Mouse accepted the hamper silently, and sneaked a quick glance at Alex.

"Do you understand English, boy?" the man barked, and Mouse shuffled away, head down again, and Alex caught sight of a pouting frown on full lips. "Don't strain yer brain none, you'll squash the pea!" He turned to Alex.

"Sorry miss. Mouse wouldn't hurt you none." He chuckled. "Looks scary, is all. Ain't quite got all his marbles up top, you know what I mean?" He poked at his own scalp in demonstration. The man knelt down and retrieved her mace vial.

"Glad you didn't mace him, though he prolly deserved it. I need him tonight, it's busy."

Alex nodded wordlessly as she accepted the explanation and the mace. What could she say? "I'm hungry," she blurted.

"I can take care of that little problem. I'll show you right inside this fine establishment of mine. Plenty to eat, and all of it good."

The man trundled up the stairs and Alex followed, the quavering in her legs slowly subsiding. The barroom exuded the heavenly smells of food and drink, and was softly lit with several hanging lanterns. A large fire roared in a stone hearth toward the back of the dining area.

The walls were ornamented with antiques, old logging tools, awls, blades of varying proportions. Large wooden beams ran across the ceiling, giving the place an aura of rustic warmth. Suffice to say, she was actually impressed.

"Grab a table, I'll send Ginny over right away."

Aware that many curious eyes were now upon her person, Alex scooted into the closest wooden booth, and busied herself with the menu. It definitely wouldn't help matters to stare back. She might as well get used to the pointed glances, for she was an outsider in a small town, and an attitude about it wouldn't score her any points.

Through the whole fiasco of the Mouse incident, Alex realized she had forgotten about James. She flashed a quick glance around the large room, and found herself meeting the blatantly open and perusing stares of several young men at the bar. Alex dropped her eyes again, oddly disappointed. James had not among them.

A waitress in tight blue jeans and a tee-shirt that said "Do Something Wild" approached her table. "Can I get you something to drink, honey?"

"I'd like a Coors Light."

"Will do. Friday night special is prime rib."

"That sounds wonderful. I'm starving." The waitress, presumably Ginny, jotted the order down on a pad, and then looked at Alex with a quirky smile. "You just visiting these parts, hon?"

"No. I'm, uh, new in "town," I'd guess you'd say. I just moved in today."

"Really?" Ginny dropped her hands to curvaceous hips that seemed molded to the denim they were ensconced in. "Wow. Are you alone?"

"Yes, I'm alone," Alex responded warily.

"Sorry for the questions, but you're bound to stir up curiosity. We're just born plain nosy around here." Ginny flashed her a grin before sauntering away. Alex relaxed against the firm wooden backing of the booth, and fiddled with her silverware.

The word alone skipped through her head gaily, repeatedly, mocking her. "Shut up," she muttered under her breath. Alone was a word that had held her captive for many years, with the fear of being just that. Now it would buy her freedom. As well as time, so much time. Alone would be a good thing.

Alone would keep her from thinking about Richard and Elizabeth.

Ginny soon returned bearing a tossed salad and a frosted mug filled with an amber colored liquid. "The guys at the bar sent the beer over. It's Yuengling Lager. They don't allow for any Coors Light to be poured on the premises on Friday nights. Say it's weak as piss water. And sorry for the cuss."

Reluctantly, Alex raised her eyes in the direction of the bar. Two men had swiveled on their stools to gauge her reaction. The younger blond tipped his hat, the older one with a scrubby beard waved enthusiastically.

With a sinking feeling in her stomach, Alex fluttered two fingers at them unwillingly, graced them with a half-smile of thanks, and then dropped her eyes to her salad. "Jesus," she muttered, wishing again that she hadn't disposed of her wedding band so carelessly.

"Uh oh, they're coming over," Ginny giggled. "Go easy on *em. Just let me know if you need help."

The younger one was swaggering, one hand in his pocket, the other hand gripping a beer mug. He might have been what some women termed "cute", but his upturned nose and baseball cap made him look about eighteen and equally obnoxious to Alex. The older fellow hung back a few steps, his broad mouth stretched in a smile that was almost shy.

"Like the lager?" the blond questioned with what he obviously thought was a rakish grin. He even flexed.

Alex sighed at her terrible luck. "It's... quite a romantic gesture guys," she returned dryly. "However, I don't see what's wrong with Coors."

"Coors Light? Tastes more like water than beer. Try the lager. By the way, I'm Lenny and this is Mitchell."

Alex didn't offer her name, but took a swig of the lager, and nodded her approval.

"Why, Lenny, this is much better than piss water. You're obviously a fine connoisseur of premium ales. I'm from the city, so perhaps we could discuss some of my favorite craft brews, like those from Mariner Brewing Company a a small batch brewer homegrown from right here in Pennsylvania? Or, I know... have you ever sampled Willamette Hops? Mmmm. Now that makes a beer a beer."

