Small-Town Hearts by Ruth Logan Herne

that was last Sunday morning. Five churches, all with bell towers, pealing their calls to worship alternately.
    No one was allowed to sleep in on Sunday mornings. Not in Jamison.
    He laughed. “You would be quite comfortable with the church-to-population ratio. And you never know. I just might.”
    She laughed, smug. “I knew sending you down there would be good for you. A chance to reconnect with your roots.”
    â€œMy roots are in Williamsville, remember?”
    â€œAncestral roots, boy. And don’t be a smart aleck. There’s a lot to be learned in a small town. And this has given your sister a chance to spread her wings. Get back in the game.”
    â€œHave you talked with her?”
    A more plaintive note colored her tone. “Yes. And she’s doing fine.”
    â€œBut it’s hard,” Danny added.
    His mother hesitated. He could picture her in the big country kitchen in Williamsville, her forehead knit, a pencil tapping against the counter or the table, an old habit that refused to die. “It is,” she finally agreed. “Which makes it all the more necessary.”
    â€œIf she needs help, I can be just about anywhere in a few hours’ time,” Danny reminded her. “There’s only an airstrip here, but I could fly out of Rochester or Buffalo. Or drive.”
    â€œI know you could. Dad said the same thing, but then it looks like we don’t trust her to do the job, and that’s a risk I can’t take. Not when she’s this fragile.”
    â€œBut is she too fragile?” Danny asked, concern edging his voice.
    â€œNo.” Merrilee Romesser’s reply took a firm turn. “And we’ve got to be careful not to expect too much, too soon. It’s only been a couple of weeks with you down there and Mary Clare stepping into your shoes, so we’ll just give it time.”
    A part of Danny longed to swoop in and grab his sister and cocoon her until the loss of her fiancé didn’t cut as deep, but his mother had already taken a stand with both Romesser men to let Mary Clare spread her wings. Take a chance, a leap of faith. Tucked away in sweet, bucolic Jamison, it was hard to do. “We could still switch spots.”
    â€œNo.” His mother’s voice said that wasn’t about to happen. “It’s good for her to jump into the mainstream and it’s good for you to take a breath, Daniel. Smell a flower. Go to a small-town festival with a pretty girl.”
    Visions of Meg filled him, the sweet, old-world dresses, the colloquial turns of speech, the lacy hairnet she wore on occasion. Then and there he decided his mother was absolutely right. He wanted to stay here for the summer, get the tribute store up and running, and get to know his neighbor. But if his sister needed help… “You’ll let me know if you need me,though, right? I’m enjoying this assignment, but if Mary Clare gets into trouble—”
    â€œI’ll let you know,” his mother interrupted.
    Danny stood, rolled his shoulders, then filled the glass coffee carafe, yawning. “Gotta go. The church service starts in an hour.”
    â€œYou’re actually going?” His mother’s surprise made him laugh.
    â€œI think I will. You can’t sleep through the church bells around here anyway, so why not? Talk to you later this week.”
    â€œOkay.”
    He glanced at the clock again. He had just enough time to get cleaned up and ready if Megs was true to form. She’d left the house for church at nine-ten the previous week. If he just happened to be walking in the same direction for a similar purpose, well…
    Timing was everything, right?
    Â 
    Danny Graham.
    The guy was haunting her in a most annoying fashion. She thought about him when he wasn’t around, and when he was.
    And now he’d gone and kissed her, which incited a whole new round of thoughts.
    And feelings. Amazing feelings.
    She shut