She looked over her shoulder at her husband. “That’s my birthday. We’ll be here.”

Charlie toasted her with his beer bottle. “And I’ll be singing just for you, darlin’.”

She laughed, but her cheeks turned pink. “I’ll hold you to it.” Her husband leaned forward to whisper in her ear, and Charlie swiveled back around as Rita brought his salad. From ranching to the restaurant business and part-time lounge singer to law enforcement. Life was a hell of a ride.

“How are the boys?” he asked Rita.

She set down his silverware and dish of ranch dressing. “They’re crazy about the toy trucks you gave them. Thanks, honey.”

“No problem.” He knew her ex rarely sent money, and his nephews had more toys than they could ever use. When he’d mentioned the waitress to Rory and Emily, his brothers’ wives, their youngest kids had gone through their toy chests.

“You bat those pretty eyes at the guys sitting at the other end of the bar, should double your tips,” he suggested to Rita.

The touch of her hand on his shoulder was fleeting, her voice soft in his ear. “Enjoy your salad.”

A few moments later, after she’d brought the rest of his meal and he’d devoured half the sandwich while he’d mulled over his workday, a burst of laughter distracted him. Rita had followed his suggestion and was talking to the construction workers.

She’d be okay. This was a respectable bar, and she knew how to take care of herself.

Charlie turned back to his food, but eating alone had lost its appeal. Everyone in town knew him, and he knew most of them. His older brothers were his closest friends. He liked their wives, adored their children and was welcome anytime. It was a welcome he was careful not to wear out.

The sound of Rita’s laughter reminded him of the woman he’d met earlier, Robin Marlowe, even though the two appeared to be polar opposites. If Dr. Marlowe had found him attractive, she’d hidden it well. If she hadn’t rushed off, he might have invited her to dinner just to see her reaction.

Maybe he’d have to buy himself a dog, one that would need vaccinations at the local clinic.

Robin was unpacking the last of her aunt’s dishes and putting them into the kitchen cupboard when a knock at the back door nearly caused her to drop a dinner plate adorned with fat pink roses. She set it carefully down on the counter and ran a hand through her short hair. She’d only met two people so far, her boss and the sheriff. This was a small town, not Chicago, so perhaps one of them had come by to check on her.

Nerves fluttered in her chest. She was almost relieved when she peeked through the window and saw an elderly couple standing on the side porch. They looked harmless.

Robin flipped the lock and opened the door. The woman, a little bird of a thing with fluffy white hair and wire-rimmed glasses, was holding a pie with a flaky, golden crust. The man behind her wore coveralls and a Broncos baseball cap. His scraggly gray hair needed trimming.

“I’m Mae Simms and this is my husband, Ed,” the woman said quickly. “We don’t mean to intrude, but we wanted to say hello and to give you this.” She thrust the pie into Robin’s hands. “Welcome to Waterloo.”

Her offering smelled fantastic. As Robin’s stomach growled softly, she realized that she hadn’t eaten in hours.

“Thank you,” she said. Would they think her unfriendly if she didn’t invite them in? She had so much to do, and she was tired. “I’m Robin. I was just unpacking.”

“Oh, we know who you are, honey,” the woman replied. “We live right next door in the blue house. You’re renting this place from us.”

“Ah.” Robin wasn’t sure what else to say. Their visit was the type of gesture her aunt would have made under similar circumstances. The thought warmed her. Balancing the pie, she nudged the door open wider with her elbow. “Would you like to come in? I’ve already unpacked my coffeemaker and some mugs. I’m sure I could find the coffee.”

“Oh, no, dear.” Mae was already backing away. She nudged Ed, who hadn’t said a word. “You have things to do, I’m sure, and we’re going for our walk.” Reaching into the pocket of the purple nylon jacket she wore with matching pants, she pulled out a folded paper.

“Here’s our phone number, just in case.” She set it lightly on top of the pie. “If there’s anything you need, give us a call.”

Robin raised up the pan she was holding. The bottom was still warm. “Thank you again. I can’t wait to sample this.”

“She’s won lots of ribbons at the fair.” Ed’s voice sounded rusty, as though he didn’t use it much. “They cover most of one wall in the dining room.”

“Never mind that,” Mae scolded as she herded him off the porch like a border collie with a not-too-bright sheep. “Bye, now,” she called back over her shoulder.

“Bye.” Robin glanced past them at the neat blue house next door, separated from hers by a freshly painted white picket fence. The lots on this street were big, so the older, mostly small houses weren’t jammed close together.