She was an hour late, and if his fears were correct, she’d just stood him up. Rotating the brim of his Stetson between his fingers, he stopped in front of the narrow plate of glass that overlooked the street. The boardwalk was busy with morning shoppers, but there was no sign of the impulsive young woman with auburn hair who’d stepped into his life and managed to turn it upside down. One thing in particular had him worried. What if she had found something in her aunt’s journal after their discussion and decided to proceed with the search on her own? The very idea made his stomach turn. Knowing Miss Young, she’d end up in yet another fix. And this time, he might not be there to save her. He pulled his watch from his trouser pocket and opened the case to check the time once more. She was now an hour and five minutes late. “Constantly checking the time rarely makes it pass any faster, Mr. Jefferson.” Aaron spun around on the heels of his boots.
