Hart's Harbor

He highly doubted it. In the small, cozy town of Safe Harbor, Wisconsin, very little rated of truly direst need. Gracie Adams just happened to be one of those women for whom everything was an emergency.

He smiled as she approached, and gestured lightly in the direction of her clipboard. “What is it this time, Gracie?”

She looked him straight in the eye, which surprisingly wasn’t hard for her to do. At six feet two inches tall, Kyle towered over most women and a good many men; but Gracie was tall and lithe, a natural-born model if ever there was one.

New York would love her.

Gracie ought to be a fancy New York runway model, now that he thought about it. She would be a raging success in the city with that hair and that figure.

But Kyle would never be the one to suggest such a thing to her. Gracie possessed a sweet, small-town charm he wouldn’t want to see her lose, much less be the one who pointed her in that direction.

Kyle knew firsthand how dark a big city could feel, what being around a profusion of cynical people could do to a man.

Or a woman.

He wouldn’t wish it on his worst enemy, and definitely not on a small-town sweetheart like the lovely and spirited Gracie Adams.

Kyle smiled at her, and Gracie returned his grin with one of her own contagious smiles. Her expression, however, remained just a little bit suspicious, from Kyle’s perspective. He wondered what she had to be suspicious about.

“What do you need?” he asked again, wondering if he really wanted to hear the answer, and deciding that, whatever the risk, he did want to know what was going on in that pretty head of hers, though he might live to regret it in the long run. “What is it you need me to do for you, Gracie?”

“I think we ought to run off together.”

Kyle’s jaw dropped, and for a moment he did nothing but stare at her, stunned immobile from the top of his head to the tips of his cowboy-booted feet. Even his tongue refused to work, though he tried frantically in that one moment to make a witty comeback. Or at least to say something. Anything.

The moment seemed a lifetime to Kyle, but he knew in reality it had only actually only been the space of a breath. He blinked hard and recovered nearly as fast as he’d frozen, straightening and looking her right in the eye with a wink.

Gracie was obviously trying to unsettle him. Which, he admitted wryly, and only to himself, she had done quite successfully. For that one small moment in time, he’d almost believed her.

Almost.

Not that he was going to give her the satisfaction of knowing she’d yanked the proverbial rug from under him. He had his pride.

“Where do you want to run to?” he asked cryptically. “Paris? London? A tropical island in the Bahamas, perhaps?”

She groaned and shook her head fervently, waving him away with the open palm of her free hand. “Anywhere, as long as it’s not here.”

He chuckled at her candor. “And what is wrong with here?”

“Mmm. Yes, well, let’s just say I want to see the big, wide world before I settle down to small-town insignificance.”

Her tone was teasing, but Kyle sensed the truth behind her words. He reached out an arm and grasped her elbow, half to guide her down the hall, and half to reassure her she wasn’t alone. He took her clipboard and tossed it on a nearby counter. “Believe me, Gracie, you’re not missing anything. Safe Harbor is as good as it gets.”

She looked at him, her gaze wide, and her full lips turned down with just enough stubbornness to hint of a pout. “Don’t be discouraging.”

“Well, it’s true. And you’re avoiding my question. What’s wrong with here, anyway?”

Gracie just stared back at him without answering, her sparkling eyes full of the thoughts she refused to speak aloud.

He stopped and turned in front of her, forcing her to look up at him. “Gracie, why do you want to run away from home?”

The silence was deafening, at least from Kyle’s point of view. He made it a rule to stay out of others’ personal lives, and the one time he’d made an exception, he’d managed to stun his usually chatter-friendly nurse into complete silence.

“I’m afraid I can’t do Paris this afternoon,” he added when she continued to stare at him as if he’d grown a second nose. “I have patients scheduled for this afternoon, and I wouldn’t want to let them down. I’m sure you have patients of your own to attend to. But we can do lunch if you’d like.”

“Lunch?” She still looked dazed, but at least he had her talking.

“Sure. You know, a little food, a cup of strong, hot coffee…we can set every tongue at the Women’s League wagging without even leaving town. Stir up a little gossip, you know?”

She arched an eyebrow, and he chuckled softly at his own joke. “What do you say? Does that sound good to you or not?”

He turned to her side, put a hand to the small of her back and gestured her to the right, down another hallway that led to the rear entrance to the building. He didn’t really want any tongues wagging—not with his name attached to them, anyway. He was staying here in Safe Harbor to lay low for a while, not to become a public spectacle ripe for town gossip.

But for some unexplained reason, he felt obligated to Gracie Adams. Somewhere within the conversation, he had become personally committed to getting that beaming smile back on her lovely face, even at the expense of his own anonymity.

As if summoned by his reflection, her smile returned, illuminating her face like the lighthouse at the end of town. “It has potential.”

“What has potential? The wagging tongues, or the food?”

She pursed her lips, then answered decisively. “Food.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “So what are you in the mood for? What sounds good to you? The Bistro or Harry’s Kitchen?”

He realized as soon as he asked the question how obvious, almost foolish, it sounded. The Bistro was clearly the type of restaurant tantamount to Gracie’s unique style and personality. A real gentleman would not have hesitated. He’d simply have taken her to the classy joint.

“Harry’s,” she said immediately, to Kyle’s surprise. She tugged on his arm so he would face her. “And I’m buying.”

His pride welled up in quick defense. “I was the one who suggested it, Gracie. I’m buying,” he retorted in a vain attempt to salvage what was left of his injured male dignity.

Gracie snorted a laugh and took his arm, pulling him down the hallway. What annoyed him most was that he let her do it.

“Don’t be stubborn, Hart. I’m going to buy you lunch, and you’re going to let me.” The pixieish smile she flashed him let him know without a doubt she’d won this battle.

And she knew it.

“Do you always get what you want?” he asked, holding the door for her as they exited the Safe Harbor Family Practice building where they’d both spent a busy morning helping patients. The sun was shining brightly, and they both donned their sunglasses as they walked.

Gracie shrugged, appearing not to take the least offense at his less than innocent question. “Oh, pretty much.”

She paused and met his gaze, her smile fading into a playful pout that left him wondering what she was really thinking. “Except when it really counts.”

“Leaving Safe Harbor,” he supplied for her, taking a stab in the dark.

She nodded.

Kyle wondered not for the first time why Gracie was so intent on leaving such a charming small town. The town she’d been born and raised in.

He was certainly glad to be in Safe Harbor, and he was especially glad Gracie was here now, with him. Apart from his friends Robert and Wendy McGuire, who’d been fundamental in bringing him to Safe Harbor a couple of months ago, Gracie was one of the few people here with whom he felt genuinely comfortable talking, at least beyond exchanging simple, civil niceties.