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  "Anyway, thanks for your help with Henry earlier. He's so accident-prone, it's a wonder I don't have a head of gray hair." Ruth smoothed her dark hair back from her forehead.

  "Any time," Hal answered smoothly. "I hope he's doing okay."

  Ruth paused before answering to point into the distance. Henry ran after Noah, who in turn chased one of the girl cousins. The children ran around and around the baseball field, sending their laughing shouts through the crisp fall air.

  "I'd say he's doing fine," Ruth said wryly. "And I'm off to get a massage."

  Laila oohed. "That sounds nice!"

  "Lots of us are getting one. You should get one, too!" Ruth rolled her head on her shoulders, wincing. "They come right to your room and do it."

  Laila thought of her already rapidly depleting bank account and shrugged. Even with Ian's insurance money to pad her bank account, this trip was costing a fortune. "Maybe some other time. It's pretty expensive."

  "Then just get your man there to give you one," Ruth said, setting off. "He looks like he'd be pretty good at it!"

  When Ruth had passed out of hearing range Hal said, "I could give you a massage, if you want."

  "Hal, that's not part of the package." Laila headed toward the small bridge spanning a chuckling stream. In the summer time, there'd be ducks. Today only the water rippled through the grass.

  "No, I mean it." Hal followed her over the charming log bridge and along the trail through a small patch of woods. "A real massage. That's what I'm going to school for."

  That stopped her. "Really? But your resumé said you had degrees in business and accounting."

  A cloud passed over his face. "I don't do that any more."

  The trail was still clear of leaves, most of which still clung to the trees in brilliant shades of orange, red and gold. It wouldn't be long before they fell and left the trees bare and the path covered , but for now Laila walked with Hal and felt as though they might be the only two people around for miles.

  "Why not?" she asked eventually, when several minutes had passed with only the sound of their feet crunching on the gravel.

  "I had my own business. Kessler, Kessler and Bower." A note of bitter pride crept into Hal's voice. "We were voted most successful new business our first year out. We did really well for five years."

  "And then?" Laila prompted.

  Hal's smile was forced. "Kessler and Bower ran off to the Bahamas and filed for divorce, taking two-thirds of the business with them."

  Somehow Laila didn't see Hal running away to the Bahamas. "Your wife?"

  "Ex-wife," he corrected. "And ex-partner. John and I had known each other for fifteen years."

  "Ouch." Laila pulled her coat closer around her neck. "Hal, that's terrible. I'm sorry."

  "Yeah, me, too." He kicked a pile of leaves that had accumulated. "To make it worse, they sued me for my third of the practice. They won."

  "And that's why you're working for LoveMatch." Suddenly it all clicked together. "But you're going to school, too?"

  "Massage Therapy and Healing Touch." Hal stretched out his hands and wiggled the fingers. "I figured that making people feel better made more sense than just making them feel richer."

  "I'm impressed."

  He looked sideways at her. "Yeah?"

  Laila nodded and slipped her hand into his, even though there was nobody around to see them. "Yeah."

  Once again, dinner was riotous. It was a good thing the Alsters had reserved the private dining room for the entire week. Hal couldn't imagine this group eating with the rest of Bramblewood's guests. Dessert was only now being served and the clock said nearly eight o'clock.

  He and Laila were seated across from each other. Every so often she'd break off whatever she was doing and look at him. Hal was always looking back.

  "Can't you take your eyes off him for just one second and talk to your own mother?" Laila's mother Irene teased her daughter.

  Laila blushed. "Oh, Ma."

  Irene gave Laila a squeeze around the shoulders. "Don't worry about it, doll. He's a catch."

  Seeing them so close together, Hal saw how much Laila resembled her mother. They both had the same sleek, dark hair, though Irene's was shot through with strands of silver. The same mouth and chin. It was easy to see what Laila would look like in thirty years or so. Hal wished he'd have the opportunity.

  "It's such a shame you had to leave the ring at the jeweler's to be refitted," Irene went on. She grabbed up Laila's hand and rubbed the bare finger. "It just doesn't seem the same without a ring on the finger."

  "No, it sure doesn't," Laila said with a glance at Hal.

  Remembering earlier how Laila had injected conflict into the conversation to set up the break up, Hal thought this might be a good time to do a little more. "If Laila didn't have such fat fingers, the ring would've fit perfectly."

  Laila's amused expression turned fierce. "Fat fingers?"

  Irene clucked, patting Laila's hand. "Dear, I'm sure David didn't mean it the way it sounded."

  "Sure I did," Hal said cheerfully. "They're like little sausages. Plump little sausages."

  Laila snatched her hand out of her mother's grip and looked at it, her expression appalled. "They are not!"

  "Laila, I think David's teasing you." Irene frowned. "At least, I hope he's teasing."

  Hal leaned across as though he had a secret to tell Irene. "I keep telling her she'd better quit eating so much or she's never going to fit into her wedding dress." He laughed at his own witticism. "I mean, just because we're going on a honeymoon cruise is no excuse to start looking like a whale!"

  Now Irene's frown deepened. She looked at Laila's scowling face and back to Hal. "David, Laila has a beautiful figure. How can you say she's fat?"

  "Oh, it's all right, Mrs. Alster. Laila knows I like my women plump. Makes it easier to catch 'em when they try to run away!"

  "And I can't imagine why they'd try," Irene said dryly. She kissed Laila's cheek. "I'm going to talk to your bubbe, Laila. We'll see you later?"

  Laila's reply was terse. "Yes. I think so."

  "Good." Irene patted Laila's shoulder, gave Hal a dubious glance, and left her seat.

  When the server placed Laila's thick slice of chocolate cake in front of her, she didn't pick up her fork to eat. Hal dove into his and demolished it in several bites. Curiously, he watched as Laila just sat and stared.

  "Aren't you going to eat that?" he asked. Silently, she shook her head no. "Mind if I have it?"

  Again, she didn't speak, but indicated with her hand that he was to go ahead. He did. It was delicious.

  "Ahhh." He sighed, patting his stomach, which would definitely suffer for this week's indulgences. He'd have to hit the gym pretty hard for the next month. "That was great."

  "Glad you enjoyed it." In the midst of the chaos broiling all around them, Laila's answer was dangerously soft. In fact, he almost missed it.

  Laila's brother, Eli, slipped into the chair her mother had vacated. "Thanks again for your help this afternoon with Henry. He's always getting banged up."

  "Better than getting knocked up, right, Lil?" Hal reached across the table to poke her arm good-humoredly. He was beginning to enjoy playing the role Laila had assigned him. He'd always wanted to try out for a part in a play.

  "David," Laila said through gritted teeth. Her smile was strained. "I don't think--"

  "Laila?" Elijah had turned to look at her, brow furrowed. "You okay?"

  "Fine," Laila answered.

  Her brother didn't seem convinced.

  "Hey, you know women," Hal said. "Always got a bug up their bloomers about something."

  Eli just stared at him before nodding slowly. He gave his sister another thoughtful glance. "Yeah. Whatever. Laila?"

  "I'm fine," she told him. "Just tired. I think I'll head back to the room early."

  "Great idea!" Hal said. He pushed back from the table. "You know you could always use some extra beauty sleep. I mean, hey, I could pack my wardro