Father in Training

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Sandy Walker had come to Glenwood for old-fashioned family values and a place to raise her children. She hadn't expected to find a tall, dark stranger riding a Harley up her driveway.

She stood alone in front of her newly purchased house, right next to the two-year-old station wagon that had brought her and her three kids safely to the small town. She wasn't nervous, exactly, she told herself as the man rode closer. She was… curious.

He stopped the motorcycle about ten feet from her car, killed the engine and expertly nudged the kickstand in place. Then he stood, straddling the bike. They grow 'em big in Glenwood, she thought dryly, wondering if she should be concerned. The man was a good head taller than her own five feet seven inches.

He reached up and removed his helmet. She'd half expected to see long hair spilling onto his shoulders, but instead he was clean-cut, with short, dark, wavy hair that would barely fall to the top of a dress-shirt collar. Aviator sunglasses hid his eyes. He had a square jaw and a slight smile teasing his lips.

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