Sometime near eleven, Mr. and Mrs. Mason Lafferty ran out the front door of the hotel and, while being showered with birdseed, ducked into a long white limo that idled near the front steps. As the guests waved and shouted, the newlyweds roared away. Katie felt a faint twinge of envy, then told herself she was being a romantic twit. She was glad that Bliss and Mason were together, thrilled that Tiffany had found J.D. to become her husband as well as a stepfather to Stephen and Christina. What was right for her half-sisters didn’t necessarily mean that she wanted the same thing. She couldn’t. She didn’t dare let her heart be broken again.

They lingered for a while, dancing, talking with friends and sipping coffee as the crowd thinned. She wandered onto the veranda but Luke grabbed hold of her arm.

“Let’s stay inside.”

“Are you kidding? It must be a hundred degrees in here.” She winked at him and tugging on his hand, dragged him outside. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid to be alone with me, Gates.”

“That’s not it—”

“Good.”

Ignoring the look of unwarranted consternation that twisted his features, she walked across the flagstones and leaned over the rail. From far below, the sound of the creek tumbling over stones and exposed roots reached her ears.

“Tell me about the letter you got,” he said, resting a hip against the stone railing and folding his arms over his chest. He stared down into the canyon, his eyes narrowing as if he were searching for something. Or someone. “The one that’s supposed to be from Isaac Wells.”

“I take it you read the article in the Review.”

“Every word.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” she teased, then added,

“Really, there’s not much more to say. I received the note, gave the original to the police and wrote the article. I don’t know if it’s phony or real.” She turned her palms upward. “I guess time will tell.”

“Could be dangerous,” Luke mused aloud, though his gaze was still searching, his eyes narrowed against the darkness that escaped the wash of light from the hotel’s security lamps. “A nutcase.”

“You sound like Jarrod.”

“Just be careful.”

She lifted a skeptical eyebrow. “You think I’m in some kind of danger?”

“I don’t know that you’re in danger, Katie, but, yeah, it could be trouble.”

“Maybe.” A needle of fear pierced her heart. How many times had she told herself just the same thing?

“It doesn’t worry you? You’re a mother and—”