The Bull Riders Collection - Lynn Cahoon

Contents The Bull Rider’s Brother The Bull Rider’s Manager The Bull Rider’s Keeper Crimson Sneak Peek

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The Bull Rider’s Brother Lynn Cahoon

Avon, Massachusetts

This edition published by Crimson Romance an imprint of F+W Media, Inc. 10151 Carver Road, Suite 200 Blue Ash, Ohio 45242 www.crimsonromance.com Copyright © 2012 by Lynn Cahoon ISBN 10: 1-4405-4460-3 ISBN 13: 978-1-4405-4460-6 eISBN 10: 1-4405-4459-X eISBN 13: 978-1-4405-4459-0 This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, corporations, institutions, organizations, events, or locales in this novel are either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, used fictitiously. The resemblance of any character to actual persons (living or dead) is entirely coincidental. Cover art © 123rf/Fernando Cortãs De Pablo, Anna Y akimova

Contents CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT CHAPTER NINE CHAPTER TEN CHAPTER ELEVEN CHAPTER TWELVE CHAPTER THIRTEEN CHAPTER FOURTEEN EPILOGUE

CHAPTER ONE Cowboys aren’t easy to love — but they sure are easy on the eyes. Lizzie Hudson gazed appreciatively at the abundance of lanky male bodies line-dancing along the planked hardwood and knew accepting Barb’s invitation for a night out had been a bad idea. Her logical side said she was too old to be out with the crowd celebrating the night before the rodeo, but after

consuming a few longnecks and taking a couple spins on the dance floor, she felt like a teenager. It had a long time since she experienced a night free of responsibility while JR, her five-year-old son stayed with his grandfather. She glanced at her phone. Maybe she should call in one more time just to check. “If you dial that phone, I’m going to take it away from you.” Barb held out a longneck to Lizzie. “You called before dinner. He was fine then, he’s fine now — and if he

wasn’t your dad would call. C’mon. Mom time is over. You and I are having fun if it kills us.” Lizzie laughed, slipping the cell back into her jacket pocket. Even though the calendar marked it as the first weekend of May, Shawnee, Idaho still grew chilly after the early sunset. Before the sun crested the mountains surrounding the town, temperatures in the narrow valley would drop close to freezing. Again Lizzie let her gaze wander over the dance floor. River’s

End was only one of ten bars in the small town. Ten bars, ten churches, and one school. With its proximity to mountains, rivers, and hot springs, Shawnee’s residents made a year-round living from outdoor enthusiasts, hunters, and fisherman. Still, the bar built for crowds of twenty had three times that tonight. Tourists, townies, and rodeo crew were crammed into the small room and spilling out into the street. The jukebox blared an old Patsy Cline tune, but even Patsy’s

strong, mournful voice had trouble being heard over the chatter and laughter of the crowd. “Let’s step outside where we can talk. I’ve two-stepped my toes raw already.” Lizzie weaved her way through the crowd, ignoring offers of drinks and playful slaps on the butt. Rodeo weekend and every man thought he was a cowboy. A cowboy looking for a ride was more like it. The pair walked over to the side of the building where parade

stands were erected in the bar’s parking lot. What with the downhome party atmosphere, the influx of tourists, and the chance to have a few too many after a long winter, no one drove anywhere once the sun set during rodeo days. The out-oftown visitors’ cars, trucks, and rigs were parked at the rodeo grounds or a nearby motel. Lizzie’s old compact sat in front of the condo Barb had rented for the weekend. Upon reaching the parade stands, Lizzie and Barb climbed to

the top of the metal structure. Other than the muffled sounds coming from the bar next to them, the town seemed quiet. The night sky loomed over them. Lizzie could feel the damp chill from the river, cooling the valley. “I can’t believe you agreed to come for the entire weekend.” Barb clinked Lizzie’s bottle. “Who were you dancing with? Tall, dark, and all that!” “Justin something. He’s out of Colorado. A bull rider.” The cowboy

had told Lizzie a lot about his life, how he competed in different venues and traveled the country as they circled around the small dance floor. Conversation designed to impress a small-town girl. He’d asked her to dinner tomorrow but she’d turned him down. Tomorrow night was too late. Tomorrow afternoon she turned back into a mom. Once that happened, she couldn’t plan any further ahead. “We’re going to have a blast this weekend. First thing tomorrow

we’ll get saloon girl costumes for the parade. Then we’ll head over to the rodeo grounds.” Barb shot Lizzie an evil grin. “Maybe we’ll get lucky.” “Tomorrow I’ll be back in mom mode for a while when JR and Dad come in for the parade.” Lizzie watched the revelers walk from one bar to the next as though they were looking for something. But looking for what? Someone special? A missing lover? Or just a better time than the one

they were already having? Once she’d been part of that crowd. A cowgirl out for fun, rocking the standard uniform of boots, tight jeans, and a tighter T-shirt. She and Barb had been among the party crowd, the rodeo revelers, for a year after they’d graduated high school. Then Lizzie’s life had changed. Twice. Now she focused on other things. Like JR. And like making ends meet while she found handme-down clothing and bought

sufficient groceries to feed her constantly growing five-year-old. “Stop thinking and play with me. It’s been too long since we’ve been out trolling the bars.” Barb reached over and pulled Lizzie into a hug. “I’ve missed my friend.” Lizzie looked at her, trying to hold back the envy she felt. Barb lived at least a portion of the life Lizzie had planned for herself. Building a career she loved. The Blackberry back at the condo had buzzed so often while they were

eating dinner that Barb had finally tossed it from the table announcing she was off the clock. Barb Carico had been her best friend since they shared finger paints in first grade. Barb’s long red curly hair had been the exact opposite of Lizzie’s dark straight pixie. The girls were complete opposites, except for one thing. They both loved horses. In high school, Barb had been rodeo queen one year, Lizzie the next. They’d traded the title back and forth right

up to the year they both left town, Barb heading off to Boise and Lizzie for school in Portland. “I’ve missed you, too,” Lizzie told her now. “But I’m not the one running around the country managing all these rodeos.” Lizzie leaned back. Despite a few twinges now and then, she loved her life with JR. Still, she couldn’t help asking, “What’s it like making cowboys do your bidding?” “Like wrangling cats. I swear some of these guys still think they

are in Mrs. Stewart’s homeroom, throwing spitballs. Seriously, do guys ever grow up?” “Sounds like you have some stories to tell.” Lizzie laughed. “Do you see any of our old crew?” Barb’s face froze. “Liz, I thought you knew. Oh, crap. I would have told you, but seriously, I thought you’d know.” Lizzie’s heart pounded. “Stop. Breathe. Now tell me what you thought I knew.”

“Jesse’s riding tomorrow,” Barb blurted out. “So, I hope he wins. I knew he still competed. What’s the big deal?” Lizzie stared at her friend, confused. “James manages his career now. He’s here, Liz. James is in Shawnee this weekend.” ••• James Ray Sullivan couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Lizzie — sitting in the stands next to her best friend.

Exactly like the last time he’d seen her six years ago. Rodeo weekend might as well be the Shawnee High School reunion. Everyone came back for the event. He’d told Jesse the rodeo prize money wasn’t worth the trip down memory lane. Hell, they were missing Cheyenne Gold to be here. Even if Jesse won, the pot wouldn’t cover their expenses. Being in town meant he had to deal with running into people who’d known him when. People like Lizzie. He thought he’d put

Shawnee in the past when he and Jesse hitched up that old Dodge Ram truck to the double horse trailer that summer and left. But the first weekend in May was a rodeo tradition here in Shawnee. And now, he stood on the street, staring at his worst fear. Lizzie. James swallowed hard; his heart started to thud. “Wow.” A shiver ran through him. Even after six years and, thousands of miles, and more emotions than he ever

could count, she still got to him. Just seeing her from a distance and he felt like his old self, a puppy dog carrying her books to class. How they’d stand in the hallway, wanting one more minute. He guessed his teenage self must have somehow known to grab all the time it could get because when all was said and done, they were not meant to be. A slap on the back brought him back to reality. Jesse pushed him out of the bar doorway and down the street.

“Dude, we need to talk.” Jesse’s voice broke the silence. “After the rodeo, I’m going to … .” Jesse stood in front of James, demanding his brother’s attention as always. “Hey, earth to James, are you listening?” “Sorry. Being home messes with your head, you know?” James headed right down the street and away from the girl he’d worshiped. “What did you want to talk about?” “I thought we were going to River’s End? How come you’re headed the opposite way?” Jesse

scanned the street scene and stopped when he caught sight of James’s ex. “No wonder. Lizzie looks as good as she did in high school, bro.” “Lizzie? Where?” James tried to cover his tracks. “You’re not fooling me. She’s over there with wild Barbie. Let’s go say hello, shall we?” Jesse pulled his brother across the street, dodging a wayward traveler who’d decided to drive the highway to north Idaho on the wrong night.

“I don’t think this is a good idea. She hates me,” James whispered at Jesse. Once they hit the sidewalk he tried to turn his brother into the little bar instead. “Let’s get a tequila shot. I’ll buy.” Jesse snorted. “You’ll buy when you’re the one trying to keep me dry? Good try. We’re heading up the stands. Evening, ladies,” he called up to Lizzie and Barb, who had been watching the brothers make their way across the street. “My, don’t

you look lovely tonight. Can we purchase you an adult beverage?” “I have one,” Lizzie quickly answered only to get an elbow in her side. “You sure can.” Barb waved the men closer. “I don’t want to do this.” Lizzie glared at her friend and stood. “I’ll get the beers.” Barb pulled her back down on the riser. “James, come up here and keep Lizzie company while I make sure your brother brings the drinks

back out. He’s been known to disappear.” Barb took the stairs two at a time, jumping the last one to land next to Jesse. Together the duo headed to the bar, turning to look back once at James and Lizzie. “Go ahead, James, I don’t think she bites,” Jesse called to his brother. “Hard,” Barb added and then the two broke into laughter as they disappeared into the crowded bar.

