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fleeting things that she'd soon given up trying to make friends. It hurt too much when each new move broke the fragile ties. Settling in Eden had given her a chance to develop lasting friendships for the first time in her life.
    As if that wasn't enough, she was engaged to marry the kindest, most decent man she'd ever met. Gareth Blackthorne was solid, dependable, settled— all the things she wanted in her life. She'd never have to worry about him waking up one morning and deciding it was time to move a thousand miles away because of some wonderful opportunity he'd heard about.
    Gareth had been born and raised in Eden. He'd spent four years attending college in Los Angeles, getting an English degree, and then, when he came home, he'd surprised everyone by becoming a cop rather than a teacher. As far as Kate knew, that was the last time he'd done anything completely unpredictable, which was one of the things she liked most about him. She could count on Gareth.
    And there was his family. The Blackthornes were the embodiment of her childhood fantasies about what a family was supposed to be. They had welcomed her with open arms, making her feel as if her marriage to Gareth was the best thing they could imagine. Philip Blackthorne was a minister, and his wife, Sara, was a doctor. They had two children living. A third, a son, had died at a tragically young age. Gareth was the eldest at thirty-six, there was another brother a couple of years younger than Gareth. Kate knew little about him beyond the fact that he hadn't been home in several years. When his name came up, it seemed to carry with it an indefinable air of regret and sadness. All she knew about him was that he'd left Eden soon after the death of his wife and son.
    Kate assumed there had been some split with the family, and her sympathy for his loss had been diluted by the pain his memory seemed to cause the Blackthornes. She hadn't asked Gareth for an explanation. She told herself it was because she didn't want to bring up a painful topic, but she was guiltily aware that she didn't really want to know anything that might tarnish her image of the Blackthornes as the perfect family. Whatever had happened between Gareth's brother and his family, it had nothing to do with her. Privately, she labeled him "The Black Sheep" and dismissed him. Anyone who could walk away from a family as special as this wasn't worth thinking about.
    "Kate?" The sound of her name startled her and Kate blinked, her eyes meeting Gareth's across the table. The quizzical way he was looking at her made it obvious it wasn't the first time he'd tried to get her attention. She smiled apologetically.
    "Sorry. I guess I faded out for a minute."
    "I was going to offer you a penny for your thoughts but you looked so absorbed, I figured the price might be higher."
    "Not even that much."
    "No doubt you were lost in admiration of my chicken casserole," Philip Blackthorne said.
    "It's delicious," Kate said sincerely. The Mexican-style casserole, with its layers of cheese, tortillas and chicken, was sharply flavored with jalapenos and the more subtle tang of cilantro.
    "I think I did a particularly fine job with it," he said expansively.
    "Nobody can reheat a casserole the way you can, dear," Sara told him, her tone dry. "Did Annie write down the microwave instructions or did you manage to remember them this time?"
    "I remembered them," Philip said with obvious pride.
    Neither of the elder Blackthornes were known for their skill in the kitchen—or household tasks in general. Sara's medical practice kept her busy and Philip's duties with the church were equally demanding. Virtually all of the cooking and a good portion of the housework were done by Mrs. Annie Pickle, a tiny woman with a personality as tart as her name, who seemed to view the care and feeding of the Blackthorne family as an assignment handed down from above. Kate had met her soon after she began dating Gareth and had been thoroughly intimidated by