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said. “You’ll both be our first guests.”
    “I’ll look forward to it,” Brand said.
    “So will I,” Laura assured Hank.
    Laura felt Brand’s gaze on her and turned his way. Staring into his eyes, she saw no lust there, merely respect. And tenderness.
    Laura looked away first. “I’d best be getting back. Rodrigo needs these groceries.” She held out her hand for the basket. “I can manage by myself from here, Reverend, thank you.”
    “You’re not going to let a pretty lady walk home all alone, are you?” Hank nudged Brand on the shoulder.
    Laura wanted to muzzle the newspaperman.
    “Of course not.” Brand kept a hold of the basket and offered his arm again. Unwilling to refuse in front of Hank, Laura hesitated and then accepted. The sooner she gave in, the sooner she’d behome. She took a deep breath and lightly rested her fingertips on the crook of Brand’s elbow again.
    By the time they reached the boardinghouse, they’d fallen into a comfortable silence that wasn’t broken until Brand said, “I had an ulterior motive for walking you home, you know.”
    “Don’t tell me
you
harbor any secrets, Reverend.”
    “I admit it. I’m guilty.”
    He stepped closer. There was less than a foot between them now.
    She wished he would step back, but he didn’t move. His nearness affected her in ways she couldn’t fathom. She stepped closer to the door. She might have been wary, but his eyes were not only smiling, but brimming with honesty. They weren’t full of blarney like her uncle Tim’s. Nor was there any lust or perversion there. They were open, honest, and filled with what she could only describe as hope. She was surprisingly moved.
    “May I call on you tomorrow?” the preacher asked.
    “Call tomorrow?”
    “To stop by and chat,” he clarified. “I was thinking of something in the nature of a social call.”
    Shock reverberated through her. Had she given him any reason to think she’d welcome him as a gentleman caller? Perhaps she’d stared at him a bit too long—smiled a bit too openly. She
had
taken his arm.
    She set the basket down beside the front door. There was a reason for the sign on the wall behind her.
Women and Families Only.
She wanted no single men under her roof. She needed to keep her reputation impeccable. Her standing in Glory, her business success, depended upon maintaining her spotless character. She hadn’t let herself know a man, socially or otherwise, in nearly five years. When she’d first moved to town, she’d turned down so many marriage proposals Amelia had told her the word was out: there was no need to try to woo the widow Foster.
    The answer to Brand’s question was simple: his intent mightbe innocent, but she was not. He was a preacher. She was a whore. If he knew that attending Sunday services was simply a part of her new persona and had nothing to do with faith, he wouldn’t be asking at all.
    Besides, Brand McCormick might smile down at her with the guileless eyes of an honest man and a preacher, but he was, after all, still a man. To allow him to come calling would surely open a Pandora’s box of trouble.
    “I’m afraid that’s out of the question. I’ll be rather busy tomorrow.” She glanced behind her, reached for the brass doorknob.
    “The next day, then?” he suggested.
    “I’m afraid I’ll be busy all week. I’ve a new round of guests arriving by week’s end.”
    “Ah,” he said.
    She wondered if there was some special punishment reserved for sinners who fibbed to a minister. Even if it was for his own sake.
    “Reverend, I’ve tried to be nice, but I am really not interested in gentleman callers.” There were enough black marks on her soul already. What difference did one more little lie make?
    She realized her rebuff had not dimmed the determined light in his eyes. Not one bit. Brand McCormick raised his hat and tipped it in her direction. And smiled that smile.
    “I understand. Some other time, perhaps,” he said.
    “I