James stepped up the stands, his cowboy boots clicking on the hard metal. Each step brought him closer to the woman who had told him to die a slow and painful death the last time they’d spoken. Swallowing back a sense of unease, he took the last step on the riser. He could do this. He owed her at least an explanation why of he’d left without a word — not even a goodbye. Slipping in next to her, he leaned back, not looking at her,

asked. “How’ve you been?” She shrugged without looking at him. “I’ve been good. More than good.” James listened to the tone of her words. She had left something unsaid, but he had to expect that. They hadn’t spoken in six years. Her perfume, the same sweet floral she’d worn when they dated seeped into his pores. His fingers ached to reach over and pull her close. God, he hadn’t even realized he’d missed her. Hadn’t allowed himself to.

“You down from Portland?” James searched the night sky for signs of stars. The valley was so closed in and narrow, the stars wouldn’t show until later in the evening. He searched for them anyway so he didn’t have to look at her. Sitting next to her brought back all the feelings he thought he’d thrown away when he left. “I’m home. I live with Dad. Mom passed eighteen months ago.” Lizzie stopped short. Again, James got the feeling there was something

more. He felt her turn and look at him. “So you’re running still with Jesse? Rodeo manager?” Nice way to change the subject. Lizzie could give a rat’s ass about Jesse. He’d been the subject of many of their fights when they were dating. She’d made it especially clear that last night. She thought Jesse was trouble. “I try to keep him in line. Setting up his rides, cutting off the alcohol, making the travel

arrangements, and handling the money.” “No wonder you and Jesse never got married. You’re perfect for each other.” Lizzie’s words were hurt and sarcastic. “Can we get through one conversation without fighting?” He turned and looked at her, surprised to see tears forming in her eyes. “Hey, don’t cry.” It was high school all over. When she cried, and if he could, he had to do something

about it. “Please don’t cry. I’ll start over.” Taking a deep breath, he turned away for a second then turned back. “Hey, Liz, it’s great to see you. I’ve missed you.” He saw her relax for a second. Then she froze again. She inched away from him on the metal riser, wiping the tears from her cheeks. “It’s very nice to see you, too. What have you been doing besides running Jesse’s career and keeping him out of jail?”

Ouch. James winced. She couldn’t quit, could she? But the question hit closer to home than he cared to admit. He’d had to buy Jesse’s way out of a few scrapes. Towns Lizzie had never heard of, so how could she know — unless she was fishing. Trying to get James to admit his brother was a royal screw up, just like she’d said and same as he’d always been. “I bought a place near Idaho City where we winter,” James cut to the question’s answer, ignoring

what he didn’t want to think about, same as always. “It’s got a great horse setup, including a breeding barn. You still ride?” “Not as often as I’d like. I’m pretty busy around the place. Dad’s not … well, he’s not himself. I handle most of the chores.” “I could stop by this weekend. Help get the place set for the summer, clean out the cabins, check the springs.” James brightened. A little manual labor would help him clear out the

craziness that came with managing Jesse lately. Help get himself focused. “I can handle the chores myself. I don’t need help.” Even to her Lizzie’s voice sounded loud and sharp. She grimaced. “Don’t get all frazzled. I only offered. You always did want to handle everything on your own.” James tried to force her hand. “I know how hard things have been for you, Lizzie. I’ve heard all about —”

“Who told?” She didn’t let him finish before jumping on him. “I swear if Barb blabbed to Jesse, I’m going to cut her hair off. That girl could never keep her mouth shut over other people’s business.” Lizzie scanned the open doorway of the bar, looking for Barb to grab and murder, James guessed. When she didn’t see what she wanted, Lizzie turned to him, her face taut. “I know you’re mad. And you have a right to be. I didn’t know how to tell

you at first. Then time passed and it seemed like it was too late.” “Hold on, I’m not following you. What did you want to tell me?” James caught and held Lizzie’s hands. When she didn’t answer, he squeezed. “Lizzie?” ••• Time seemed to stand still. The breath flushed out of her. Heart pounding, she stared at James. Idiot! He doesn’t know and you almost told him.

Turning away, Lizzie scanned the street, looking for a distraction. She had never lied well. Not as a kid to her parents, and she’d never once been able to lie to James’s face. Not even when it was for the best. Lies of omission because of absence didn’t count. Her hands were shaking and she knew it wasn’t the cold. She pulled them into herself, hoping to make them stop. “I told you. I moved back here. I didn’t want you to laugh because all my big plans

turned out to be pipe dreams.” Lizzie glanced up at the carved, angular features that were ready for a shave even though he’d probably already shaved early that morning. She wanted to reach out and caress his face, the face she saw every morning now without the beard stubble. JR’s face. “That’s not what you were going to say. I’m not stupid, Lizzie.” “You two look like old times.” Timing perfect as ever, Jesse banged his way up the metal steps

toward them. “Still fighting I see.” He handed a longneck bottle to each of them. “Give me your empties.” Thank God for Jesse. Lizzie finished off her warm beer in two gulps and handed the bottle to Jesse, who promptly threw it off the stands. “Hey,” she protested before a crash of bottle on bottle reached them, proof Jesse had hit the open dumpster between the parade stand and the bar.

“What, you thought I’d miss? Captain of the basketball team, four years straight?” Jesse grinned down at her. “Shawnee’s a small school.” Lizzie shook her head. This had been the routine for the four of them every first weekend of May since she could remember. Junior year, Jesse talked his dad into stocking the cooler they kept in the back of the pickup. Then his dad had confiscated the truck keys until Monday morning. The man

wouldn’t deny his favorite son much, but he wasn’t stupid. Jesse grinned. “So now what? A trip down memory lane? Or do you two girls want to dance? There’s a band starting up down at the park. Jimmy Lee and the Blue Jays.” Jesse always knew where the best parties were. Even after being out of town for years, he still had the pulse of the party. James tried to brush Jesse away. “We’re talking. Give us ten minutes.”

Lizzie stood up. “Why wait? Let’s go now. We can catch up later.” “I always knew you were the fun one.” Jesse took Lizzie’s hand on one side and Barb’s hand on the other. “Ladies, let’s boogie.” Lizzie glanced over her shoulder back at James, his dark eyes focused on her. “Come on, James.” “We will talk about this,” he grumbled as he followed the group

down the metal stairs and onto the sidewalk. That’s what I’m afraid of, Lizzie’s rigid back told him. Jaw set, James hurried to catch her up. As they walked toward the river park, the beat of the jukebox rocking River’s End faded. Lizzie could hear a hoot owl calling across the river and the gentle lapping of the river against the bank. The river nicknamed The River of No Return because of the sharp and narrow canyons the water carved through

the mountains. But in town, the water slipped quietly through the narrow channel giving the local kids a place to swim. “I’d forgotten how quiet it is here.” James voice came from behind. Lizzie kept her hand in Jesse’s, but turned to look at James. “I know. Portland’s nice, and it’s close to the Columbia, but there’s nothing like this.” James matched his steps to hers. “Sorry I pushed back there. I

really just wanted you to know if there’s ever anything you need, you can call me.” Lizzie’s throat caught. She couldn’t call without first asking him for his phone number. And then — Well, how did you tell someone he had a five-year-old son? She shook her head. Five-and-a-half years ago when she’d arrived home from Portland pregnant, her mom had been clear. Lizzie could choose security for herself and her baby at

home with them or a life on the road with James and Jesse. Now there was just her, JR, and her dad. And lately, none of it felt terribly secure. “Thanks for the offer. I appreciate it.” “No problem.” James nodded to a table near the edge of the park. “Looks like we’ve got the last table.” When they reached it, Lizzie slipped onto the wooden bench plank. To commemorate Shawnee’s timber town roots, the local lumber mill had donated the park and all

the landscaping. The table was rough-cut wood rather than the typical mass produced redwood in the nearby national parks. “Ready for another beer?” Jesse stood next to her. “Barbs and I will get them. You two sit and finish whatever it was you were talking about before.” “Seriously, Jesse, I didn’t come here to talk. I thought we were dancing?” Lizzie’s glance went from Barb to Jesse, hoping one of them

would show pity and help her out of this mess. “I’m kind of thirsty.” Jesse grinned. “Sit down and claim the table for us. We can dance later.” He grabbed Barb by the arm and almost skipped in the direction of the beer tent. Lizzie shook her head. “I didn’t think Jesse liked me. And here he is getting me a beer, leaving us to talk. He would never have stood for this our last summer together. Remember how we had to push-

start the truck so he wouldn’t hear us leave the house?” James snorted. “He’d get so mad. And of course Dad took his side. Even though I paid most of the money for that old truck, Jesse thought it was his and his alone.” “What’s James’s is Jesse’s and what Jesse’s is Jesse’s. It’s the Sullivan way.” She paused, knowing she treaded on shaky ground. “So what’s it like working with him?” “Don’t you mean working for him?” James shot her a look of …

what? Distrust? Dissatisfaction? Lizzie couldn’t tell in the darkness. “You two have always been a team. Isn’t it that way now?” “Things have changed. I don’t know what’s going on. I can’t get him to commit to a schedule more than a couple weeks in advance. Usually by mid-April our entire summer’s planned. You know he’s won the championship in Vegas two years running. This year he’s got a shot at a third, but who knows with him. Something’s not right.” James

took off his black cowboy hat, running his fingers through his brown hair. He grinned. “I need a cut.” Lizzie brushed a piece of hair out of his eyes. “I always liked it longer. Remember when we braided it for the rodeo and your dad had a cow?” “What, you want to look like a girl?” James imitated his dad’s gruff voice. “He got hot.” Lizzie put her hand on his. She almost jerked back at the electricity

she felt. This was a mistake. She should be anywhere but here but she couldn’t leave. “I was sorry to hear about the accident. You doing okay?” “Dad made his peace with us a few weeks before it happened. He was driving to Cody to watch Jesse ride when the truck went into the river.” James’s head dropped, but his eyes sought out his brother. “Jesse blamed himself for a long time. We both knew Dad liked to

sip a little on his road trips. They found an empty flask in the cab.” Lizzie shut her eyes, feeling for him. “You can’t change people. They are who they are.” Opening her eyes, she found Jesse standing by the beer tent. A woman in new jeans, boots, and a bright pink satin shirt hung on his arm. Barb sat with a different group, but Lizzie saw her watching Jesse and the woman, too. “Who’s the buckle bunny with Jesse? She’s a little old for the rodeo scene, isn’t she?”

