“There’s no chance. Not as long as that Perkins family draws breath,” Hank said.

“You’re starting to sound like one of the Hatfields or the McCoys. Come to think of it, you’re starting to look like one of them, too.”

Tonight Hank’s hair was messier than usual. With his shirt buttoned incorrectly and hanging longer on one side, he looked as if he didn’t give a damn about anything. He liked it that way. But he wasn’t the most wild-looking of the brothers. That distinction belonged to Uncle Ed.

Uncle Thomas, on the other hand, prided himself on always facing talk, scandal or just life in general, looking his finest. When not working with his hands, he dressed immaculately in a collared, button-down shirt and Dockers.

Uncle Thomas chuckled. “You do need a haircut,” he said to his brother.

Hank scowled at him. “Why? Who’s lookin’ at me that I care about?”

“Your granddaughter,” Derek reminded him. “If nothing else, how about cleaning yourself up for her benefit?”

As if on cue, Holly ran into the room, Fred at her heels. “Dad, it’s almost time for Gabrielle’s talk at the library. I don’t want to miss it!”

Derek winced. He hadn’t anticipated Holly having any interest in the talk, but given her new obsession with Gabrielle, he should have.

“Listen,” he said, walking over to his daughter. “I don’t think any of us are going to go tonight.”

“Speak for yourself,” Hank said.

“Can I go with you, Grandpa?” Holly asked, eyes wide and pleading.

Hank paused. “I don’t know that the subject’s one that you need to hear about,” he said kindly. Hank might be opinionated and outspoken, but he respected Derek’s role as Holly’s parent. “Who cares about curses and the like, anyway? Fred loves having you around. Why don’t you keep an eye on him while I’m gone?”

She frowned. “Do you think I don’t know about the family curse?” She propped her hands on her small hips.

“Just what do you know and how?” Derek asked.

“Just about everything!” She rolled her eyes in that adult way she had. “Mom told me that once a long time ago, a wicked witch named Mary cursed the Corwin men and ever since they can’t fall in love or else they’ll lose everything,” she said matter-of-factly. “Just like you did.”

“When did Mom tell you this?” he asked.

“While I was packing to come stay with you.”

Apparently marriage had mellowed his ex even more than Derek had realized if she was willing to blame their divorce on the curse rather than on Derek’s workaholic feet.

“So can I go with Grandpa? Please?”

Derek groaned. If she knew about the curse, that was one less thing he’d have to explain to her when she got older. As for tonight, he was still on the fence. “Do you believe in the curse?” he asked.

She pursed her lips in thought. “I don’t know. It seems kinda silly, but Mom pointed out how Aunt Ruthie and Aunt Allison are still happily married. It’s just the men in the family who can’t get it right.”

Derek exhaled a groan. “That’s one way of putting it. But listen, you know how mean people can be? Talking and saying things they shouldn’t?”

She nodded.

“Well, that’s why I don’t want you to go to the library tonight. If they’re talking about our family, why should we go and listen?”

“Because it’s about us, silly! We can go and either tell the true version or make sure they say nice things.”

If only it were as simple as that, Derek mused.

“I think Little Missy has a point. We should show up and hold our heads high,” Hank said. “Maybe that’ll keep them from telling tales that aren’t true, at least.”

Derek rubbed his hands over his eyes.

“Please, Daddy?” Holly said, eyes wide, deliberately batting her lashes.

How could he argue with his daughter’s sweet face, his father’s obstinate insistence or his own desire to see Gabrielle again?

GABRIELLE ARRIVED EARLY at the library. She liked to see where she’d be speaking and get a feel for the place before she actually did her thing. It helped ease the jitters that went with public speaking. As her other writer friends liked to say, they preferred being behind the computer screen, not in front of a crowd. Gabrielle didn’t mind the attention as much as some people, but she still appreciated time to warm up.

She stood at the small podium and was reading through her notes when the first guests arrived-an older woman accompanied by a younger one with a pad in her hand. Gabrielle didn’t recognize either of them.

“Are you Gabrielle Donovan, the author?” the older woman asked.

Gabrielle put her papers in a neat pile and stepped down so she’d be on the same level as her visitor. “Yes. And you are?”

“Mary Perkins.” She shook Gabrielle’s hand. “And this is my granddaughter and indispensable assistant, Elizabeth.”

Gabrielle shook Elizabeth’s hand, too. “Nice to meet you both. It’s Mayor Perkins, isn’t it?”

The older woman nodded. “Of Perkins. My family founded the town,” she said proudly.

“And will continue its legacy in the next election,” Elizabeth said with certainty, her hand on her grandmother’s shoulder.

Gabrielle smiled. “Nice to meet you,” she said, sizing up Richard’s opponent and the woman who apparently struck fear in many.

It was hard to believe.

She couldn’t be more than five foot three inches to Gabrielle’s five foot five. Her hair was gray and professionally styled. She wore a tailored suit and what Gabrielle’s mother would call sensible heels. The outfit complemented her conservative style. Her granddaughter was a younger version of the mayor. Her brown bob wasn’t as chic as it was conservative. Utilitarian, even, along with her clothes. They’d both greeted Gabrielle with a welcoming smile-even though the subject of Gabrielle’s speech tonight went against everything the Perkins family stood for.

“Congratulations on your success. I understand you’re a fixture on the bestseller lists,” Mary said.

“Thank you. I feel very fortunate.” And at the moment, very off balance, Gabrielle thought. She wasn’t sure what Mary wanted or what to make of her friendly overture.

