Kevin hesitated. "It hasn't sold yet."

She felt relief when she knew she shouldn't have. She'd made a commitment, and there was no turning back.

"Do we have a wedding date?"

"Uh, yeah. June first."

"Is that a Saturday?"

"Well, we haven't actually picked an exact day," he qualified. "But some Saturday around June first."

"Oh. So I haven't actually made any plans?"

"You thought it might be easier to wait until you were actually here."

"Two months isn't very long." Oh well, she'd never wanted an elaborate wedding.

She studied Kevin in profile, acknowledging the changes in him. His wavy hair was longer than he'd worn it on the Chicago police force. His face was more tanned, as if he'd spent more time outdoors. He was also a bit leaner, harder, filling out his khaki uniform in intriguing ways.

But the real change was his eyes. Still dark brown, still deep enough to drown in. But they carried a wariness that seemed alien to Tara, like he'd shuttered a part of himself off from the world – from her.

Uneasy, she looked out the window at…nothing. Oh, there were fields and trees and mountains and blue sky, all very pretty. So pretty, in fact, that it didn't seemed real. Where were the people? They'd hardly passed another car on the dinky road into town, much less passed a pedestrian.

Already she was homesick. She loved Chicago, with its hustle and bustle, the noise, the traffic, the skyscrapers. She loved the nightlife, and the fact that she could get Chinese food at two in the morning, if she wanted. She loved being able to hop on the subway and go anywhere she wanted, or waste a whole Sunday afternoon in a museum.

"Does Hardyville have any museums?" she asked impulsively.

Kevin laughed. "Not unless you count the collection of elk antlers on the wall at the Hole-In-Your-Shoe Saloon."