Relief flooded through him. Thankfully, she wasn't going to press the issue.

"Look, Harding, the whole town must be in here for lunch today," Alina exclaimed, obviously pleased by that tidbit of information.

Keir wasn't so sure how he felt. he looked around at the booths of the eating establishment and indeed, there were many familiar faces staring wide-eyed back at him, waving him--and Alina--inside the door with eager grins.

Feral grins, he thought caustically, at least on somce of the older women he knew from visiting the cafe. They'd had their matchmaking eyes on him ever since he'd arrived in RhyDin.

In Keir's mind, and in his newly unattached state, there wasn't a thing in this world more daunting than a group of determined, small-town ladies wanting to hitch a man up to the marriage wagon, and no amount of objection made a difference in their minds or in their plans. He had protested, as politely but loudly as possible, for what little good that did him.

He was a reasonably young, and reasonably--ahem--handsome, single man in a small town with an abundance of young, single women. As far as the self-appointed town matchmakers were concerned, he was fair game. No amount of denial on his part would make them seee the light.

The only light the older women in RhyDin wanted to see was candles at the end of a sanctuary aisle with a white wedding runner leading right up to it. And him in a tux, smack-dab in the middle of the whole picture.

He could see the news on the front page of the DOckside News Reports already--Wedding Bells ahead for Cafe owner Keir and employee Alina. It almost sounded like a soap opera. He slid a look at Alina, but she'd aldready headed off towards the first table to greet some of her friends. She was grasping hands and hugging necks and kissing cheeks and being her sweet, charming self.

What man wouldn't be proud to walk into a restaurant with a woman like Alina Marlow on his arm?

He smiled in spite of himself. Alina was animated and pretty, the perfect woman to charm a bitter widower's heart. It was a compliment to him that they considered him dating material for her.

But the RhyDin matchmakers would have to look elsewhere to pair Alina Marlow up.

True, a man would be foolish to not want a woman like Alina in his life and in his heart. But Keir wasn't any man. He didn't have a heart left to give.

She was, he realized, heartache peeling back as fresh as if it were just yesterday and not over a year and half ago, certainly not anything like his wife, Becky neither in looks nor in personality.

Becky had not even come up to Keir's shoulder, and hand long blonde hair and rosy cheeks. She'd been quiet, though not shy, perferring to think things through before she spoke, and then she would speak slowly and clamly, even when things were in chaos.

Though Becky had cheerfully held a job to help Keir get his cafe on it's feet, her true passion in life was making a home, baking cookies, sweing gingham curtains and refinishing antique furniture. The happiest day of her life was the day she'd brought their new daughter home from the hospital. He knew she had dreams of playgrounds and PTA meetings.

But that was not to be. Keir grit his teeth until he could feel the pulse in his jaw. A drunk driver had taken all that away from her--from them. Keir had wantede to give them so much. What else had he been working so hard for?

But his window of opportunity had been taken from him before he'd even had the opportunity to give them a tenth of that they deserved. One man's bad decision had robbed him of a lifetime with his wife adn daughter.

So while Keir had no doubt it was a compliment to him that the older women staring so openly at him considered him dating material for a young woman like Alina, they'd really have to look elsewhere.

WIth a grimace, he shifted his gaze--and his attention--back to ALina, who continued to glide from table to table, catching up with the latest news and gossip from old friends.

Alina caught Keir's tolerant gaze for a moment, then turned to the next table, glad Keir was so easygoing about her taking a few minutes with her friends. She especially wanted to have a moment to chat with Constance Laughlin before rejoining her handsome lunch partner. She wouldn't say she was avoiding Keir exactly, but the space to catch her breath was doing her a bit of good.

"Constance. I didn't know you frequented this place," Alina said, leaning down to give the dear middle-aged woman a hug and a kiss on her cheek.

Constance flashed her the same wide-eyed, guilty gaze of a child caught with ehr hand stuck squarely in the middle of a cookie jar. Dual slashes of pink flushed high on her prominent cheekbones, and she shook her sleek, bob-cut black hair in immediate denial.

Alina had been half-prepared to be the one to feild the question about her handsome male lunch companion, the topic at nearly every other table she'd visited.

But Constance hadn't even appeared to notice. At least not yet. Which could only mean something else was going on. Something bigger. She lifted her head and scanned the small restaurant, more than a little curious what that something could be, but nothing looked out of the ordinary, except perhaps the sparkling eyes of Keir Harding. He winked and smiled at her, and her heart missed a beat, then raced like mad to make up for it.

Alina scowled. The man was far too handsome for his own good. ANd wahat was worse, he looked as if he knew something she didn't, something that was amusing him greatly. For some reason, that annoyed her. And of course, he knew it.

Pursing his lips agaisnt his smile, Keir briefly nodded his head in the direction of the front counter, then slid into a nearest booth. Again he made the merest nod, then punctuated his gesture with another friendly wink.

Frowning, she turned to see what harding found so humorous, and spotted Corlanthis, the O.O.'s owner, in a muted, heads-down conversation with none other than Nathan Taylor, the new resident mystery man. He had appeared out of nowhere one day, but had been regularly spending weekends in the small town.

Constance's guilty countenance suddenly made perfect, and very romantic, sense. Alina felt her heart whirl and turn all aflutter as she turned back to her friend, placing her knuckles on the table between them and leaning in with a conspiratorial air.

