She whirled around, eyes wide as she met his gaze. Two red spots stained her cheeks, but whether from exertion or embarrassment at being caught in a less-than-ladylike predicament, he couldn’t tell.

“Thank you kindly,” she said with a soft southern lilt.

“My pleasure.”

Her face looked vaguely familiar, but he still couldn’t place her, which struck him as odd. Her big turquoise eyes should not be easily forgotten. Hatless, she wore her honey-blond hair piled on top of her head, but a couple of soft ends had fallen loose. The carefree curls didn’t seem to belong to the stern, young face.

He dismounted and tethered his horse to a wooden fence. He guessed the woman lived nearby, but that still didn’t tell him where they might have met.

He tipped his hat. “Name’s Grant Garrison.”

She studied him with a sharp-eyed gaze. “You!”

Since she looked fit to be tied, he stepped back. At that point, the flashing blue-green eyes jarred his memory.

“You’re the”—he almost said jilted—“bride.” He hardly recognized her out of her wedding gown. According to local tongue-waggers, her name was Meg Lockwood. Best not to let on how last week’s disastrous nonwedding was still the talk of the town.

She glared at him, eyes filled with accusations. “That day at the church…you had no right to eavesdrop on a private conversation.”

He extended his arms, palms out. “Please accept my apologies. I can assure you the intrusion was purely unintentional. I was visiting my sister’s grave.”

Uncertainty crept into her expression, but her combative stance remained. “You…you could have announced yourself.”

He also could have stayed hidden, which might have been the better choice. “I considered doing just that. I’m afraid that had I done so, I might have flattened your bridegroom’s nose.”

This failed to bring the smile he hoped for, but at least she looked less likely to do him harm. She glanced up and down the street as if trying to decide whether to accept his help.

“I would be most obliged if you didn’t mention…what you heard.”

Her request confused him. Everyone in town knew the wedding had been called off.

“About the Pacific Islands,” she added.

Never would he profess to understand the way a woman’s mind worked, but her concern was indeed a puzzle. Would she rather her fiancé had left her for another woman, as some people in town suspected?

“I promise.” He pretended to turn a lock on his mouth. “Not a word.”

She let his promise hang between them for a moment before asking, “What brings you to Two-Time, Mr. Garrison?”

He hesitated. “I’m a lawyer. Since the East Coast is overrun with them, I decided to try my luck here. I just opened an office off Main.” He replaced his hat and tossed a nod at the cart. “Where are you taking that?”

“To my sister’s house.” Her gaze shifted to the end of the street. “She lives in the corner house with the green shutters.”