Which was partly why she was in Crested Butte. As much of a clich'e as it was, she’d come here to find herself. To rediscover the Casey she’d lost somewhere along the way.

“What’s so funny?” Max asked.

“Nothing.” She shook her head. “Nothing at all.” She tilted her head up and let the snowflakes kiss her cheeks. Away from the din of the Eldo, the street was silent except for the crunch of their feet on the fresh snow. She felt more at peace than she had in months.

“What are your plans for tomorrow?”

Max’s question startled her out of her reverie. She glanced at him, curious but cautious. “I start work tomorrow. Then…I don’t know. I thought I might buy groceries.” She shrugged. “Nothing exciting.”

“After work, why don’t you let me show you around.” He wasn’t looking at her, but off to one side, his voice deliberately casual.

“Are you asking me out on a date?”

He shook his head. “A date? No.”

“No?” She couldn’t keep a note of disappointment from her voice.

“No. A date would be dinner or a movie or something like that. I just thought—if you’re going to be working for the chamber of commerce, you need to know the area, so you can direct tourists and stuff. I need to run up to the resort sometime tomorrow to trade out some stock with a snowboard shop up there. I thought you could ride with me and check things out.” He shrugged. “Just as a friend.”

That certainly sounded nonthreatening enough. “Okay. That sounds good.”

“Good. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

She was surprised to find they were already at the foot of the steps leading up to the apartments. “Are you coming up?” she asked.

“No. I think I’ll go back to the Eldo for a while.”

“Thanks again for everything,” she said.

“Sure. No problem.” He shoved his hands in his coat pockets and took a step back. “Good night.”

“Good night.”

She climbed the steps, but stopped on the landing outside the door to look back. Max was striding away from her down the street, his shoulders hunched against the cold. He made a romantic figure, snow falling around him.

Of course, when he’d left her at her door to go back to the bar it hadn’t been terribly romantic, but then, what did she expect from a man whose nickname was Mad Max?

Not that she was interested in romance, anyway. She’d come here looking for a change. A chance to figure out what she wanted to do with her life. Romance, she knew from experience, could mess things up.

Max had offered to be her friend; the prospect intrigued her. A woman starting over needed new friends and what woman wouldn’t want a good-looking man like Max on her side?

BEFORE OPENING THE SHOP Monday morning, Max and Molly walked to the post office to collect the mail. Normally, Molly would have run and played in the fresh snow, but at the moment she was too pregnant to do much but plod along, looking up at Max from time to time with the perpetual smile goldens always wear. “It won’t be long now, girl,” he told her. “Our place will be puppy central.” Fortunately, a number of Molly’s future offspring were already spoken for. Then she was off to the vet to make sure this didn’t happen again.

He passed the Eldo and thought of Casey. Who was he kidding? He’d thought of little else since he’d left her last night. She definitely wasn’t the party girl or outdoorsy-type the town usually attracted. He was trying to figure out exactly how she’d ended up in C.B. When he’d spotted her at the bar last night, she’d had a desperate look in her eyes. The look of someone who was involved in something she wasn’t quite sure of.

Which set off more than a few warning bells in his head. He’d had his share of dealings with confused women before—women who wanted him to straighten out their lives for them. Or, worse, ones who thought his life needed straightening.

He reached the post office and gathered the mail. After discarding a stack of junk mail and flyers, he was left with a snowboarding magazine, two bills and two letters addressed to Casey.

That was fast, he thought. After all, she’d only arrived yesterday. But he supposed she’d given out the address as soon as she’d leased the apartment and the letters had been mailed before she even left Chicago.

He studied the return addresses. One was from Mr. and Mrs. Charles Jernigan. Her parents?

The other was from a Paul Rittinghouse. Max frowned. Brother? Cousin?

Boyfriend?

His jaw tightened at the thought and he shoved the letters into his pocket. On one hand, why should it surprise him that a woman like Casey would have a boyfriend? She was pretty and smart with a nice personality.

On the other hand, if she did have a steady boyfriend, why would she move so far away from him?

Another mystery to add to the growing list about Casey. She was a city girl who wasn’t particularly interested in skiing or snowboarding or any of the other activities that led people to abandon all and move to the mountains. She obviously had been uncomfortable as the center of attention last night, but at the same time she wasn’t painfully shy or socially inept.