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"We're not," Uncle Henry said, "I, for one, am unwilling to put that theory to the test any more. I'm quite happy to let it rest."

"It was a good thing I went looking for you this afternoon, Thea. You would have been in worse trouble without me. When Delores still didn't show up after all that time I knew something was wrong. I knew it wouldn't take her so long to decide whether to buy a horse or not. But I can honestly say, it never occurred to me my sister and my boss would start playing detective." She crossed her arms and sighed at the ceiling. "If you two hadn't gone mucking around in things-"

"Greg would be long gone and Frederick Parsons would have gotten away with murder," I finished.

"You don't know that for certain. The police would have caught him. Anyway. I'm surprised at my responsible, mature sister stirring up so much drama."

"Me? I was an innocent bystander"

"You're not. We only wanted you to break up with Jonathan. We didn't anticipate having to solve a murder, too."

"Nobody planned to solve -" The "break up with Jonathan" part hauled me to a stop. Particularly the "we" part. I couldn't be hearing that right, but each person at the table was looking somewhere else, except for Paul. He seemed to have lost the gist of the conversation entirely. What an idiot I'd been. I'd been suckered, set up, and manipulated. Juliet met my frown with defiance.

"Hey now, you have to admit you needed a little push. That break-up was a long time coming."

"A 'little push'?" I shrieked. "Is that what you call all the maneuvering that's been going on? 'Meddling' is a much better word."

"Oh, come on. We've been waiting for months for you to shake loose of Jonathan. All we did was make sure you and Paul met."

"Met? There wasn't one single 'meeting' you people didn't have a hand in, was there? I call that repeatedly throwing us at each other. Did you ever stop to think about what I might want? Or him?" I pointed diagonally across the table at Paul. "Well? Did you?" I turned on Aunt Vi. She leaned away from me. "That's what you meant the day Blackie was stolen when you said things weren't going the way you'd planned, isn't it?" I tried to stare down Uncle Henry, but he was rearranging his flatware. "Did you know about this?" I fired at Paul.

His eyes widened. "No." Then his brows slammed down as he turned to his aunt. "I should have known you were up to something."

She straightened and grumbled, but didn't meet his eyes.

"Now Paul, dear," Aunt Vi said. "Don't you be thinking we didn't have your happiness in mind, too. You've been a bit lonely. Anyone could see that."

I believe the comprehensiveness of the matchmaking conspiracy finally sank in for Paul. It certainly did for me. His narrow gaze took in each person seated at the table. Uncle Henry and Eric exchanged frantic, guilty looks. But Juliet, always confident, rolled her eyes.

"Oh come on," she said, sweeping us all with a disgusted look. "Mission accomplished."

I stared at her, slack-jawed.

"Well, you did give Jonathan the old heave-ho. All we did was a little arranging." She fielded Paul's glare with a sniff and tossed it back. "Step up to the plate, mister. I'm good, but I can only stack the kindling – I can't start the fire. You guys did that yourselves. Don't go blaming us if you've got the hots for each other and don't know what to do next. I'm done holding your hands. Figure it out on your own."

I suddenly developed my own overwhelming interest in the table cloth. Uncle Henry cleared his throat and valiantly changed the subject.

"Would anyone like more tea?" He was so British. I so loved him for it.

"No thank yours" were murmured around the table and chairs pushed back.

"If you'll all excuse me," Delores said, "I'm going to hit the hay." She left for the guest room.

Eric and Juliet moved quickly, gathering plates from the table and taking them to the kitchen where both Aunt Vi and Uncle Henry were bustling around cleaning up.

Yes, I had unfinished business with Paul, but while I contemplated my apology he disappeared. I can't say I wasn't relieved. It would be awkward and embarrassing, and I was less than confident of the outcome. Tomorrow would probably be better. Or the next day.

Who was I trying to kid? I was afraid. He'd passed judgment on me and I was afraid to hear it. My friends and family all knew about what happened between us, they all had expectations, they were all watching and I was afraid…and this pattern was so familiar. And it was time to break it. I went into the kitchen.

"Uncle Henry?" He was putting dishes in the sink and glanced over his shoulder at me. "Uncle Henry, I'd like your help."

"Of course." He wiped his hands on a tea towel and came over to where I was rooted in place. "What do you need?"

I took a deep breath and bit my lip trying to figure out how to start. I met his eyes. He knew. He was smiling. How did he know?

"I want to enter Blackie in a dressage show," I said on a single exhale.

"I'll be more than happy to work with you." His smile broadened.

"I may be terrible at it, you know."

"It doesn't matter. What made you change your mind?"

I shrugged. "I think I understand you have to take a risk sometimes, do something that scares you because the regrets would be worse. Or maybe I've been waiting so long I forgot what I was waiting for."

"You'll do fine. You know I'll be there for you. It won't be all that bad."

"I know that now." I couldn't help grinning. It felt so good. "Besides, what's one more risk for an old veteran risk-taker like me?"

He laughed and hugged me. I hugged him back and over his shoulder I caught Aunt Vi's wink.

"We can take a look at the show schedule tomorrow and make plans. I think you'd best be going now, though." Uncle Henry loosened the grip I had on him. "I believe someone else wants a word."

I looked out the kitchen door in the direction he inclined his head. Paul stood by my car. With my heart thudding, I hugged Uncle Henry again, kissed Aunt Vi goodnight, and walked down the path at a pace considerably slower than the hammering in my chest. As I approached Paul held his hand up. I stopped and bit my lip, bracing for the indignant, and rightful, complaint that was surely coming. He cleared his throat then swallowed before he met my eyes.

"I owe you an apology," he said. "I am very sorry."

Oh. This wasn't what I was expecting, but, on the other hand, I could live with it. "Apology accepted," I said. "I owe you one, too."

He shook his head once. "I was hoping you might give me another chance."

And the surprises kept coming. "I could do that."

"Dinner? Next weekend?"

"Next weekend?"

"Yeah. If you don't have plans."

I shook my head a couple of times then glanced over my shoulder at the house. Although I couldn't see her I knew Aunt Vi was watching.

"I know a nice restaurant in Portland, short taxi-ride from the train station. Nice view of the river."

"Portland?"

He flinched ever so slightly and glanced at the house. "I don't think we'd run into anyone we know there."

I did a quick mental survey of this proposed date: At least a four hour trip each way, plus a couple hours for dinner… didn't sound like a day trip to me. More like an overnighter. I sucked in my lower lip to hold down a smile. It kind of worked. "That's a long trip, just for dinner."

One shoulder rose slightly and he had the grace to break eye contact.

"How about Bellingham?" I asked. His gaze jumped to mine and held. "It's only a two hour drive, and I don't know anybody in Bellingham. Do you?"

"A couple people. Wouldn't matter." His eyes smiled first, then his mouth. He opened my car door. "Maybe we can do Portland another time."

I pulled the car keys out of my purse and slid behind the wheel.

"Maybe we can," I said.

There was a small chance Aunt Vi wasn't able to see the way we were grinning at each other. He dipped through the open door, brushed a soft kiss across my mouth, then closed the door, lifting a hand in farewell. I missed the ignition twice with my key, and completely forgot about my seatbelt.