get herbs, and before I knew it... I couldn't seem to stop."
"That's what they all say. I'll get your pots and tools."
"Sheriff." It had once been natural to her to repay kindness with kindness. She wanted it to be natural again. "I made some lemonade this morning. Would you like a glass?"
"I'd appreciate it."
All she had to do was remind herself to relax, to be herself. She filled two glasses with ice and poured in the tart lemonade. He was already back when she came out. Something about the way he looked, big and male, standing in the middle of pink and white flowers, gave her a quick little jolt.
Attraction. Even as she recognized the sensation she reminded herself it wasn't anything she could or wanted to feel again.
"I appreciate the pack mule services."
"Welcome." He took the glass, draining half of it while that little jolt became a twitchy dance in her belly.
He lowered the glass. "This is the real thing. Can't think the last time I had fresh lemonade. You're a real find, aren't you?"
"I just like to fuss in the kitchen." She bent, picked up her new garden spade.
"You didn't buy any gloves."
"No, I didn't think of it."
She wanted him to drink his lemonade and scat, Zack thought, but was too polite to say so. Because he knew that, he sat on the little stoop outside the kitchen door, made himself comfortable. "Mind if I sit a minute? It's been a long day. Don't let me stop you from getting started, though. It's pleasant to watch a woman in the garden."
She'd wanted to sit on the stoop, she thought. To sit there in the sunshine and imagine what she would do with the flowers and herbs. Now all she could do was begin.
She started with the pots, reminding herself if she didn't like the results, she could always redo them.
"Did you, um, talk to the man with the dog?"
"Pete?" Zack asked, sipped at his lemonade. "I think we came to an understanding, and peace settles over our little island once more."
There was humor in the way he said it, and a lazy satisfaction as well. It was hard not to appreciate both.
"It must be interesting, being the sheriff here. Knowing everyone."
"It has its moments." She had small hands, he noticed as he watched her work. Quick, clever fingers. She kept her head bent, her eyes averted. Shyness, he decided, coupled with what seemed to him to be a rusty sense of socializing. "A lot of it's refereeing, or dealing with summer people who're vacationing too hard. Mostly it's running herd on about three thousand people. Between me and Ripley it's simple enough."
"Ripley?"
"My sister. She's the other island cop. Todds have been island cops for five generations. That's looking real nice," he said, gesturing toward her work-in-progress with his glass.
"Do you think?" She sat back on her heels. She'd mixed some of everything into the pot, stuck in some of the vinca. It didn't look haphazard as she'd feared it might. It looked cheerful. And so did her face when she lifted it. "It's my first."
"I'd say you've got a knack. Ought to wear a hat, though. Fair skin like yours is going to burn if you stay out long."
"Oh." She rubbed the back of her hand over her nose. "Probably."
"Guess you didn't have a garden in Boston."
"No." She filled the second pot with soil. "I wasn't there very long. It wasn't my place."
"I know what you mean. I've spent some time on the mainland. Never felt home. Your folks still in the Midwest?"
"My parents are dead."
"I'm sorry."
"So am I." She tucked a geranium into the new pot. "Is this conversation, Sheriff, or an inquiry?"
"Conversation." He picked up a plant that was just out of her reach and held it. A cautious woman, he decided. In his experience cautious people usually had a reason. "Any point in me inquiring?"
"I'm not wanted for anything, never been arrested. And I'm not looking for trouble."
"That about covers it." He handed her the plant. "It's a small island, Miz Channing. Mostly friendly. Curiosity comes along with it, though."
"I suppose." She couldn't afford to alienate him, she reminded herself. She couldn't afford to alienate anyone. "Look, I've been traveling for a while now, and I'm tired of it. I came here looking for work and a quiet place to live."
"Looks like you found both." He got to his feet. "I appreciate the lemonade."
"You're welcome."
"That's a pretty job you're doing. You've got a knack for