The men glanced at each other uneasily. Alex noted wryly that Ginny had strategically deserted the area. "What's a well-met hops? Are you joking?" the blond one asked with a nervous chuckle.

Mitchell was somber. "I don't think so, Len." Alex nearly spat out a mouthful of beer when she realized how closely he resembled Al from the old school sitcom Home Improvement.

But laughter simply would not do in this particular circumstance. She wasn't in the mood. She wanted to eat, not flirt with the locals. So Alex pierced them both with her best withering glare. "Boys," she said pointedly, "if you'll excuse me now, I am hungry. I appreciate the beer, though it really wasn't necessary. But thank you for the gesture."

Sniffing, she turned her attention to her salad, stabbing a large chunk of lettuce with her fork and funneling it into her mouth. Alex instantly regretted her hastiness, for the bite was enormous, and she soon had trouble breathing and chewing at the same time.

Mitchell looked suitably chastised, but Lenny's face turned red and furious at the snub and dismissal.

"What's going on here guys, don't tell me you've latched on to this poor young lady already!" A man slid smoothly into the seat across from her. Alex's eyes widened at the familiarity of the face. It was James Sheldon. The hunk of lettuce now lodged itself at the back of her throat, and she struggled to keep from choking on it.

"Oh Jamie, just take a hike, why don't cha," Lenny growled. "This city girl was just about to invite us to join her, right honey? She wants to teach me about her well-met top or something fancy."

"Can't you see, the girl's just trying to eat?" James glanced at her, amusement written in the quirk of his mouth. Alex was rendered mute, still chewing furiously, and she had raised a napkin to her lips to hide the unsightly mastication.

"Do you know her or something?" Mitchell questioned.

"Yeah, we're old friends. Got some catching up to do even. In private." He slanted a pointed glance at Lenny. Alex nodded quickly to back him up.

Still glaring, Lenny adjusted his cap before striding off to the bar. "Freakin' city women." Mitchell followed close behind, an expression of bewilderment still adorning his large features.

Alex finally managed to swallow the last of her food, and cleared her throat. To her own embarrassment, "James," was all she managed to croak out, and she felt her cheeks flush.

"You certainly do seem to have a recurring problem with food." James reached across the table and flicked a drop of dressing from the tip of her nose. "Cooking it, eating it...the works. Not to mention your little problem with people."

"I'm beginning to believe it's more the people than the food," she finally managed, after swallowing a long pull of beer. James Sheldon had the uncanny knack of catching her at her worst moments. Off guard, self-conscious, and... inexplicably irritable.

Alex narrowed her hazel eyes, taking in the strong lines of his face, the baby blues that could make any female heart trip over itself, the firm lips quirked in a lazy grin. Jamie's shoulders were broader than she remembered, and she found herself yet again imagining a smooth, hard chest and the cording of muscles beneath his shirt. Even his fingers exuded strength as he laced them together and leaned forward, propping his chin against them.

James narrowed his eyes back at her, mimicking her glare, and his smile only widened as she bristled further.

"So did you break my stove?" he questioned casually, breaking the silence.

"No!" she huffed.

"Burn your supper, and then throw the whole works away rather than lower yourself to clean it?"

She flushed, knowing she had actually tossed primavera due to its very looks in favor of a protein bar. "Your stove is in my vehicle, I'll have you know. I meant to return it all along, I just-"

"Take it easy, I'm just giving you a hard time," he chuckled.

Alex pushed the remainder of her salad away, miffed. "I wouldn't expect anything less from you, in or out of uniform."

"Touche," James responded to the jibe. "Onto the question of the day. Why have you returned to this little old town?" His brows furrowed. "Couldn't be back for more hiking... that was definitely a fiasco... I'm surprised you made it out of the woods in one piece. Hmmm... So Alex, could it be that you've missed my boyish good looks and irresistible charm?"

There was no way now she was going to admit she was looking for him. "Sorry to disappoint you, James. I don't go for boyish. I'm more for the tall, dark, and ruggedly handsome type. "

"There you go again, Lovey, you've got this thing about youth. I'm probably older than you."

"I'm twenty-eight," Alex stated challengingly.

He stared at her quietly, steepling his fingers.

"Well?" she prodded.

"Twenty-seven," he finally drawled. "But... signs sure seem to point that I am much more mature than you."

He had swiftly turned the tables back on her again with a flash of that taunting, sarcastic grin. Infuriating. Alex had been sucked right back into verbal sparring with this guy, even though it had not been her intent at all. She needed to stop this. Hell, she had come here to apologize. She'd only made another mess.

Ginny approached with a huge platter of meat and potatoes. It was time for her to go before things got any worse. "Ginny, could you wrap it? I lost my appetite."

Jamie rose abruptly, and plopped some cash on the table. "On me, Ginny."

Alex just watched his hurried departure in mute surprise. "Catch you later, Lovey," he muttered in her general direction, and headed for the door.