“Nonsense. Never sell yourself short. Fortune occurs because of talent.” Mary reached into her purse and pulled out a paperback copy of Gabrielle’s latest book. “I was hoping you would sign this for me.”

Gabrielle nodded. “Of course.” She accepted the book, opened to the title page and signed it as generically as she could get away with. Best wishes, Gabrielle Donovan.

She placed the date below her signature and handed the book back to the mayor. “Thank you for asking.”

The other woman smiled. “My pleasure. I think it’s wonderful that you’re returning to your hometown to speak. Some people become famous and forget where they came from.”

Gabrielle forced a smile. She hadn’t been back in years, and though she’d had her reasons, this woman’s comment struck a nerve.

From behind Mary, Gabrielle noticed people were beginning to file into the room, filling the seats. “It was nice to meet you,” Gabrielle said, hoping Mary would take the hint and leave.

“You, too.” Elizabeth stepped out from her grandmother’s shadow. “I’m looking forward to hearing you speak. It’s fascinating how you debunk popular myths.” Her inflection never changed nor did her expression.

“I just write the facts as I see them, based on research, psychological evaluation. The theories, however, are my own.”

“Yes. We all have our own ways of viewing the same phenomenon, don’t we? That’s why so many people from both my town and Stewart are showing up to hear you.”

Gabrielle glanced toward the rapidly filling room where people-neighbors, friends-congregated. “I suppose you’re right.”

Mary straightened her shoulders and Elizabeth followed suit. “Yes, we usually are. Well, best of luck.” She lifted the signed book in the air. “Thank you again.” They turned and walked away to find a seat.

Gabrielle shivered. “That was the strangest thing,” she said aloud.

“What did the wicked witch and her mini me want?” Sharon asked as she joined her.

Gabrielle hadn’t seen her friend come in. “To say hello and have me sign a book for her.”

“That’s odd.”

So was the way everyone in the room gave the older woman a wide berth. “For a woman who’s been the uncontested mayor of Perkins for years, she doesn’t have many people wanting to talk to her,” Gabrielle mused.

“There’s a reason for that. She’s not likable,” Sharon said.

Yet she had been very pleasant to Gabrielle. “I need to get ready.”

Sharon nodded. “You’ll be great. And I’m here for support. So is Richard.” She pointed to her fiancé, who was meeting and greeting people in the audience. Since the towns of Stewart and Perkins were so close, their pasts so intertwined, people from both places wanted to hear what Gabrielle had to say.

All under the watchful eye of Mary Perkins, who was obviously staying for the talk. She and her granddaughter had taken seats in the back.

By themselves.

By the time Gabrielle walked up to the podium, the small library was filled to capacity. Chairs had been set out in rows and the crowd overflowed into the back hall. She was pleased with the turnout, especially since her latest book had been published last October. Normally, Gabrielle spoke only when she had a new book to promote, doing readings at local libraries, signings and chats at bookstores.

Tonight’s talk was different. She wasn’t here to sell books. She was here to use her expertise to sway people’s thinking. She’d stop short of endorsing Richard Stern’s mayoral campaign, and she definitely wouldn’t mention the much visible Mary Perkins.

Gabrielle started on time. She’d watched the flow of people walk in, keeping an eye out for Derek or his gun-toting father. Thanks to that searing kiss earlier today, she’d been too distracted to ask Derek if Holly had been serious about her grandfather. But so far, neither man had showed.

Though she was disappointed, she reminded herself she hadn’t expected him to be here tonight. Still, she’d be a liar if she didn’t admit that she’d hoped the kiss had stayed with him long enough to lure him out, anyway.

Shaking off her disappointment, she began an animated talk. She started off stating the amount of study she’d done in the area of the paranormal and followed by discussing how it related to her books. In Future Stars, she’d debunked fortune-tellers and in Her Mind’s Eye, she questioned the validity of psychics.

She continued her speech by addressing curses, which she’d dealt with peripherally in Disenchanted, last year. She referred to theories such as the Theory of Suggestibility, which detailed how people experiencing intense emotions regarding certain subjects, like a curse, were more receptive to ideas surrounding them. Referring to the towns of Perkins and Stewart, she explained that the emotions surrounding the curse were so high, any event that seemed to meet the criteria of the curse was automatically pegged as a result. She also explained the notion of crowd psychology and how group mentality often came to overrule an individual’s personal thought and belief system.

Though careful not to mention the Corwins or the Perkins families by name, and even more cautious not to meet Mary’s and Elizabeth Perkins’s stares, Gabrielle finished by pulling together the towns’ collective experience with the curse. She tried to impart the notion that just because every male within a cursed family line that had fallen in love had suffered financial loss and emotional devastation didn’t mean the curse existed. Individual circumstances coincidentally met the same criteria as the curse, and it was possible that even the power of suggestion played a role in the choices key players made.

Gabrielle received a standing ovation for her talk, then she took questions. Finally, she glanced at the clock and realized an hour had passed.

“Last question?” A quick glance at the back row told her Mary Perkins had left unnoticed. However, when she turned her gaze to the back door, she was surprised to see Derek and his father had arrived at some point, as well.

Pleasure wrapped over her at the sight of him. In nothing more than dark jeans and a basic T-shirt, he still stood out in a crowd.

His gaze met hers and heat stirred in her belly, distracting her from anything except him. Her lips curved into a smile.

Suddenly he raised his hand, which reminded her she’d been about to take her last question. She swallowed hard. “Yes?” she asked, pointing to him. “Derek?”

“I was wondering what your next book was going to be about.”

Wow. She’d expected the question at some point. Just not from him.