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pedal lightly instead of slamming it and sending their tires into a skid. Newcomers, who hadn’t learned to drive on icy roads, were sliding and spinning like Olympic figure skaters. Between the city limits and the Shop Mart parking lot, Shane was nearly hit twice. Skillful dodging saved his truck from being bashed, but he was sweating under his coat as he pulled up to Shop Mart. One wreck was enough for the day.
    The sheriff’s big tan SUV was parked next to the Dumpster, where Shane had left his wrecked bike. Sheriff Ben Marsden was standing under the overhang of the storefront, as if waiting for him. Somebody must’ve called the accident in.
    Ben glanced around as Shane climbed out of the pickup. He was tall, with piercing gray eyes beneath his felt trooper hat. His body had filled out some since he was all-state quarterback in high school. But the man was still rock-hard and Texas tough. Nobody messed with Ben Marsden.
    He and Shane hadn’t been friends in their school years. Ben had been the all-American boy, Shane the rebel. But they’d long since outgrown those days and settled their differences. The two men liked and respected each other.
    Ben glanced back at the bike. “Tough break, Shane. I know what that old bike meant to you.”
    “Yeah. Merry Christmas.” Shane spoke the words with a twist of irony.
    “Carl, here—” He nodded toward the bagboy. “He told me some woman backed into your bike while it was parked. I was wondering if you wanted to fill out an accident report and press charges.”
    Shane shook his head. “It happened on private property, and she wasn’t doing anything illegal. Just trying to back out of a bad spot. I was mad as hell, still am. But punishing her won’t fix the bike.”
    “She’s got insurance?”
    Shane nodded. “She offered to pay. But the insurance money I’d get for that old bike might not be worth the bother.”
    “Well, that’s your decision.” Ben stared out across the parking lot, where the cars were already buried under a layer of white. “Rumor has it, you’re planning to saddle up and leave town.”
    “That’s right. Got my ranch listed for sale. Want to buy it?”
    Ben’s chuckle carried an edge. “Wish I could. But it’s all I can do to manage alimony and child support. Cheryl’s got me over a barrel.”
    Ben had married the homecoming queen he’d met in college. It had turned out to be a bad idea. “See much of your boy these days?” Shane asked. “Sorry, I forget his name.”
    “It’s Joshua. And no, I don’t see him near enough. Now that he’s five and in school, the visits are even harder to schedule, especially with his mother pulling the strings.” He glanced back toward the bike. “I guess things are tough all over. C’mon, let me help you load your machine so you can get the hell out of here.”
    Carl had been called back inside. Shane rigged a single ramp, and together the two men wheeled the crippled bike into the back of the pickup truck and laid in the loose pieces. Shane threw a canvas tarp over it to keep off the snow and climbed into the driver’s seat.
    Ben motioned to Shane as he was about to start the engine. Shane rolled down the window. “I forgot to ask,” Ben said. “Did you get some I.D. on the woman who hit your bike?”
    “I recognized her when she gave me her card,” Shane said. “Remember Kylie Summerfield from school?”
    “Kylie? I’ll be damned. Sure, I remember her. Nice girl. A little too goody-goody for my taste, but pretty—and smart. So she’s back in town. What’s her story?”
    “Widowed, down on her luck. She and her two kids have moved in with Muriel. She’s as good-looking as ever. You might want to check her out. Hey, maybe you could ask her about the accident.”
    Ben chuckled and shook his head. “The last thing I need right now is another woman in my life. My mother had a nasty fall in her old house yesterday. I’m planning to move back in after the holidays, just so somebody