James’s head popped up from watching her hand rest on top of his. “Where?” “Over by the beer garden.” Lizzie pointed. “The bleached blonde. Don’t tell me you can’t see her. That outfit outshines the lights strung around the park.” James swore under his breath. “I can’t believe she had the nerve to show up here.” He stood up and pulled out his wallet. “Lizzie, I’ve got to go.” He gave her a business card. “Call me tomorrow and we’ll

get together for breakfast. We need to talk.” Holding onto the card by its edges, Lizzie cringed mentally. Buddy, you don’t know the half of it. Aloud she asked, “Where are you going?” “I need to talk to Jesse.” James leaned down and closed her hand over the card. “Seriously, call me. I need to talk to you.” “Sure, but Jesse’s rescue comes first.” The hurt that rose over James choosing his brother instead of her

six years ago got away from her before she could stop it. She’d been right. Rodeo weekend still made her feel like high school. Alone and disappointed. Second choice to Jesse. Like she’d always been an afterthought in James’s life and always would be one. At least this time, James hadn’t left her pregnant and alone when he went off after his brother.

CHAPTER TWO “Wake up, sleepyhead. Let’s get down to The Pancake House before they run out of huckleberry pancakes.” Barb’s voice came through the condo’s bedroom door where Lizzie curled into a fetal position in the huge, soft bed. Like she was the princess and Barbara was the nagging pea. If the nagging pea would only go away, she wouldn’t even need a hundred

mattresses to be comfortable. This one was heaven. With the heavy down comforter pulled over her, Lizzie didn’t want to move. She didn’t want her short vacation from Mom Land to end. Not this fast. But the sun shone and Barb was hungry. In a few hours, JR would be chatting her ear off, telling her all about the parade and what he and Gramps had been up to while she’d lounged the morning away.

And then she had to think about James. She reached over and picked up his business card. She’d stared at it for hours last night, unable to sleep. Why call? she asked herself. He left you. Why call him and give him the chance to do it again? “Why indeed?” Lizzie asked the empty room. “Did you say something?” Barb called from the bathroom. “Nope,” Lizzie called back.

“Do you mind if I shower first?” Barb poked her head into the small bedroom. “I can’t believe you’re still in bed.” “I’m relaxing. Go ahead.” Lizzie snuggled under the comforter. She had five, maybe ten minutes. Barb took short showers. Forty-five minutes later when they arrived, The Pancake House was packed. Barb eased her SUV into a spot near the back of the lot. Once they were in the building, they waited in line for a table. The smell

of maple syrup permeated the lobby, making Lizzie’s stomach growl. Glancing around the packed dining room, Lizzie didn’t recognize any faces. The town regulars must have stayed home this morning, unwilling to share their favorite eating spot with strangers. Cash, the owner, waved at the two women from behind the register. “Long time no see, Barb.” He kissed Lizzie on the cheek. Cash had graduated a year ahead of Lizzie. Team quarterback, he’d gone

on to play college ball then had a short stint in the NFL before he blew out his knee. After that he’d come home to run the family business. “Barb, you need to tell this woman to accept my undying love and marry me.” Cash came over to give each woman a hug. “We’ve dated for so long, I’ve forgotten why she hasn’t.” “Have you ever actually asked her?” Barb responded tartly and grinned. “Besides, Cash, if I could

convince Lizzie of anything, it sure wouldn’t be wasted on her marrying a has-been football player.” She shuddered. “Who’d want a husband who looks like he should be surfing and has better hair than most of the women in town?” “So true. Everyone is jealous of my golden locks. Liz, the high school is doing Grease for their end of year musical. We on for it next weekend?” Cash gave Lizzie a look that bordered on pleading.

Lizzie knew that for Cash, part of being a small town business owner and local football hero was that people expected you to sponsor things and show up places. That meant needing a pretty date on your arm if you didn’t have a wife and family to show off. Lizzie had played arm candy for him for years — and enjoyed it. But — However nice a guy he was, and however much they enjoyed themselves together, there was no

real heat between them. So Lizzie had kept it casual. Still. She looked at him. Cash was a good man, and he was here, he wasn’t going anywhere. He’d demonstrated that time and again. So maybe it was time to take their dating to the next level. JR liked Cash and he needed a positive role model in his life. On the other hand, when Lizzie tried to imagine her life with Cash, all she saw was another responsibility. One where she instinctively knew she’d spend

her early mornings as hostess at the restaurant then head home to run the cabin rentals for the rest of the day. And night. Her thoughts were interrupted by a deep voice behind her, “Maybe she doesn’t want to be tied to another job, Cash. If you want a new employee, hire one, don’t marry one.” She turned to see James standing behind her, shocked he’d

said out loud what she’d been thinking. “Hey, I wasn’t thinking about the business.” Cash grimaced. “Well, much.” He gave James a bear hug. “Man, I heard you and Jesse were home. Hoped we’d see you before you took off for the lights of Vegas.” “More like the back roads of South Dakota. Jesse’s riding in the Black Hills Invitational next weekend.” He nodded down at Lizzie. “I guess I missed your call.”

Stumbling over her words, she blurted, “I guess.” Darn it, why did she let him make her feel guilty and uncomfortable when she’d done nothing wrong? Barb shot a glance between Lizzie and James. “Maybe I should check on the schedule for today?” “Yes,” James said. “No,” Lizzie shot back. She grabbed Barb’s arm. “We came for breakfast. We’ll add one more to the table. Cash, can you seat us?”

Cash raised his eyebrows as he met James’s glare. “Sure, we’ve got a table to fit all of you.” He grabbed some menus and walked into the dining room directly to the last booth on the wall of windows. “Callie will be right with you. Great seeing you, James. Maybe we can grab a beer later?” James nodded as he slipped into the booth. “Sure. We’ll see you tonight.” “After Jesse kicks butt at the rodeo tomorrow, the two of you will

be ready to celebrate.” Cash waved and walked back to the front. Lizzie watched him stop to chat with the other tables. “How is everything? Can I get you more coffee?” Cash had a natural skill for making people feel at home and his business thrived because of it. Dating Cash was simple and comfortable, unlike dating James. She snuck a glance across the table. James watched her. So did Barb. “What?”

“Earth to Lizzie … what were you thinking about?” James watched her face; he always did. “Nothing,” Lizzie lied, not caring if James could tell. “Yeah, right.” James glanced over at Cash, clearing a nearby table for more diners. “I can tell it’s nothing.” “Get to the point James, what did you want to talk about?” Lizzie was tired of playing games. She wanted breakfast and time to walk down to the rodeo grounds before

the parade started. Dragging this thing out with James might have been fun when they were teenagers, but now it only made her realize how much she’d missed looking into those brown eyes and being close to him. The man put off heat like a wood stove. Even now she could feel the heat rising from his body, warming her legs under the table. James glanced at Barb. “Listen, I know you want me stay, Lizzie, but I’m going to leave.”

Barb stood up. “Thanks,” James nodded. “But we haven’t even ordered. You were the one who wanted huckleberry pancakes,” Lizzie protested. “We’ll make plans for tomorrow morning before I leave.” Barb turned and walked away, not giving Lizzie a chance to argue. “You always were good at crowd control.” Lizzie stirred sugar into the coffee that the waitress had poured into her cup. Looking up at

the waiting girl, she ordered her breakfast. “Bacon, scrambled eggs, the house potatoes, and a short stack of huckleberry pancakes. And a glass of orange juice.” “I’ll take the same.” James chuckled as the waitress walked away. “You always could put away a good meal.” “How about we stop this small talk and get to the point. You save Jesse last night?” James leaned back after taking a sip from his coffee. “They were

gone by the time I got over there. The kid can take off pretty fast when he wants.” “Do you know the woman he was with?” James sat forward, his face hard. “I didn’t ask you here to talk about Jesse.” “No?” Lizzie sat forward belligerently and pushed the button. She didn’t have anything to lose. “We always talk about Jesse. What Jesse wants, where Jesse is,

how Jesse’s feeling. What else is there to talk about?” “It wasn’t that bad, was it?” How could he honestly not realize? “James, we didn’t even go to prom because Jesse got drunk beforehand and threw up on his date’s three hundred dollar dress and you had to fix things for him.” James grinned. “Yeah, but I remember we did something a lot better than dancing when I got back.”

Lizzie blushed. Sitting down by the river on a plaid blanket, the kissing had turned into more. That night had been their first attempt at making love. The waitress slid two plates of food in front of her, giving her a time to compose herself before she spoke. “And that’s what you want to talk about? One night on the river?” Lizzie’s words were as harsh as her tone. But to keep James at a distance in order to protect JR, she needed to be harsh. She took a bite

of cubed potatoes fried together with onions, bacon bits, ham, and green peppers, and covered with a handful of melted shredded cheddar. The flavor would have been heaven if not for James. “Hold on a second. You brought up prom night, not me.” He poured huckleberry syrup over his pancakes and passed it to her. “You want some of this?” “Of course. Breakfast in town’s a treat these days.” Lizzie watched

as he poured syrup over her stack. “Whoa, that’ll do.” “You always cried uncle first.” James grinned and reached over to grab her hand. Rubbing the palm with his thumb, he locked gazes with her. “I want to get to know you again. Look, I screwed up before. I admit it. I should have followed you to Portland and stood outside your dorm room until you gave up and talked to me. But I let Jesse pull me away.”

Lizzie tried to pull her hand away, but James tightened his grip. “Yes, you did.” “Stop, let me finish.” He waited for her to stop squirming and look at him. “I want to court you. I’ll admit, it will be long distance during the rodeo season, but I can fly back here at least once a month. And maybe you could come meet me a weekend or two.” Stunned, Lizzie stared at him, her food forgotten. James wanted to date her? Only one problem, JR.

When James found out about him, this entire conversation would be done. She knew how strongly James felt about family — about blood kin. Hadn’t he showed his cards many years ago when he’d chosen Jesse over her? Hadn’t he said it even, when he told her how he couldn’t even consider leaving Shawnee until Jesse graduated high school the year after them? On the other hand, now that she had the trump card in her hand, maybe James would be equally

determined to make their relationship work. Her lips twisted. Even if it shouldn’t. “My life is pretty complicated right now. Besides, how do you know I’m not with someone?” “Who? Cash? Don’t you think if you were serious you would have taken the next step?” James released her hand and cut into his short stack. “Just think about it Lizzie. We’re good together.” “Were good together, James. In high school, when we weren’t

fighting about Jesse. Maybe too much time has passed for us to recreate that — or even something better. Something new.” Lizzie froze as a thought hit her. If James could figure out her love life in the first twenty-four hours since he arrived in town, what chance did she have of keeping JR a secret? Especially when her dad planned on bringing JR to the parade. Trouble, this was trouble. She glanced around the crowded restaurant.

