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always hanging around your papa’s kitchen.” He winked at Melanie. “When you weren’t trying to hang around us, that is. You had an uncanny knack for timing.”
    “Well, someone had to keep you and Charlotte from necking under the staircase.”
    Charlotte felt a blush seep into her cheeks. She strove to retain her composure, reminding herself that she was a forty-year-old woman, not a teenager in the throes of puppy love. “Don’t you have a turkey to cook, Melanie?”
    “Actually I do.” She backed away. “It was good seeing you again, Jackson.”
    “You, too, pest.”
    “Even though it looks as if Charlotte’s still trying to get rid of me?” She laughed and turned to leave. “Some things never change.”
    Charlotte waited until her sister had moved away, then smoothed an imaginary wrinkle from her suit and put on one of her most polite smiles. “I’m glad we ran into you this morning, Jackson.”
    He looked at her, lifting one eyebrow in silent skepticism as if he’d known she’d been considering ignoring him.
    He couldn’t still see through her, could he? It was a disconcerting thought. She laid two fingers lightly on his sleeve, determined to get the conversation under control. “We didn’thave a chance to talk last night, but I wanted to tell you how sorry I was about what happened to your uncle.”
    His smile disappeared. Jackson’s uncle, William Armstrong, had been shot while rescuing Anne Marchand during an attempted carjacking, and his heroism had almost cost him his life. “Thank you.”
    “Have you seen him yet?”
    He nodded. “I went to the hospital straight from the airport.”
    “I understand he’s making amazing progress.”
    “For a sixty-five-year-old man who had a bullet dug out of his lung three days ago, he’s doing better than anyone could expect.”
    Charlotte suppressed a shudder. “We’re all more grateful to him than words can say. Your uncle likely saved our mother’s life. What he did was very brave.”
    “Anne said the police haven’t made any progress in the case.”
    “No, she never got a good look at the carjacker. It all happened too fast.”
    “She seemed well when I saw her. But from what the nurses told me, she’s barely left William’s side.”
    “She feels responsible for what happened. He was coming to her aid when he was shot.”
    “There’s more to her vigil than gratitude. They told me they’re engaged.”
    “Yes.”
    He dipped his head, his gaze searching hers. “How do you feel about that?”
    “I think it’s wonderful,” she said immediately. And she did, she reminded herself. Although she loved her father, he’d been dead for more than four years. William was a good man.While Charlotte had been suspicious of his relationship with Anne at first, he’d proven his feelings for her mother were sincere. Above all, Anne was a warm, loving woman and she deserved a second chance at happiness.
    “What about you?” she asked. “It doesn’t bother you that William’s remarrying, does it?”
    “Why should it? He and Anne seem happy together and they have a lot in common.” His arm flexed beneath her touch. “And I’d say they’re old enough to know what they’re doing.”
    Not like us, she added silently. She and Jackson had had nothing in common—they’d been a textbook example of opposites attracting. And they’d been too young to know how to do anything.
    Well, that wasn’t entirely true. There had been some things they’d eventually fumbled their way through despite their youth and their ignorance…
    The heat in her cheeks deepened as Charlotte realized with a start that she was still touching him. She’d meant it as a polite but brief gesture, yet somehow her fingers had spread. Through the smooth fabric of his sleeve she could feel a ridge of lean muscle along his forearm.
    His arm certainly hadn’t felt like that twenty years ago.
    She shifted, intending to pull away to prevent the moment from getting awkward, but