It was amazing to him, and oddly charming. Even alone and at work she kept things tidy.

Moe bumped her leg with his snout, then gathered himself to leap. Recognizing the signal now, Malory stuck out a hand. “No jumping,” she ordered and had Moe quivering in his desire to obey.

As a reward she gave him a congratulatory pat on the head. “I don’t have any—”

“Don’t say it,” Flynn warned. “Don’t say any food words. He loses his head. Come on, it’s great out.” He caught Malory’s hand in his. “We’ll go for a walk.”

“I’m working. Why aren’t you?”

“Because it’s after six, and I like to pretend I have a life outside of the newspaper.”

“After six?” She glanced down at her watch, remembered she hadn’t put it on that morning. It was just another sign that the efficient train of her life had jumped its tracks. “I didn’t realize it was so late.”

“Which is why you need to go for a walk. Fresh air and exercise.”

“Maybe, but I can’t go out like this.”

“Why not?”

“I’m in my pajamas.”

“They don’t look like pajamas.”

“Well, they are, and I’m not going out in them, and with my hair all horrible and no makeup on.”

“There’s no dress code for walking the dog.” Still, he was a man who had a mother and a sister, and he knew the rules. “But if you want to change, we’ll wait.”

HE’D dealt with enough women to know the wait could be anywhere from ten minutes to the rest of his life. Since he’d learned to think of the female grooming process as a kind of ritual, he didn’t mind. It gave him a chance to sit out on the patio, with Moe flopped over his feet, and scribble ideas for articles in his notebook. In his opinion, time was only wasted if you didn’t do something with it. If the something was staring off into space and letting the mind drift on whatever current was the strongest at that moment, that was fine.

But since that current was how he might get his hands on Malory again, he figured it would be more productive all around to channel his energies into work.

Since Brad was coming back to the Valley, the Dispatch would need a solid feature on him, on the Vanes, on HomeMakers. The history of the family and their business, the face of that business in today’s economic climate, and any plans for the future.

He would handle that one himself, and combine his professional and personal interests. Just as he was doing with Malory. So he began to note down various aspects that described her.

“Blond, brainy, beautiful” headed his list.

“Hey, it’s a start,” he said to Moe. “She was picked for a reason, and the reason has to have something to do with who or what she is. Or isn’t.”

Organized. Arty.

He had never met anyone who managed to be both.

Single. Unemployed.

Huh. Maybe they should do an article on twenty- and thirtysomething singles in the Valley. The dating scene in small-town USA. If he gave that to Rhoda, she might start speaking to him again.

He glanced up when he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye, and watched Malory walk to the patio door. It hadn’t taken her as long to transform herself as he’d figured it would.

He got to his feet, hooking a hand in Moe’s collar before the dog could leap on Malory. “You look great. Smell even better.”

“And I’d like to keep it that way.” She leaned down, tapped a finger lightly on Moe’s nose. “So, no jumping.”

“Why don’t we take a drive down to the river? Then he can run around like crazy.”

SHE had to give him points. He’d managed to turn walking the dog into a date and had done it smoothly. So smoothly, she didn’t realize she was on a date until they were sitting on a blanket by the river eating fried chicken while Moe raced around barking hopefully at squirrels.

But it was hard to complain when the air was cool and fresh, and the light softening as the sun sank lower in the west. When it dropped beneath those peaks, everything would go soft and gray and it would be cooler yet. She would need the light jacket she’d brought along—at least she would if they stayed to watch the stars come out.

And how long had it been since she’d watched the stars come out?

Now that she was here, she wondered if the enforced hibernation, however brief, had accomplished anything more than creating a logjam in her mind.

She wasn’t an isolationist. She needed contact with people. Conversations, stimuli, sound and movement. And realizing that only made her understand how much she needed to be part of the workforce again.

If she grabbed the million dollars at the end of this strange rainbow, she would still need to work. Just for the day-to-day energy.

“I have to admit, I’m glad you got me out.”

“You’re not a cave dweller.” He dug in the bucket for another drumstick when she frowned at him. “You’re a social animal. Take Dana, she’s more cave dweller than social animal. If you left her alone, she’d be perfectly happy holed up with mountains of books and a vat of coffee. At least for a few weeks. Then she’d need to come up for air. Me, I’d go nuts after a day or two. I need the charge. So do you.”

“You’re right. And I’m not sure how I feel about you figuring that out so soon.”

“Soon’s relative. I’ve spent, oh, about a year thinking about you in the past week. Given time and energy ratios. It’s been a while since I’ve given that much thought to a woman, in case you’re wondering.”

“I don’t know what I’m wondering. Yes, I do,” she corrected. “Why haven’t you brought up the key, or asked me what I’m doing about finding it?”

“Because you’ve had enough of that for now. If you’d wanted to get into it, you’d have brought it up. You’re not shy.”

“You’re right. Why did you bring me out here, away from town?”

“It’s quiet. Nice view. Moe likes it. There’s the slim chance I can get you naked on this blanket—”

“Try slim to none.”

“Slim’s enough to keep me going.” He dipped a plastic fork into the fast-food potato salad. “And I wanted to see if Brad’s moving in yet.” He looked across the ribbon of water to the rambling two-story frame house on the opposite bank. “Doesn’t look like it.”