You’re playing with fire here, Lizzie. James barked out a laugh breaking into her thoughts. “Not if my dreams are any indication. I shouldn’t say this but I’ve thought of nothing but you since last night.” Lizzie stared at the man in front of her. The feelings he’d woken inside her last night reminded her of the woman she was. A woman she’d kept under wraps since that summer evening long ago when she realized she’d

never be first in his life. Jesse held the place with an iron fist. “It’s complicated,” she whispered, even as another part of her said, This is what you’ve been wanting. A father for JR. A partner for you. Panic struck her. What if James tried to take her son away from her? Suddenly feeling like breakfast would never stay down, she stood. “I’ve-I’ve… ” Clutching her stomach, she bolted.

“Lizzie?” James called after her. Once in front of the sink, she forced herself to calm down. Maybe James finding out about JR wouldn’t be the end of the world. And maybe JR could be convinced that a summer of visiting rodeos wasn’t better than a summer at home, gardening and working the cabins with his mom. Who was she kidding? Of course he would be convinced! Hell, she’d take a summer without chores if she had

the chance. No. Somehow she’d get through Sunday without James finding out and then she and JR would be safe. All they had to do was get through the weekend. Then the Sullivan brothers would be gone and her life would go back to normal. She nodded to the mirror. Keep James in the dark about JR. Nice, clean, simple. Good. She had a plan. On a deep breath, she left to return to the table —

Where she found Jesse sitting in her spot eating her untouched pancakes. Speak of the damned devil. “Good morning, Lizard.” Jesse smiled up at her. “Don’t call me Lizard. It’s Elizabeth to you.” She slipped into the booth next to James. Of course he was the devil she knew. She grabbed the fork from Jesse’s hands. “You know that’s my food, right?”

Grinning, Jesse nodded. “What James said, seemed like you weren’t feeling too well. Couldn’t let these beautiful things go to waste.” “Insufferable.” James leaned toward her. “Jesse’s right. Are you okay?” “Fine.” She glared at James. Jesse’s right. Jesse’s always right. Sighing, she gave in. She was too tired to fight this fight. All she had to do was keep James from

learning about JR before he left and everything would be back to normal. “Dude, let’s go check out the bulls. We need to talk.” Jesse pushed the plates of food at Lizzie and stood. She rose, too, to let James out of the booth. He put his hand on her arm, a question forming on his face. “I’ll see you at the parade?” “Sure, why not.”

James stood and pulled her close. “I don’t have to go with him. I’ll can stay so we can finish this.” “Right, you say no to Jesse?” She glared at him. “Go. I need some time to think anyway.” “You guys know I’m standing here and can hear you, right?” Jesse joked. “Jesse, shut up.” James leaned down, put his lips near Lizzie’s ear. She jerked away and slipped back into her seat. “I’ll see you at the parade.”

“I’ll see you at the parade then.” James walked away but not before Lizzie heard Jesse’s parting shot, “Man, what’s got her goat?” Cash brought over the coffee pot and filled her cup. “Walking through the past is a pain, isn’t it?” She laughed bitterly. “You have no idea.” “I might. More than you know. I do it every day.” Cash’s half-grin was bittersweet. “You want me to tell him to back off? That we’re

serious? I can be that guy, Lizzie. I want to.” Lizzie looked hard at him, tempted. Then she shook her head. “Thanks, Cash, but no. It’s gotta be done, I’m going to do it without that kind of help.” “So you know, the offer stands.” Cash smiled. “Now come on and let me put a smile back on your pretty face. Dinner and the play. I’ll buy ice cream.” Lizzie pursed her lips. A week from now this emotional crisis

would be a memory, James and the rodeo would be history and the world as she lived it would again be right side up. What did she have to lose? “Sure. Call me this week and we’ll finalize plans.” For some reason as Cash walked away her mom’s favorite quote kept coming into her head: The devil you know, Lizzie, the devil you know. Sucking in a breath, she pulled out her cell phone. Speaking of devils, how was she going to keep

JR home and out of sight for the two days before James would be on his way to Sioux Falls? The answering machine picked up her call. “Hey guys, pick up.” She waited for a few seconds then left a brief message asking them to stay home. She didn’t hold out much hope they’d get it before they left for town, but she’d tried. She had even less hope of them actually listening to her plea if they did hear the message. Sighing, Lizzie signed for

the check and finished her coffee. It was time to find Barb and see if had any ideas on how to keep JR and James separated. There had to be a way. She uttered a silent prayer. God, I know liars never prosper and it’s breaking one of your commandments, but please help me keep my secret. ••• “Lizzie looks great.” Jesse sped toward the rodeo grounds. He

glanced over at his brother, slumped in the passenger seat. “Okay, I give, what’s up with you?” “Besides the fact I can’t get you to commit to a summer schedule? And the fact the one woman I could see spending my life with is here, in town, and I’m screwing it up again by catering to your every whim?” James could feel his neck getting hot under the collar of his western shirt. “Whoa, buddy. You make me sound like a needy old lady.” Jesse

grinned. His eyes were covered by another pair of the three hundred dollar sunglasses he bought and lost like cheap toys. “You are a needy old woman.” James shot back. He settled into the seat. This wasn’t Jesse’s fault. How could he prove to Lizzie how much he’d changed when he still let Jesse run him ragged every waking moment of the day? Jesse didn’t need him running his life. Time to make his own life. Whether here or the place he owned near Boise. But

he couldn’t keep running around like a teenager. He didn’t want to. Not when he remembered everything he’d wanted with Lizzie. “Sorry Jess, I have a lot on my mind.” “Like I said, Lizzie looks great. You’d think she was still Homecoming Queen. A lot of the girls we graduated with have kids and a few extra pounds. They look like moms. Not Lizzie. She looks amazing.” Jesse turned up the

radio, humming along with an old Garth Brooks song. “How do you know I’m thinking about Lizzie?” “Dude.” Jesse turned and lowered his sunglasses. “Seriously, did you see how hot she looked this morning in those Ropers? I can’t believe you could eat sitting next to that.” “You don’t need to be looking.” James slugged his brother. Lizzie always looked amazing — and damn it now the heat under his collar had

less to do with being pissed at Jesse and more to do with wanting Lizzie. The truck cab quieted for a few minutes. Jesse pulled the truck off the highway onto the dirt road leading up the hill to the rodeo grounds. Then — “Angie wants to spend some time with you.” Jesse’s comment came from nowhere. “I don’t even know why she’s here. I told her and I’ve told you, I’m not interested in a conversation or a relationship.” James grabbed

his hat as they parked, the dust still flying from the road. “Give her a chance, James. She wants to get to know us.” “Maybe she should have thought of that when she took off,” James bit out. Three months ago Jesse had returned from a night of carousing accompanied by the surprise of a lifetime: their runaway mother. “Angie,” as she called herself now, had apparently been following the rodeo circuit looking for them since she’d seen Jesse’s

name listed among the riders a season or so ago. Wanting to make amends. James shook his head. “Jesus, what were you thinking having her come here of all places?” “I thought it might be nice for all of us to be home together.” Jesse leaned over the hood of the truck. “Aren’t you even going to talk to her?” James glared at his brother. His world kept shifting under his feet and he hated being jerked

around. “This isn’t home. And no, I’m not.” “Well, I am. She’s part of our lives, like it or not.” Jesse shook his head. He slipped his black hat on his head while he walked, then tucked his thumbs in his front pockets. “Let’s go check out the stock. We can gab later. Jeez, and you call me an old woman.” Gritting his teeth, James followed his brother passed the stands. The rodeo arena was small, circled with stands on one side and

the staging area on the other. James saw more trucks and trailers parked back behind the corral in what appeared to be a pasture. People came from all over Idaho and the Northwest for this tiny rodeo, not for the pitiful prize money but for the prestige. This was the first rodeo of the season and the town put its heart and soul into making it a success. To James’s left a pen of sheep awaited the evening’s activities. The smell of dirt and hay hung in the

sun-filled corral. One small, blackfaced sheep stuck his head out between the rails, bleating at the brothers. “Too bad you’re too tall for mutton busting. You’d fit right in with those kids.” Jesse elbowed his brother, reaching to pet the sheep’s head. “If we’re going on emotional age, that’s more your competition,” James fired back. Both boys had started in mutton busting. Getting all dressed up, polishing their boots,

wearing new straw hats — they’d won the competition each year until they were too old to compete. By then, James had been working a cutting horse. Jesse had fallen in love with bull riding. He’d won Junior Champion too many years to count, then gone on to the hard stuff. Then James’s horse died and he didn’t have the heart to start training a new one. Soon after he’d become his brother’s biggest fan and assistant. Or, as Lizzie referred

to him, Jesse’s wife. Manager, wife, secretary, keeper — they were all the same difference, right? A young boy stood looking at the pen of sheep. Jesse headed toward the bullpen. “Are you coming?” he called back. “I’ll be there in a minute.” James knelt down next to the kid. He had a new straw hat. Staring at the sheep, James picked up a piece of straw and put it in his mouth like a toothpick.

The kid watched James and mirrored his actions. He, too, picked up a piece of straw and started chewing. James grinned. “You riding tonight?” “Yep.” “First time?” “Yep. Gramps bought me a new hat. He says I’m big enough.” “I rode at your age.” James laid his arms on the rails of the pen. “You did?” The boy cast a glance downward and away, kicking

the dirt with his toe before he asked, “Were you scared?” “Heck, yeah. I worried I’d fall. Then I was scared I’d make a fool of myself and bawl my eyes out.” James peered at the barn toward where his brother stood talking to group of men. “I didn’t want my brother to tease me.” “My mom doesn’t know. Gramps said it was our secret.” The kid bent his head towards one of the men talking to Jesse. “Do you

think it’s okay to have a secret from your mom?” “As long as it’s a good secret. Is she coming to the rodeo? Will she be here to watch you?” “Yep. Gramps says she’ll shit a brick when she sees me.” The boy grinned. “She probably will.” James laughed and held out his hand. “I’m James.” “I’m JR.” The boy shook his hand, stood up from his crouch and headed toward the men near Jesse.

