"This is Mr. Haynes, Blake," she said, smiling at her son and nodding for him to shake hands with their neighbor.

"Call me Kyle."

Blake mumbled something that could have been a greeting, then dropped his arm to his side and stared at his shoes. Before Sandy could think of something to say that would include him in the conversation, Nichole came running toward her.

"Mommy, Mommy, there are flowers and birds in the backyard." Wide green eyes tilted up at the corners as the eight-year-old grinned. "I saw a bluebird."

Lindsay planted her hands on her hips. "That wasn't a bluebird."

"Was too." Nichole spotted the stranger. She ducked behind her mother, then stuck her head out shyly and smiled. Dimples appeared on both cheeks.

Kyle crouched down next to her. "Hi there. You must be Nichole."

"Uh-huh." Her youngest nodded.

"I'm Kyle. I live right there." He pointed to the gatehouse, then rose. "This one's going to be a heartbreaker when she gets older."

"I know. Killer dimples," Sandy said.

Kyle winked at the little girl. "I've always had a thing for green eyes."

Sandy fought the instinctive urge to point out her eyes were green, too. What was it about this man that got to her? Maybe it was spending the last two years living alone. Since Thomas had died, she hadn't been on a date. She wasn't interested in getting involved. So why was she so completely aware of Kyle?

Lindsay leaned against the station wagon and tossed her long brown hair over her shoulder. She gave them what Sandy called her "I'm so sophisticated" look.

"Is there anything fun to do in this hick town?" Lindsay asked.

Kyle glanced at her. "You don't like Glenwood?"