Mae was studying Robin through her thick lenses. “Long day, huh? Ed was up early, and he saw you leave this morning. You look washed-out. A little blusher would give your cheeks some color.”

“Is that so?” Robin managed, feeling slightly overwhelmed. She didn’t bother to explain that she never wore makeup anymore. Mae might ask why not. Her own bright cheeks were a testament to the power of cosmetics.

“You know a bagel isn’t enough breakfast, if that’s the only thing you had,” Mae went on in a scolding tone. She held out the plate she’d been carrying. “Here’s some chicken salad for your dinner. I made extra. You shouldn’t eat a heavy meal too close to your bedtime.”

Robin looked down at the nicely arranged slices of chicken breast and tomato on a bed of crisp lettuce. A little cup of dressing was tucked next to a hardboiled egg cut in wedges and sprinkled lightly with paprika.

Her mouth began to water. Lunch had been half a peanut butter sandwich eaten on the run. How could she accept the salad and then tell her obviously well-intentioned neighbor to butt out?

“Thank you.” Robin caved in without a struggle. “It looks wonderful.” She could always set boundaries later.

“Don’t worry about returning the plate,” Mae said as she walked away. “There’s no hurry. And don’t stay up too late. You need your rest so you don’t get sick.”

Robin was never sick, but she made a mental note to close the front curtains later, so the light from her television didn’t shine through the window.

By the time she’d finished the salad, a glass of the sun tea she’d made the day before and a piece of leftover garlic bread she’d found in the refrigerator, she felt as if she just might survive. She tidied the kitchen and flopped down on the couch with a sigh. Grabbing the remote, she switched on a TV game show, but she couldn’t concentrate. Instead she went back over her boss’s reaction to the message Robin had relayed from Elmer Babcock.

Doc Harmon had merely shaken his head dismissively. “Don’t worry about it,” he’d said. “The man’s head is like a four-fingered bowling ball, solid as a rock and with too many holes.”

Erline had snorted loudly at his quip, but Robin barely managed a smile.

“It was probably my fault for not warning you,” he’d added with a paternal pat on her shoulder. “We’ll bide our time. Sooner or later the old coot will need you more than you need him.”

At least he hadn’t suggested she not go back.

Now Robin switched channels restlessly and then turned off the TV. Running into the reality of that kind of gender bias hurt more than she would have figured. Especially after the warm welcome she’d received from people like Adam Winchester.

Both he and David, the younger man she thought must be Adam’s son, had seemed genuinely pleased to meet her. They were both rugged, attractive males, something she could appreciate in a totally platonic way. David had even offered to show her around the area when she had time, but she’d been so busy examining her patient, a darling colt with spots like a dalmatian, that she didn’t think she’d even replied. Not that it mattered. She was too old for David to be interested in her. He was just being polite.

She tried to block her mind from thinking about the other brother, the sheriff she’d met before. He was there at the stable when she and Doc arrived, but he’d barely spoken to Robin and he’d left right away.

Not that she’d noticed, of course. Nor had she been disappointed that he hadn’t said goodbye to her, either.

By Friday Robin was actually looking forward to the weekend, even though she loved her job. She’d be on call, which was both exciting and scary.

“You’ve earned a break. Besides, I have paper work to finish on Saturday, so I’ll be here at the clinic most of the day, anyway,” Doc Harmon told her as she was getting ready to leave work. “Go out tonight. Relax, have fun.”

“I’ve got some unpacking left to do.” She pictured the lone box of books sitting in the bedroom.

“Oh, too exciting,” Erline drawled, waving her freshly painted nails to dry them. “How can you stand it?”

Robin ignored her jibe, but Doc Harmon swiveled his head. “And what are you doing this weekend?” he asked the receptionist. “Got a hot date?”

“In this town?” she shot back. “Are you kidding? The men around here are either married or they’re your age. Or both.” She rolled her eyes and fanned herself. “Be still my heart.”

He peered at her over the tops of his glasses while Robin waited expectantly. “Or they’re just too darned picky,” he drawled.

Erline blew a bubble and then she turned her attention to Robin. “My girlfriend Carol and I are going out for dinner and a couple of drinks. Want to come along?”

Robin was about to refuse when Doc spoke up for her. “Good idea. She’ll go.”

Why did everyone she’d met think they had to help run her life? “I have things to do,” she protested.

He raised his eyebrows, his expression stern. “You need to get out, meet people. Bring us more business. Charlie’s Heart is a good place to start.”