Turning around, he called, “Are you going to the parade?” “Wouldn’t miss it.” “I’ll see you then. They throw lots of candy and you even get an ice cream cone at the end.” He waved and took off at a run. When he reached the crowd around Jesse, he grabbed an older man by the knees. Now that’s love. James felt his heart swell at the sight. He hadn’t been close to his father, but times like this, he

missed the old guy. His dad would never know the joy of grandchildren. JR’s gramps was a lucky man. James watched closer, trying to identify JR’s grandfather, but the man and boy were walking away. Hell, he’d probably met him sometime or other. He’d grown up here for God’s sake. Something about the man niggled at the edge of James’s mind. “James, can you help me with this saddle?” Bud Carpenter, an old friend, dragged what looked like all

the tack he owned through the middle of the barn. “Where are we going?” James grabbed one of the saddles throwing it over his shoulder. Bud had sponsored the rodeo club when the boys were in high school. From the looks of things, he still took an active part. “Don’t tell me you’re still riding?” “Out to the truck, where do you think? And what, you think I’m too old?” Bud offered him a grin that was missing two bottom teeth. “I’m

joshing you. My kid’s in the barrel racing. She’s pretty good.” “Of course she is. You probably had her training as soon as she could walk.” “Like you and your kid. Think he’ll be able to win the mutton bustin’ tonight? There are a lot of kids entered this year.” “My kid?” James blinked, confused for a second. Then he realized Bud must have seen him talking to JR. He lifted the saddle

into the back of the truck. “Oh, that’s not my kid.” “Could have fooled me.” Bud shook his head. “He looked exactly like you the first time your dad brought you here. You had the same look of fear.” “It’s like jumping into a cool river on a hot day. You never forget the shock.” James leaned on the truck and glanced back at the barn. “I don’t know how Jesse keeps going. I stopped competing years ago.”

“Maybe he’s waiting for you to say uncle and get out altogether?” Bud slapped James on the back. “It’s nice to have you boys home, even if it’s only for the weekend.” “I’ll see you tonight around town?” James started walking back to the barn to find Jesse. “I’ll be there. A cold beer will sound good after today.” Bud waved and got in his truck. James heard the truck chug to life as he walked through the cloud of dust and smoke Bud left in his

wake. The man never had a truck that ran worth a damn. Funny, Bud thinking JR was his kid. Sure the kid had brown hair and eyes like him, but seriously, so did half the population. “Where you been?” Jesse stood at the barn entrance, leaning against the oversized redwood door. “Helping Bud move some saddles.” James pointed after the faded red truck. “Ah.” Jesse turned. “Let’s get back to town. The parade starts in

an hour and Lizzie’s pancakes made me hungry.” The two men walked back through the stands to where they’d left the truck. “Hey,” James asked suddenly, “who were you talking to in the barn?” Jesse started and shot him glance then dug a hand into a pocked for his keys. Eyes on the ground he said, “Just some guys.” Seriously? Jesse was going to lie to him? “Who was the one with

the grandson?” Jesse unlocked the door and climbed into the cab. “A local. We were talking about the bulls.” “Does the local have a name?” James pressed. He loved seeing Jesse squirm, even on something as minor as this. For some reason, Jesse hadn’t wanted James to see him talking to the guy and now he was trying to weasel out of it. Jesse started the truck, ignoring the question. “Want to hit Daisy’s Café for lunch?”

“Sounds good.” James still couldn’t put a name with the old man’s face and it bugged him. His stomach growled. “Guess I’m hungrier than I thought. I hope they still serve those huge burgers and homemade onion rings.” “You lived on Daisy’s food senior year. That’s all you wanted when Dad asked where we were eating.” James snorted. He remembered. His father’s drinking escalated once their mom left while

the boys were in grade school. By the time the boys graduated high school, Dad had given up. He even came to their graduations sloshed, standing up with a drunken cheer when their names were called. “Good times,” he said quietly. “Hey, don’t get down. At least we had each other. You would have sat there all alone without a great brother like me.” “Yeah, and I probably wouldn’t have sat in Sheriff Colson’s jail after letting you talk me into going all

Willie Mayes on those mail boxes graduation night.” Jesse grinned. “We didn’t get arrested.” “No, but I had to spend the money I’d saved to buy five mailboxes and posts.” “Good thing you weren’t a better shot then.” Jesse pulled into the café’s parking lot. “Let’s eat.” James climbed out of the truck, shaking his head. Jesse’s life had always been an adventure. And following him meant James paid

the price. His thoughts went to the little boy by the mutton pen. At least he had one man in his life who gave a crap. James felt the kid’s dad should be the one calming him down before the big event — even though he knew having a dad around wasn’t always in the cards. Thinking about JR had opened a hole in his own heart. As he followed Jesse into the crowded café another thought beat in his head.

Maybe it was time to build a family. His own life.

CHAPTER THREE “Hurry and get dressed. The parade’s about to start,” Barb called from the bathroom where she’d been touching up her makeup for the last twenty minutes. Lizzie had found her friend sitting on a bench in the sunshine outside The Pancake House. Barb had eaten at Daisy’s a few doors down.

“Ahem, I am dressed.” Lizzie stood at the door of the bathroom and examining her tank top and jeans. “You’re not wearing that, are you?” “Why wouldn’t I wear jeans and a tank to a parade? You want me in my prom dress? I think it still fits.” “Smart ass. No, you need something with a little more pow. Maybe show a little leg. Wait a minute, I have something perfect.”

Barb disappeared into her bedroom. When she returned, she carried a sapphire blue sundress. “You want me to wear a dress?” Lizzie shook her head. “It’s a parade. A rodeo parade. Not a tea party.” “And these.” Barb held out some gladiator sandals. “You’ll look great.” At least the shoes were flats and not the hooker heels Barb usually wore. “And why do I want to look great?”

Barb shoved the dress and shoes into Lizzie’s arms. “To make James sorry he ever left town.” Lizzie had told Barb about dating Cash. Barb was supportive, but not for the reason Lizzie hoped. As far as Barb was concerned, every move needed to be about making James jealous. Maybe, Lizzie thought honestly, it was. Because just when she thought she’d erased all the old scripts from when the three of them ran together in high school, the

man showed up and it was like he’d only been gone a week the way she reacted. “Fine, I’ll wear the dress. But not because of James, I’m wearing it because it’s going to be hot outside.” She turned and headed to her bedroom. “Whatever you have to tell yourself to make you happy,” Barb called after her. The woman knew her too well. Lizzie glanced at her cell. No call yet from JR or Dad. Where were they?

Dad had said he planned to fix a leak in one of the pipes running water from the hot springs to the baths. He should have been done by now. She reached for the phone and tried one more time. Same result. The answering machine. She’d have to resign herself to the fact that JR was coming into town. And she had to find James and tell him the truth. Before someone else did. Glancing at herself in the mirror, she smoothed down the

sapphire skirt. It had been years since she’d dressed up for anything. God, she didn’t even think she had a dress in her closet. She brushed back her hair, curling it around her ear. Maybe she’d let it grow a little. Chin length would give her more chance to change things up than her current severe cut. Smiling at her reflection, she headed out to the living room. James had no idea what was coming. And payback was hell.

••• Standing on the crowded streets, James scanned the crowd, looking for Lizzie. Hell, he could lie to himself, but that’s what he was doing. Jesse had disappeared after lunch without a word. Meeting up with someone probably. James had long ago stopped keeping track of the string of girls Jesse went through in the course of a rodeo season.

His eyes fell on a little boy standing alone on the sidewalk. JR. Why was the kid alone? The streets were crowded with out-of-towners and the only adult he’d seen with the boy was his grandfather. ’Course, maybe he was visiting his grandparents for rodeo weekend while his parents were at home. Or in the bar. He walked over and knelt down. “There’s a couple of seats over on the stands, front row.”

JR startled then grinned. “Hey James. I told you I’d see you here. Grandpa says everyone from town comes to the parade. It’s a law.” “Well, I don’t want to break any laws around here.” James smiled and nodded at the stands. “Do you want to sit with me until your grandpa comes back?” JR bit his lip, considering James’s offer, then nodded. “I can do that. It’s not like you’re a stranger, we met before.”

“Good thought, though. You shouldn’t go anywhere with a stranger.” James stood up and walked to the risers. “Where is your grandpa?” JR nodded at the River’s End. “He’s in there talking to Mr. Davis about fish. Only grownups are allowed in there. It’s a law.” Anger rose with the memory of how many times James’s own father had left him and Jesse alone outside a bar. Maybe James should call child protection or something.

“You’re right. It’s a law. Were you scared, being alone?” “Heck, I wasn’t alone.” JR scanned the crowd and pointed to a woman nearby. “There’s Mrs. Henson, she’s my Sunday school teacher. And right there’s Mr. Fields. He’s the principal at my school. And Alice works at the grocery store. The whole street is full of people I know.” “I guess you’re right.” James grinned. The kid had his head on straight, he’d give him that.

“And then I saw you, my newest friend.” JR smiled up at him. “I’m pleased you think of me as a friend.” “My mom says I should never feel alone because someone I know is always close by, ready to help if I need them.” “Your mom sounds like a smart woman. Is she working today?” James planned on making a visit to the woman to let her know her kid was left alone outside a bar. JR

might feel safe in a town where he knew everyone, but this wasn’t 1960 and even longtime friends weren’t always who or what they seemed. And then there were the rodeo crowds that filled the street this weekend. Anything could happen. “Nope. She’s having a girl’s weekend with her friend. I’m not allowed to call until Sunday. Then we’ll go to the rodeo together.” JR paused. “But when she sees me ride, she’ll call me, right?”

