that would make enough of an impression for him to tattle to her big brother?

“I…I don’t know. My sister, Ruthie-you remember her?-she lives in South Carolina now, but back in the day, she was friends with Shay Ortz.”

Shay Ortz Templeton.

“Sloan makes me wary,” he admitted. “His reputation with women…”

“What reputation?” Arianne asked. “The man barely dates.”

He gave her a fond smile that somehow set her teeth on edge. “Just because he’s not buying ladies nice dinners doesn’t mean he doesn’t get around. I heard kitchen tile wasn’t all he laid for Nicole Jones. Tara Hunaker hired him to refinish her basement and likes to giggle to anyone who’ll listen that the room never did get done, but that Gabriel was worth every penny.”

Arianne’s stomach lurched. “Tara Hunaker is a floozy reputed to have hit on her husband’s attorney in the middle of her divorce proceedings. I’m not putting a lot of stock in what she has to say about Gabe. And I don’t see what any of this has to do with me.”

Shane shoved his free hand through his hair. “Nothing, really. Except that after I talked to Tanner this morning, I realized that I’d sounded…jealous.”

Some of the starch went out of her spine. “So did you come over here to set the record straight?” she asked hopefully. “Make sure Tanner didn’t give me the wrong idea?”

“No.” Shane swallowed, suddenly making Arianne wish she could add a belt of Irish whiskey to her coffee. “I came because I forced myself to admit I was jealous. Irrationally so-I’m not suggesting there’s anything between you and Sloan. Even if he’s sleeping with all his female clients-”

“Like Quinn?” Arianne asked, her tone ice. “Or Barb Echols?”

“Well, n-no.” Shane’s complexion flushed dark red as he tried to regroup. “Obviously not them. They’re decent women. Like you! You’re the one I wanted to talk about, not him. Arianne, I think…I think there could be something special between us.”

Arianne had seen “special.” She witnessed it firsthand every day. Even after all these years, her parents’ faces still lit up when they saw each other across a room. Tanner had given up life in Atlanta and came home to Mistletoe because he’d never been able to forget Lilah Baum. And David had experienced love at first sight when he met Rachel, the wife for whom he would gladly move heaven and earth.

“Shane.” She kept her voice gentle, biting her tongue against every bad cliché she’d ever heard. What was she supposed to do, tell him she treasured his friendship? That she loved him like a brother?