"Constance Laughlin," Alina whispered through her teeth, though never losing her smile, "did you have something you wanted to tell me?"

Constance batted her lips and swallowed hard, but the only thing she uttered was a squeak.

"You wouldn't be here with Nathan, now would you, dear?"

Constance's eyes widened and her hands flared up in denial, but after a moment, she sighed and leaned back in her seat, clearly resigned to the inevitable.

Alina laughed, her gaze straying to Keir for a moment before looking back at her friend. "You know as well as I do you're practically announcing your engagement to the man just by being seen here with him. You know how the gossip mill in this town works. That Marc Franco certainly gets around, Constance!"

Constance's face fell, and Alina slid in beside her in the booth, putting her arm around her dear friend and giving her a hug, feeling instantly contrite for her words. "You know I'm just joking with you, hon. No one cares if you want to have lunch with Nathan, and it's nobody's business but yours, anyway."

Constance nodded, but there were ten years in her eyes. "I know, I just--" Her voice cracked and she fell silent.

"Nobody's rushing you," Alina assured her, feeling a surge of almost matriarchal tenderness that was at odds with their varying ages. "Besides, I'm definately playing the trump card on today's lunch hour."

She gestured toward the booth where Keir Harding was lounging, watching them both with an amused gaze. "Nathan Taylor may be a good-ooking man, but why don't you take a gander at my lunch date? Talk about setting the tongues wagging..."

"What did we just get?" Alina eyed the platter set before her, casting a critical gaze to Keir as well. He was practically drooling over his omelette.

"A grilled cheese omelette," he managed to say with a straight face.

Alina made a face after leaning down to take a whiff. "Then what's that smell?"

"Pickles." Alina made a face and Keir laughed. He knew he should have warned her when he'd ordered his usual and she'd asked for the same, but he wanted to see her reaction. "You don't like pickles?"

"Not on an omelette! I expected-- I don't know. Not this."

Keir laughed and portioned himself a piece. "Don't knock it til you try it, 'Lina."

"This seems like such a boy-next-door kind of food. You're practically a chef! I expected more, that's all."

"When you cook all the time, you learn to experiment." Keir shrugged and took another bite. "Come on, try it! I'm serious, it's not bad. I usually eat this every morning. If I've survived eating it this long, it won't kill you to try a bite."

Alina cut off a piece and stared at it on her fork. Sparkling eyes shifted to Keir with a grin. After chewing the bite, she opened her mouth to speak. But someone cut her off.

"More than survived, I'd say," came a sultry voice from behind Alina's left shoulder. "Looks to me like you've thrived, big guy."

Keir clamped his jaw closed, Alina thought to keep from saying something he'd regret. She couldn't miss the look of pure panic that flashed through his gaze before his eyes glazed over.

Alina turned to the newcomer, whom she knew well from their year and a half stay in Rhydin. ALina recognized her even before turning merely from the sappy sweet sound of her voice. "Chelsea Hart. What brings you into O.O.?"

"As if you didn't know." Chelsea gave Keir a long, sliding look that made the man blush.

Alina rolled her eyes. She'd never gotten along particularly well with Chelsea whenever she came to the cafe. She had little tolerance for any woman who spent more time combing her shoulder-length brown hair and applying make-up to accentuate her fine bones and delicate features than she did cultivating her friendships.

Chelsea was one of those women who'd matured early, and had always caught the eyes of the boys and she'd known it. She knew it now. Always looking after her own self-interests, Chelsea could only be depended on to think of herself and what she wanted.

Now was not an exception; only now, Chelsea had apparently decided she wanted Keir. ALina actually felt sorry for the poor man.

"What're you doing here with Ali, Mr. Harding?" Chelsea purred, hovering over Keir so that he squirmed back in the booth to escape her.

"Begging your pardon?" he asked, flashing a bewildered and at the same time beseeching look at Alina. It was clear he had no idea what was going on.

"Oh, nevermind," Chelsea snapped, typically and easily annoyed and diverted. "It's really too bad I'm already finished eating, or I'd join you," she said, blowing out a huff of breath. "But there's always another day, right?"

"Uhh... right. I guess," Keir agreed, looking to Alina as if he were wishing he didn't have to say anything at all.

"Until then..." ALina suggested, raising her eyebrows and nodding her head toward Chelsea's neglected table of friends.

Chelsea didn't take her eyes off Keir for a moment. She preened and puffed and purred. "I'm looking forward to it."

"Don't tell me, I don't want to know," Alina said immediately as Keir slid upright in his seat again. For emphasis, she put her elbows on the table and placed her palms over her ears.

"It's not my fault," Keir denied heatedly, reaching across to grab Alina's hands away from her ears, pulling them to the tabletop and cradling them in his own. "I have no idea what I ever said to that woman, but for some reason she has it out for me; big time."

"I wish you two the best."

"Please don't say that," he groaned, twisting in his seat as if he were in physical pain. "Alina, you've got to help me get out of this."

"I can't," Alina shook her head sadly and let her fork clatter down against hte plate.

Keir suddenly dropped all pretenses and gazed at her intently. "Why not?"

"Because I'm leaving Rhydin and I'm not coming back."