“Maybe we’ll call her before you ride to make sure she’s watching.” Great, the woman was out partying and the man she left to babysit was sitting in a bar. More flashbacks from his childhood filtered through James’s mind. Yep, he was definitely calling child protection. Sooner than later. He glanced down at the kid. He didn’t even know JR’s last name. “Okay. When the parade starts, we can go back to the edge of the sidewalk, right?” JR glanced up at

him. “I don’t think I’ll get much candy back here.” “Yes, we’ll go back to the sidewalk when the parade starts. We’re resting here.” “My gramps rests a lot. My mom does the chores. She even lets me help sometimes.” James was amazed at how much information he’d gotten by being a little friendly. No wonder kids were taken so easily. Trust was too easily given at this age. He

needed to protect this little boy. “So, JR, what’s your last name?” But JR wasn’t listening. He stood up and climbed up on the riser. He waved his arm. “There she is. There’s my mom. I’m going to tell her to watch for me.” James looked across the street and froze. It couldn’t be. ••• Lizzie scanned the streets for JR and her dad. No luck yet. Maybe the pipe fix had taken longer and the

pair wouldn’t make the parade or the rodeo. A girl could only hope. She and Barb kept walking. “We’re almost at the end of the parade route. Where would your dad go?” Barb asked. “River’s End. But if he took JR into the bar, I’m going to skin him alive. I don’t ask him to do much.” She glanced across at the parade stands where she and Barb had sat right before the world shifted and James had walked back into her life.

A small hand waving caught her eye. Relief flooded through her. JR. Smiling, she waved back and started to cross the street — then froze. James sat beside JR and they were both staring at her. A horn blared and she skirted across the road. As she stepped onto the sidewalk, JR ran to her and hugged her legs. She leaned down and smoothed his hair, her eyes never leaving James’s face. “Mommy, you look like a girl.”

She smiled and glanced down at her son. The love of her life. “Thanks, JR. Where’s your grandpa?” “He’s in there talking to Mr. Davis. I’m waiting for the parade with James. Come meet him.” JR took her by the hand and led her over to the metal risers. “James, this is my mom. Mom, this is James.” James studied her silently. Finally he stood. “Actually, JR, your

mom and I went to high school together.” JR grinned. “See? I knew you weren’t a stranger.” A million thoughts went through Lizzie’s head. Discarding one after another, her stomach tightened. She had her opening. She could blurt it out. ‘JR, this is your dad.’ Or “James, meet your son.” Or even, “what a nice day for the parade.” What finally came out of her mouth was lame. Even she

knew she was being a coward. “We need to talk.” James grimaced. “That’s an understatement. Did you know he was out here alone?” Lizzie sighed. “My dad. He tries, but he has issues.” “So you leave your kid with a drunk in order to party with Barb?” James bit out, belatedly looking to make sure JR wasn’t listening only to see the little boy had walked to the sidewalk to watch for the start of the parade.

“I see the flags! It’s coming. The parade is coming.” JR danced around in a circle. “Come watch with me.” “James and I are right here,” Lizzie called back. “You stay on the sidewalk. One step off and I’ll take away all the candy you get and give it to a little boy who listens.” “Jeez, Mom, I know.” JR turned and sat on the sidewalk curb protecting his space for the parade. She turned to James. “You have no right questioning the way I’m

raising my son.” “Look, I’m sorry that came out wrong. He’s so young. It reminded me of when my dad used to leave me and Jesse to go into River’s End.” He sat down and held his head in his hands. “It’s only been overnight and this weekend has already been an emotional wreck. First, Jesse’s playing coy with me about the summer schedule then I run into you again and now all my dad issues are slapping me in the face.”

And the ride’s not over yet, Lizzie thought sadly. Her heart ached. James didn’t deserve this. She should have told him the moment she’d felt JR’s first kick. But she couldn’t rewrite history. All she could do was go forward and hope she was doing what was best for all of them. That meant telling James and JR the truth. She reached for James’s hand. “I need to tell you something.”

The marching band arrived at the stands where they sat. The band played a brass filled version of “Thriller.” JR danced on the sidewalk. Lizzie had taught him the steps during a power outage last winter when the ice storm made it too cold to play outside. James nodded to the impromptu dance audition. “He’s good. You always nailed that dance.” “Listen James, this is important.” Lizzie turned his face

towards her. “You’re missing the parade,” JR yelled from the sidewalk. “Come over here.” “We’ll be there in a second.” Lizzie focused on James. “Aren’t you wondering who JR’s dad is? How old he is?” “I figured it wasn’t my business, especially since he’s not here.” “JR’s dad is here, James. JR’s five.” Lizzie waiting for

comprehension, but only saw confusion. “Then why isn’t he here watching JR? Why do you have to rely on your dad?” James peered from her to JR and back. “Wait, he’s five?” “Six next February.” “We’ve been gone five years.” Uncertainty crossed his face. Lizzie sighed. She would have to say it. “James, JR is your son. I was pregnant when you left town with Jesse.”

“Mom, come on.” JR called again from the sidewalk. Lizzie stood up and headed toward her son. “I should have told you, but at first I didn’t know for sure.” “And waiting five years is so much better.” James rose and walked with her. “Can we not talk about this in front of him?” Lizzie pleaded. “When are we telling him? When he’s ten?”

“I won’t tell him anything if you can’t be there for him,” she said bluntly. “I mean, all these years, I didn’t even have a number to call so I could tell you. When you left, you were gone. But if you tell me you can commit to being there any time he needs you — ” She hesitated. “Then we can tell him after the parade. We’ll go over to the park and I’ll tell him.” Lizzie had imagined this day for years. Now the time was here, she dreaded it. How would JR react? He seemed to

like James, but in less than an hour, he’d have a father and an uncle. His family tree doubled with one sentence. “JR, James is your father.” Lizzie hoped James would do the right thing. Her head rang with questions and she felt like she throwing up. In all the times she’d imagined this scene, it had never been like this: wondering if James could manage to be part of JR’s life even if he hated her. This morning he’d asked to get to know her again.

Part of her life now was JR. Could he handle two for the price of one? Instantly she regretted telling him. Regretted not knowing which way the wind would blow for her or her son no matter what James said now. A hand tugged at her arm. “Mom, look, it’s the Rodeo Queen. She’s pretty, but not as pretty as you are.” She leaned down and hugged her son. “Thanks, buddy.”

James leaned over JR and whispered, “He’s right. You’re the best looking girl here.” She glanced at him, tears filling her eyes. “You’re not mad?” “Oh, I’m mad, confused, determined, and downright angry. But it doesn’t change my feelings for you.” He looked down at JR, back at her. “I told you if you needed anything to call me and I meant it. I still do in spades, but I need to wrap my head around what happens next.”

Emotions in a knot, Lizzie turned back to the parade. That was the question. What happened now? The world had shifted this weekend and she didn’t like instability. She stood at the edge of the sidewalk, watching the parade pass by and wondered when the next earthquake would strike.

CHAPTER FOUR Lizzie, James, and JR sat at a picnic table at the park — the same picnic table they’d claimed last night. Families milled around them having impromptu picnics while kids chased balls and dogs followed, barking. It was a scene from a Norman Rockwell painting until you got to their table. Lizzie had popped her head into River’s End to let her dad know

she had JR. He’d invited her in for a quick drink. Though she’d wanted to yell at him about leaving JR on his own, she’d simply waved and left. If the pattern he’d developed over the last year held true, he wouldn’t be home until Sunday night or Monday morning. Lizzie would cut her girls’ weekend short and head home after today’s rodeo. JR finished the ice cream bar provided by the local dairy farm at the end of the parade each year. James had turned his down and

Lizzie had scarfed down hers. What could she say, emotional eating queen. She took a deep breath, glanced at James for support then said, “JR, I need to tell you something.” JR watched a dog playing Frisbee with his owner. “Okay, but can I have a dog like that one?” “Maybe. Listen, you know how I told you your dad loved you but he was traveling and couldn’t be here?” “Yeah.” JR’s tone turned low. “Sandy says that’s code for he didn’t

want me.” “Well, Sandy’s wrong.” Unable to stop himself, James jumped into the conversation. “Who is Sandy, anyway?” “Sandy’s my best friend from Sunday School. He says — ” “Nothing you need to listen to.” Lizzie forcibly took back the reins of the conversation before it went way off track. “Because James is right, Sandy doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” As usual.

Sandy was a thorn in her side, always getting JR in trouble. The last stunt had cost Lizzie a new toilet for the church when the two had torn apart the insides of one during service to see how it worked. “Jeez, Mom, you don’t have to be mad about it.” “I’m not mad. Can you stop talking for a second while I tell you something?” JR slumped and crossed his arms. “O … k … a … y.”

This wasn’t going well. She’d thought about this day for five years, but now it was here, she was messing it up. Totally. “Your dad does travel a lot. But he’s here today.” “He is?” JR sat up and inspected the entire park, before focusing back on his mom. “Where?” “Right here, buddy,” James said carefully. “I’m your dad.” JR looked at Lizzie for confirmation.

“It’s true.” Heart pounding, she nodded. Breath held, she watched JR’s face for some kind of reaction. “So why haven’t you been here? Don’t you like kids?” JR examined James. “Were you in prison?” “What? No, I wasn’t in prison.” James raised his eyebrows at Lizzie for guidance. “Why would you ask about prison?” Lizzie, too, was surprised at the question. She’d never said

anything to lead JR into thinking James was a felon. Had she? “Sandy said if my dad didn’t show up it would be one of two reasons. He was dead or in prison,” JR responded. “You really need to stop hanging around Sandy.” Lizzie sighed. “James wasn’t around when you were little because — ” “Because I was helping your uncle win his bull riding championships,” James broke in. “Your mom and I had a

misunderstanding and I didn’t realize how important it would be to you and her for me to be here.” He glanced up at Lizzie. “But now I’ve met you, so I’ll be here a lot more often.” JR considered James’s explanation. “So you’ll take me fishing? And teach me to play baseball?” James laughed. “I guess I can do that. I haven’t fished for a while, though. You might already know more than I do.”

“I’m a pretty good fisherman. Maybe I can help you.” JR swung his legs back and forth. “I’m sure your dad would love that,” Lizzie assured him. She eyed James. “Before it happens James and I will need to talk and make some decisions on when you’ll see each other and stuff like that.” JR regarded his mom, confusion on his face. “I thought he’d move in with us and I’d see him all the time.”

