Tides of Hope. Irene Hannon

out of their parking place and were on their way toward the south end of town did her respiration return to normal.

      They were safe.

      Safe.

      What an odd choice of words, Kate thought, as she swung into the last parking space in Downyflake’s lot and she and Maddie joined the long line that spilled out the front door. Why didn’t she feel safe around the new commander? And why had she felt the need to escape from him?

      It had nothing to do with his position of authority, that much she knew. While she’d been upset by the citation, she’d felt angry, not threatened. Nor had she felt in the least intimidated—or unsafe—when she’d marched over to his office and laid into him about it or when she’d rebuked him for taking chances off Great Point. The unsafe feeling was more…personal…than that.

      And it didn’t take her long to pinpoint its origins: the moment in his office when he’d looked into her eyes and tapped into her private sorrows and deepest insecurities. While he might not know what they were, he knew they were there.

      Unsettling as that had been, Kate wasn’t concerned about the commander using that insight against her. She sensed he had too much integrity and honor for that. So the mere fact he’d breached her defenses, albeit disconcerting, wasn’t what made her feel vulnerable.

      Then what did?

      The line inched forward as she pondered that question. And when the answer came, it took her breath away.

      She felt unsafe—and in need of escape—because, for the first time since she’d lost Mac, she was attracted to a man.

      “Mommy, you’re hurting my hand!”

      At Maddie’s protest, Kate immediately loosened her grip and bent to give the youngster a hug. “I’m sorry, honey. We’re almost to the counter.” Her words came out choppy as she struggled to slow her staccato pulse. “What kind of doughnut are you going to get?”