His fingers tight on the wheel, he drove through town, past the church where Bliss Cawthorne had become Mrs. Mason Lafferty, and on to the old Reed Hotel. A tall three-story building with a Western facade, narrow windows and the original weathered siding, the Reed Hotel had once been a stagecoach stop. Now, after some remodeling and additions, it was the most elegant and historic inn anywhere near Bittersweet.

He handed his keys to a kid who didn’t look old enough to drive, but was eager to park the truck, then headed inside. As if it were Christmas instead of early September, thousands of tiny lights winked in the branches of the trees and shrubbery that flanked the front porch. Again, he told himself, he had no business being here—none whatsoever—and yet he climbed the few steps to the open double doors.

Music filtered from within and he didn’t have to pause at the front desk; he just followed the tinkle of laughter and buzz of excited conversation to a ballroom that was filled to the brim with the citizens of Bittersweet. A small band was playing a lively tune and couples were already swirling around the floor.

He spotted Katie instantly. In a long blue dress with her red hair piled onto her head, she danced with a guy Luke didn’t recognize. Long-legged, with hawkish eyes and a smile that looked as phony as a three-dollar bill, Katie’s partner held her close. Too close. As if she were his personal possession. And Katie was eating it up. She talked and laughed, tilting her head back and flirting outrageously with the stranger. Her cheeks were flushed, her green eyes sparkling, her smile positively radiant. Luke’s gut twisted with something akin to jealousy and he silently swore.

When offered a glass of champagne by a waiter dressed like an old stagehand, Luke accepted the drink and downed it in one long swallow. The room was crowded, the music a little loud, the room surprisingly stuffy and hot. With two fingers he pulled at his collar and told himself his claustrophobia was way out of line.

Mason and Bliss danced past, she in white silk and lace, he in a black tuxedo. He twirled her off her feet and she laughed gaily, as if she hadn’t a care in the world, as if she were completely and truly in love.

The thought sat like lead in Luke’s stomach and he snagged another glass of champagne from a tray near a fountain that spouted gallons of the stuff. Hearing Katie’s laughter rising above the buzz of conversation, clink of glasses and notes from a dance band, he sauntered outside to a veranda where there was a little respite from the heat.

Several people had gathered on the flagstones, talking and smoking, holding drinks or resting their hips against the stone railing and looking over the creek that splashed behind the hotel.