Lizzie blanched. This was the one thing that hadn’t occurred to her to imagine JR would want. What could she say? “Where would he sleep? I’m sure James has his own house. And you know he travels with Uncle Jesse and the rodeo. He can’t be around Shawnee all the time.” “So you aren’t coming back for five more years?” Forlornly JR stuck his chin out. James reached over and put his hand on JR’s back. “I promise I’ll be

around a lot sooner than that. There are things I have to take care of like your Uncle Jesse’s rodeo schedule. Maybe one weekend you and your mom could meet us at a rodeo. Would you like that?” JR twisted his lips, clearly thinking. “I would like that. You have to promise me something.” Lizzie’s stomach tightened. What could her son want of the father he’d just met? “Anything,” James promised before he even heard the request.

This didn’t bode well. Fear gripped Lizzie as she prayed her son wouldn’t be disappointed. “You have to watch me ride tonight. I want to know if I’m as good as Uncle Jesse.” JR waved at someone over on the other side of the park. “Mom, there’s Sandy. Can I tell him about my dad? And how he’s not in prison?” Lizzie winced then sighed. What could it hurt after the whole town had seen the three of them together today. Church tomorrow

morning would be gossip heaven. “Fine,” she said. “But stay away from the river and come right back here as soon as I yell.” “Thanks, Mom.” JR jumped up, took five steps then stopped and turned around. “Bye, Dad.” James waved back with a choked, “Bye.” Lizzie saw him wipe his eyes. “Yeah, big man. Dad.” She wasn’t sure how she felt about the quickness with which JR had accepted him.

“I can’t believe he’s mine.” James grinned over at Lizzie. “Although I’m still mad as hell you kept this from me.” “Yeah, yeah, I’m sorry.” Lizzie saw disbelief on his craggy face. “No, really, I am. Sorry. There were lots of nights I wanted to call, but … .” She looked away. If she’d tried hard enough she could have gotten his number from someone. Barb, maybe. “I would have been there for you, Liz.” His voice was husky.

“But you weren’t. You were there for Jesse.” She held her hand up when James started to respond. “Don’t. We don’t need to fight this fight again. I want one thing from you now.” “Anything.” Lizzie shook her head. There he went, promising the moon again before he knew if he could deliver. “You make a promise to JR, you better keep your word. I won’t have you breaking his heart.”

“Lizzie, I’m not going to be an absentee dad. Not anymore. I’ll keep my promises.” James’s cell rang and he glanced at her, a nonverbal request. “Go ahead. Make sure you’re there for this mutton busting thing tonight. I could kill my dad for signing him up this year.” James grinned. “I’ll be there. And he’ll be the best cowboy out there. I know it.” He stood, taking the call, as he walked. “This is James.”

Uneasily, Lizzie watched him walk around talking to whoever was on the other end of the phone. What had she done? She hadn’t seen James in five years. Was he still the upstanding, honest, caring man she’d fallen for in high school? For JR’s sake, she hoped so. James came back toward the table and sat beside her. “Listen, I hate to leave, but Jesse hasn’t shown up for the pre-ride meeting. They’re threatening to disqualify

him if I can’t get him there in an hour.” Typical Jesse, the only man who never thought the rules meant him. “Go ahead. We’re going to check on dad then we’ll be heading to the rodeo grounds.” He rubbed her cheek. “Thanks, Lizzie. He’s a great kid.” “You’re welcome. Mutton busting is the first thing on the schedule. Make sure you’re there by five. He’ll be looking for you.”

“Come hell or high water,” James affirmed. Torn between a sense of hope and one of impending disaster, Lizzie looked after him. Hurricane Jesse better not cause flooding tonight, mister. ••• The hotel room was empty. Jesse’s truck sat parked outside the room in the same spot where they’d left it after lunch at Daisy’s café. When James left for the parade, Jesse

stayed on the bed, watching the sports channel. James should have known something was up by his brother’s casual response. “I’ll meet you there bro. I want to relax for a few minutes.” Relax, my butt. Jesse’d probably hooked up with some chick and blown off the rodeo. It wouldn’t be the first time, James thought bitterly. Jesse didn’t have a reputation for consistency in the industry. Lately it was affecting the venues that would accept his

application to ride. Rodeo sponsors couldn’t highlight riders who didn’t show for their rides even if they were two time champions. James had been able to calm Jesse’s major sponsors, but it meant putting Jesse on a tight leash — one set to choke him if he started this crap up again. The rodeo world was too small for Jesse to even blow off a local competition without causing ripples. His sponsors paid for the trips, the clothes, and a salary for both brothers. Not showing up

would be a breach of contract, which could mean having to claw their way to Vegas for the championships without sponsorships or money. James had to find his brother. He only hoped he could find Jesse sober within the hour. James headed to the lobby. After an exchange of pleasantries with the young, blonde receptionist, he asked about Jesse only to be told he’d left an hour ago.

James grimaced. “Did he say where he was going? Was he with anyone?” The girl shook her head. “He didn’t say where he was going, but he was with this older lady looked like she thought she was still a rodeo queen. Wore a pink hat with a tiara on the front.” James ground his teeth. Damn it. “Angie.” “Yeah, that was her name. She had it plastered on her butt in

rhinestones. Do you want to leave a message for him?” Yeah, just not one I can say in polite company. “Only if he shows up in the next hour. Tell him he’s missing the rider’s meeting.” James slapped the counter. “Thanks.” The girl nodded. “I hope you find your brother in time.” “Me too,” James said as he walked out the door. So, he took off with Angie.

James jumped into the truck and cranked the engine. He’d need to cover ground fast to check all the bars and restaurants and get back to the rodeo grounds with his wayward brother in time. Fifty-five minutes later, after walking through the entire town, including the quilt show at the high school and the grocery store, James gave up. He drove to the rodeo grounds and stood at the bull pen, no Jesse in sight. Wherever his brother had gone, he’d hidden his

tracks well. And from what the hotel receptionist said, Angie should be easy to spot in that outfit. He took off his hat, running his fingers through his hair. “Damn it, Jesse.” James threw his hat on the ground. He was done. If Jesse wanted to play these games, he could manage his own career. James had other people to worry about. A pair of booted feet appeared in James’s range of sight and Jesse picked up James’s hat and brushed

it off. “You shouldn’t throw around your hat like that. You’ll break the brim.” James grabbed the hat. “Where have you been? They’ve disqualified you from riding. All your fees are forfeit and you might as well forget about the country store endorsement. Those sponsors didn’t drive all the way up here from Salt Lake to see the other riders. They came to see you.” “Calm down. I’ve already made nice with the committee. I’m

scheduled to ride tomorrow at two. And yes, I’ll be there.” Jesse slapped his brother on the back. “You worry too much.” “Jesse, sometimes, you … .” Jesse held out his hand. “Hold up, they’re announcing your competition.” “What are you talking about?” “It’s mutton busting time. Aren’t you riding?” Jesse deadpanned. “It started already? I’ve got to go.” His first promise as a father

and he’d already messed up. James took off toward the staging area. “Hey, I was joshing. I don’t think they’ll let you ride,” Jesse called after him. James pushed through the milling cowboys waiting for the team roping competition. He got to the corral as the sheep and their riders were released. He searched the crowd of kids and sheep for JR. There, there was the straw hat. He was still on the sucker.

“Hold on, JR. You can do this,” he yelled, even though he knew JR would never hear him over the roar of the crowd. He’d been in the middle of that madhouse. But he yelled just the same. The flock had already lost most of their riders; still three young boys and a girl were going strong. One by one, the other kids were thrown or slipped off their sheep, leaving JR and the girl. One more spin around the corral. James saw JR’s face, wearing a look of

determination and a smile. The girl was slipping. All of a sudden JR was the last man standing. A rodeo clown stepped in front of JR and his sheep and pulled him off, swinging him up to his shoulder. “We have a winner. JR Hudson, a local boy, is the mutton bustin’ champion. This kid held on with determination. His folks might have an up and coming bull rider on their hands. Now we’ve got all the sheep penned up, let’s get the team roping started.”

James took off at a run to find JR and Lizzie. He found them as they were leaving the staging area, a small trophy gripped in the little boy’s hands. JR saw him first. “James! I mean, Dad. Did you see me ride? I held on like Gramps said. And they gave me this.” He shoved the trophy into James hands. “I saw you, buddy. Did you hear me cheering for you?” James crouched in front of JR. Emotions swept him. How could he be so

attached already? He grinned at Lizzie, surprised to see dark clouds on her face. What had he done now? “ — and the announcer said I could be a bull rider,” JR continued excitedly. “Do you think Uncle Jesse would teach me? Maybe tomorrow after he rides?” JR looked up at James, his face alight with happiness. “Maybe. First we have to introduce you to your uncle. He’s going to be surprised. This is nice.

You’ll have to take it for show and tell for school.” James handed the trophy back. Standing up he nodded to Lizzie. “You okay?” “Fine. I wish you would have been here like you said.” Accusation filled her voice. Confused, James shot back, “I am here.” “Now. Now that the hand holding and hard part is done.” She leaned closer, whispering so JR wouldn’t hear, “He needed you before the ride, too. That’s when he

was scared and wanting a man to tell him it would be all right. But both you and my father were somewhere else. That left JR alone when he needed you.” Anger seethed through James. “He wasn’t alone. He had you.” She shook her head. “No. I’m not the father he just met who promised to be here then broke that promise to chase his grownup brother. I’m not the grandfather who taught him to mutton bust in the first place when I wanted him to

wait another year then deserted him to be who knows where when the time actually came to ride. I’m not a man, and that’s what he needed. No, James, I told you. You make a promise to my son, you keep it. Period.” “That’s not fair.” James glanced over at JR, intently watching the team ropers. Or at least pretending to watch. James figured JR was listening to the exchange between him and Lizzie. And trying not to take sides. “I didn’t get the memo

on my being a dad until what, five hours ago? And now you’re rating my performance on timing?” “Not getting the memo didn’t stop you from making a promise you shouldn’t have made if you weren’t going to keep it, James.” Lizzie puffed out an angry breath. “I should have known when you had to make a choice it wouldn’t go in our favor. Jesse has always been top on your list. I was a fool to tell you anything.”

