Page 6

If possible, Merrill’s blush deepened, and little beads of sweat broke out on the man’s head as the smile on his face grew.

“You’re in for a real treat, Marshal. Polly Dixon makes the best strawberry rhubarb pie in the whole town.

” He laughed, pride evident as his broad chest puffed out.

“Actually, anything she bakes is enough to make your mouth water, as well it should. She owns the bakery just down the street. Sweet Somethings. Can’t miss it. ”

Rafael’s smile widened as he gave him the side-eye. “What’s she thanking you for, Merrill?”

The big man whipped out his handkerchief again and mopped the sweat from his head.

“None of your business,” he said, but there was a teasing tone to his voice as he passed the man on his way to the kitchen.

He returned in moments with plates, forks, napkins and a knife then proceeded to cut them each a slice of pie.

“You’re right. This is the best strawberry rhubarb pie I’ve ever had,” Devlin admitted a short time later as he scraped up the last bit of crust and shoved it in his mouth, the rich, buttery pastry practically melting on his tongue.

“Saw Tresia Morgan leaving your house earlier.” Merrill pushed his plate away and smiled. “Lucy send her over to take care of your daughter?”

“She did.” He grimaced. It seemed that everyone knew everyone else’s business, but what had he expected? Serenity was a small town, so much smaller than Albuquerque, and he reminded himself that’s what he wanted. “What do you know about her?”

“About Tresia?” The man shrugged. “Everything. I’ve known her since we were in school together.

Her folks owned Sullivan’s Emporium, until ol’ Lyle passed.

If they don’t have it, then you don’t need it,” he said, repeating the motto that was on the sign over the store as well as what Paul Jennings had mentioned earlier and laughed.

“But if they don’t have it and you really want it, Tresia will find a way to get it. ”

“I’ve known her about that long, too.” Rafael chimed in.

“Knew her late husband as well.” His smile gentled and Devlin wondered if the man had been in love with her at one time.

“She’s a good woman. Kind. Smart. Generous to a fault.

Big heart.” He collected the plates and silverware and disappeared into the kitchen, though he never stopped talking, his voice drifting into the room from beyond the doorway.

“She’d be perfect to take care of your daughter.

She has a lot of experience with that.” His voice grew louder as he came back into the main room carrying a cup of coffee.

“Took care of her mother when she became ill—Tresia was only thirteen at the time—then took care of Brett, too, before he passed. These past two years, she’s been taking care of her father.

He had a stroke in the middle of the Emporium one afternoon, right in front of her.

” He took his seat but never stopped talking, not even to take a sip of his coffee.

“Lyle passed three months ago. Whole town turned out for his funeral. It was a sad day.”

Rafael finally paused long enough to take a drink and leaned back in his chair, as if lost in memory then suddenly wagged his finger as if he thought of a way to diminish the sadness.

“The one you have to watch out for is Lucy Hart. That sign she has hanging beside her door ain’t just wishful thinkin’. ”

“What do you mean?” He thought back to when he’d met with Lucy Hart earlier in the day.

Standing on her front porch before she’d invited him in and introduced him to her husband, Doctor Ben Hart, he’d noticed several signs, one of which said ‘Doctor,’ but couldn’t recall what the other two signs had said. “What sign?”

Rafael laughed. “The one that reads ‘Matchmaker.’ Our Lucy is real serious about that.” He puffed out his chest. “In fact, it was Lucy who introduced me to my wife, Ventura. Can’t say I’m not happy, either.

Best thing that ever happened to me.” He glanced at Deputy Shotton, grin in place.

“Wasn’t it she who gently steered you toward Polly? ”

The big man blushed at the mention of Polly’s name and once again, beads of sweat popped out on his head.

“I wouldn’t say that exactly.” He turned toward Devlin as he pulled the handkerchief from his pocket and mopped his head.

“Lucy simply asked me to pick up pies for the silent auction she was sponsoring...” His voice drifted off as he studied the handkerchief in his hand then shook his head before an expression came over his face, one of disbelief yet at the same time, acceptance.

“I’ll be damned,” he chuckled. “She did.”

Rafael laughed and slapped his knee, then turned toward Devlin. “You better watch. You might be next.”

Devlin stiffened. He wasn’t interested in finding a wife.

He’d had Hannah, whom he loved very deeply, and yet, he had had a sudden reaction to Mrs. Morgan.

Tresia. Was sending her to him to take care of Avery the first step in Lucy’s plan?

No, that wasn’t possible. They’d just met. “I don’t think so. I’m not interested.”

Merrill laughed. “I wasn’t either. And look at me now.”