It was annoying. Jamie had found himself caught right up once again by that shimmering intensity in Alex's eyes, the hazel orbs had literally glistened with it.

The eyes always get me, he thought ruefully, as his gaze had slanted down her slender nose and across those full, sexy lips.

Even as she smirked over being one ridiculous year older than him, he noted how that mouth had a pouty aura, the bottom lip slightly fuller, and profoundly kissable.

Jamie now pushed the image away, disgusted, and wondered for the second time around why he had actually bothered. He was curious, sure enough, but it was becoming quite apparent that trying to get to know Ms. Winters was a lot like trying to sniff a bloom on a cactus plant. You always got pricked in the process.

"James, wait..." he heard her call to his retreating back. "I, uh, don't forget about your stove."

"Oh, I didn't forget. You can keep it." He tossed the words lazily over his shoulder, and continued on, noting irritably that at the bar, Len was guffawing behind his beer mug. With a sarcastic wave, Jaime ducked outside.

The night air was bracing, the temperature having dropped considerably. The cloying darkness of early evening had lifted, and a few stars now patterned the black void above. He breathed deeply, shoving his hands roughly into his jeans pockets.

Although it was Friday night, he had a long day ahead of him tomorrow. It would suit him just fine to head on home early.

"Hi Mouse," he nodded at the menacing shadow who had magically appeared, as if conjured up from the pits of Hades, to loom four inches above his own six feet of height. But Mouse's nature was anything but hellish, and he had biceps that could rock a sixty pound bale of hay through the mow like it was nothing but feathers and fluff.

"Jay-me." Mouse's speech was impaired from an injury sustained in early childhood, and he had grown up with the stigma of the severely retarded, even though his IQ was only a handful of points below normal. People were either afraid of him or ignored him completely, and both responses had the same detrimental effect on Mouse's monumental shyness.

"Could use some help next weekend. It's time to clean out the haymow, get ready for the new stuff coming. You gonna be around?"

"Yup. Sure Jay-me."

Jaime smiled and reached out to thump Mouse affectionately on the shoulder. Then he realized that Mouse's attention had been diverted elsewhere. Alexandra Winters was poised on the top step, juggling her boxed dinner and her purse. Mouse broke into his wide, toothy grin and Jaime bit back a chuckle at her nervous look.

"James," she began, "Please wait a moment. I want to talk to you."

So she was not to be deterred by the presence of the Incredible Hulk, Jamie thought wryly. Dear Lovey obviously wasn't used to being walked out on.

He sighed. "Okay Alex, this is Mouse."

"We met," she muttered. "Hi again...umm Mouse."

"Hi a-gen. Oww-lex."

"Close enough." She gave Mouse a quick smile and started sidling uneasily down the stairs.

"James, listen. You're going to take your stove back. I'm sorry for all this fuss. I don't want this on my conscience."

"What? You have a conscience?" he questioned lightly.

She bristled and then simply stormed away toward the quiet parking lot. No back talk, no sarcastic jibe to cut his pride to the quick? He decided to follow her slender form between the rows of cars, now dark beasts of metal that hulked in the absence of light. His damned curiosity was getting the better of him again.

Alex pulled open the tailgate and crawled into the bed, cursing when her head connected with metal. James had a moment to view an upturned ass in curve-hugging Levi's.

"To bad the moonlight's so poor," he muttered.

"Yeah, I can't see a thing," her voice returned, slightly muffled as she rooted through whatever stuff she had piled in the back. "I should have pulled this out earlier, but I wasn't sure you would be here. They told me you might at Headquarters, though." Her face appeared as she crawled back out on her hands and knees.

"So you were looking for me?"

"Yes," she admitted. "I wanted to return your stove."

"Here, let me help you." He offered his hand.

"No, I'm fine." She scuttled off of the back, cracking her elbow on the edge of the tailgate. "Shit, ouch!"

"Jesus, Alex." Jamie couldn't help a chuckle. Then a little fist collided with his bicep smartly. "It's not funny. I'm not used to this damned beast of a truck yet."

"Yeah, I guess it must be quite a change from the beamer."

"What makes you think I drove a BMW?" she asked in a quieter voice. She was standing close to him. In the darkness, her features were indiscernible; both softened and shaped by the shadows themselves. He could make out the tip of her nose, the fullness of her lower lip that had fashioned itself into a pout again, and the glimmer of her eyes. Alex tossed her head, and he heard the whisper of soft hair as it whisked across her cheeks and shoulders. "Well?"

"Just a feeling. If not a beamer, then a Mercedes. Where is this hubby of yours, anyway?"

Instead of answering, Alex reached behind her and pulled out his stove. "Here it is, still in working condition. Thank you for lending it to me." Her voice was stiff and formal once again.

He gritted his teeth. She had flicked his question off like a small, insignificant insect. "No problem." He took the stove and sighed. "Why must you be so damned defensive and prickly, Alexandra?"