When they were on the road, he said, “Sandwiches okay?”
“I like anything I don’t have to cook.”
“So much for my pot roast theory.”
“What does that mean?”
“I had you pegged for someone who could make a super pot roast.”
“I’m not sure what that says about your opinion of me, but I can guarantee that I don’t like being pigeonholed.”
He glanced at her as he pulled onto the main road, his eyes asking if he’d offended her.
“Meat loaf,” she said.
“What?”
“I can make a meat loaf that will make you cry.”
“Would that be tears of joy or horror?”
Gemma smiled. “That’s my secret.” They were quiet for a moment as he drove them through the little town of Edilean. The streets branched out from a square with a huge oak tree in the center. She’d read on the town Web site that the tree was said to be a descendant of one planted from a seed brought from Scotland by the woman for whom the town was named.
As a historian, Gemma couldn’t help marveling at the buildings around the town square. Some of them were modern, meaning that they’d been built since World War II, but most of them were older than that, certainly pre-Civil War. It looked as though Sherman hadn’t applied his treachery to this Southern town.
She looked at Colin. “What’s the office your mother mentioned? Do you have a job?”
He gave her a sharp look. “Are you asking if I support myself or do I live off my father’s car business?”
Gemma instantly turned red. It was exactly what she’d meant. “I . . .”
“That’s okay. It’s an assumption everyone makes, and two of my brothers do work for him. But I was recently officially elected Edilean’s sheriff.”
“Really?” Her eyes widened. “Do you have an office and a deputy and a case full of rifles, and what kinds of crime does this town have?”
Colin laughed. “Are you curious about everything or is it just me?”
“Everything, anything. So, do you?”
“I have all those things, and my jurisdiction extends to the wilderness area around Edilean, so I stay busy. After lunch, I’ll show you my office.”
Gemma hesitated. “Is your mother going to think I’m like Isla and after one of her sons?”
“She doesn’t pry into our personal lives. So did you leave a boyfriend to come here?”
“Broke up with the last guy six months ago.”
Colin had driven through the town and now turned down a narrow road. With trees overhanging above, like a canopy, it looked like they were heading into the wilderness. “What about the football players you tutor? No boyfriend there?” he asked.
“They think I’m their mother.”
“Now why do I doubt that?”
“No, really, they call me Miss G, and they tell me their problems.”
“Such as?”
“Looks like I’m not the only one who’s curious.”