“The only mistake you made was not telling me sooner. You never let me make a choice. You made it for me.” Before Lizzie could retort, a male voice from behind them said, “JR, hey buddy, was that you out there?” “Cash!” JR jumped towards the new man. “Did you see me? I was the best, the clown even said.” “If I’d known you were riding, I would have been down here earlier,

getting you pumped up.” Cash hugged the little boy. Lizzie shot a look at James. La-tee-dah, James thought grumpily. Cash would have been the perfect parent. Then, because he couldn’t help it, but not on my watch. “That’s okay, Mom was here. Gramps was stuck talking to Mr. Davis.” JR kicked the dirt with the toe of his boot. “I think this calls for a celebration,” Cash told him. “I have

a gallon of vanilla ice cream over at the restaurant for special occasions. And this seems like a special occasion if I ever saw one. Maybe a huckleberry sundae? Or are you a shake man?” “Sundae. No, shake.” JR looked up at his mother. “Can I have both?” “You can have one and only after you eat something for dinner.” Lizzie pulled down the cowboy hat over JR’s eyes.

Cash nodded at James. “You’re welcome, of course. And Jesse, too.” “I’d like that. But Jesse’s a little preoccupied.” No way in heck was Cash going to win over his son with a little ice cream. The man needed to know James was serious about claiming his territory. A hand slapped his back. “James Sullivan? I thought that was you.” A balding man with a beer gut stepped in between him and Lizzie. “We got here a couple hours ago. Long drive from Utah, but pretty.”

James tried to settle as he turned to one of Jesse’s potential new sponsors. They expected him to be professional when all he wanted to do was fight this out with Lizzie. Even if they were on stage in front of the entire town, the rodeo circuit and every shirttail relation who loved a good party and a good fight. “Mr. Cooper. Glad to see you.” “Where’s that brother of yours? Out cowboying with some pretty cowgirl?” The man leered at Lizzie who pulled JR closer.

James shrugged. “He’s around here somewhere. I just saw him. He doesn’t ride until tomorrow so you have some time to relax and enjoy.” He put his arm around Lizzie. “I’d like to introduce you to my girlfriend, Lizzie.” Cash flashed a questioning look at Lizzie who slightly shook her head, we’ll talk later. No, you won’t, James promised them silently. “Nice to meet you, Lizzie.” Cooper’s gaze roamed her up and

down. The only thing he missed was meeting her eyes. James wanted to punch him. But instead he pulled JR in front of him and stepped in front of Lizzie. “This is my son, JR. He won the mutton busting competition.” “Talent must run in the family.” Cooper ignored JR. “Listen, can we talk? I want to go over our contract offer with you before you present it to your brother. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised at a

few changes I added since we last spoke.” Groan. James glanced at Lizzie. “We were about to grab something to eat.” She shook her head. “JR and I will go with Cash. Then I’ve got to head home before it gets dark. You go ahead. We’ll finish this later.” James wasn’t sure what that meant, but it sounded like when she used to say fine and didn’t mean fine.

“Later,” Cash called, walking away, a shit-eating grin plastered over his face. You might have won this battle buddy, but it’s not over. Not by a long shot. “So Mr. Cooper, you feel like a good steak and a couple beers?” James headed toward the parking lot with Jesse’s future sponsor. Someday he’d be done and Jesse could handle this on his own. Come hell or high water.

••• Lizzie moved pieces of the salmon on her plate around the grilled asparagus. She hoped Cash wouldn’t notice her lack of appetite, but the man spoke as soon as she put her fork down. “Lizzie, look. I know you have lots on your mind.” Cash reached over and laid his hand on hers. “That obvious?” Lizzie tried to smile.

“That having James and his brother back in town has thrown you into the river a few hundred times this weekend? A little.” Cash smiled. “Look, you’ve told him the big secret. The ball’s in his court. Will he step up and be a man or keep being one of the boys?” “Jesse’s won’t like the competition.” Lizzie sipped her iced tea. “Uncle Jesse loves competition. That’s why he’s a bull rider,” JR

announced through a mouthful of French fries. “Honey, you haven’t even met your Uncle Jesse.” Lizzie leaned over with a napkin and wiped ketchup off JR’s lip. “Yeah, but I know bull riders. I’m going to be one someday.” JR burped. “’Scuse me.” Lizzie shook her head. Hopefully this new-found occupation would go the way of the astronaut, the doctor, and the

garbage man: out of his thoughts as soon as he found a new hero. “You ready for your dessert? What did you decide? Sundae or shake?” Cash grinned at the miniature cowboy. “Shake please. Chocolate?” JR swung his legs. “Did you know my dad from school, too?” Cash waved over their waitress. “Two chocolate shakes and…?” he focused on Lizzie. “A small bowl of vanilla ice cream with huckleberry sauce.”

Lizzie gave in. For the next few hours she would relax and enjoy and not think coming to some sort of an agreement with James about JR. She’d be a Scarlett tonight; she’d think about hard things tomorrow. “Cash was a year ahead of us. You know he played football though, so he thought he was all that.” Cash leaned back, pretending to look hurt. “I didn’t think I was all that.” He grinned at JR. “I was all that.”

“Big talk for a small town restaurant owner,” Lizzie teased. “I love my little place. And for once in my life, I’m happy.” Cash leaned aside as the waitress brought their desserts. “I liked playing football, but I hated all the travel. I guess I’m just a homeboy at heart.” “I’ve only been to Oregon and Washington.” Lizzie took a bite of her sundae. “I wanted to travel once I left high school, but plans change.”

“My dad travels a lot.” JR stretched to reach his shake. “Yes he does.” Lizzie wasn’t sure where JR was heading with the statement. Sometimes he just stopped. Other times he came up with some of the strangest correlations. JR eyed Cash. “You used to travel a lot.” Cash glanced at Lizzie, raising his eyebrows. She lifted her shoulders indicating she had no clue where JR was heading.

“That’s right. When I played football, I traveled a lot.” Cash paused and tried to change the subject. “Do you like the shake?” “It’s good,” JR answered but didn’t allow Cash to change the conversation’s direction. He continued, “So maybe my dad will stop traveling and stay home with us like you stopped traveling and started working here.” Lizzie’s heart dropped. This was why she hadn’t been honest with him or James before. JR was

planning an at-home future with a dad who’d still be running around the country nine months out of the year. She cuddled closer to her son. “JR, listen. Just because you know who your dad is doesn’t mean he’ll be here with you. I mean he’ll try to see you as much as he can, but he’s busy.” Cash chimed in, “And we can do stuff. The three of us. I’m taking your mom to the high school musical next weekend. It’s about

pirates. Do you want to come with us?” JR pushed his shake away, tears forming in his eyes. “Can we go home now?” “Tired, buddy?” Lizzie tousled his hair. He nodded. “Looks like Cinderella needs to take the pumpkin home.” “I’m not a pumpkin.” JR curled into a ball on the bench, away from Lizzie. She ran her hand on top of JR’s head. “Too much excitement.

Thanks for dinner.” “Anytime.” Lizzie pulled JR to his feet. “Say ‘thank you’ to Cash.” Without looking up, JR muttered, “Thanks,” and took off for the door. “It’s been a rough weekend for him.” Lizzie headed after her wounded son. “I’ll call next week to make plans.” Lizzie turned and waved when she was at the door, but Cash was

already at a diner’s table being the perfect host and owner. She and her son had been dismissed.

CHAPTER FIVE He should leave well enough alone, but he couldn’t. Grimly, James strained to focus on the curvy road up to Lizzie’s place as daylight quickly faded from the sky. Though it was only a few miles and the truck could handle the tight curves without problems, most wildlife versus car accidents occurred at dusk so the

drive was taking longer than he wanted. The rental cabin business Lizzie and her family ran sat on the dirt road winding through the mountains outside Shawnee. The road dead-ended twenty miles past the Hudson’s place at a small mining community. Between Lizzie’s and the road’s end were some of the best brown trout fishing spots in Idaho. Heck, maybe even in the northwest.

He hit the brakes at the sight of eyes flashing in the gathering dark by the river. Yep, a small herd of deer grazed next to the road, probably coming down to drink. James eased off the gas and hoped the deer would cooperate and stay on the side of the road while he edged by. Mr. Cooper had kept him at the Longhorn long after they’d finished their meal. The man could eat. Sixteen-ounce rib eye, loaded baked potato, a side salad, and cheesecake

for dessert. This coupled with strict religious beliefs that didn’t allow for a sip of either alcohol or caffeine. James had kept his drink order alcohol free as well, but Jesse’s drinking was a point of discussion for their upcoming meeting. “We don’t expect him to follow our moral code.” Mr. Cooper had scooped up a bite of sour cream laden potato. “It’s just we don’t want to be explaining why the face

of Cooper’s Country Store had to be bailed out of jail.” James did his best to alleviate the man’s fears, but drinking a few beers after a big competition came with the lifestyle. Jesse wouldn’t give it up easily. Maybe the size of the contract would help him say no. Or at least when. Cooper had continued, “We expect you to be the enforcer. We’re paying for a relationship with you as well.” Apprehension must have crossed James’s face because the

man clarified, “Of course we’re paying you a bonus to manage your brother. But this is non-negotiable. You’re both part of the Cooper Country Store family.” The words echoed in James’s head long after the meal ended. Especially when Jesse hadn’t been at the hotel room when James returned. He’d flicked on the television, but anxiety and restlessness got the better of him so he turned it back off. If he couldn’t nail down Jesse,

he’d go finish his discussion with Lizzie. He had a son, and by God, he would get to know him, not waste more time waiting for his damn brother to show. He’d left a note for Jesse, but James knew Jesse wouldn’t be the first one back in the room. As the miles passed, James wondered if showing up without calling first was his best choice. Jesse might be the Sullivan with the reputation for being unreliable, but James knew he himself could

sometimes be — and often had been — more than a little impetuous when it came to Lizzie. What if she was still at dinner with Cash? What if they were at the house, curled up together after putting JR to bed, sharing a kiss. Or more. Damn it, he did not want them sharing anything with JR in the house. Aw hell. Truthfully, he didn’t want them sharing anything, ever. “Damn it,” he growled to himself. He shook the vision of

what Cash might be doing with Lizzie out of his head. Cash wasn’t a problem — yet. If James didn’t work fast, he would be. But Lizzie wasn’t a jumper. She took her time making up her mind about people. After this afternoon, James knew he was on thin ice. But she had to let him in. Finally, there was the sign, five years the worse for wear. Hudson’s Hot Springs — relax in your very own private oasis. Cabins for Rent.

He pulled into the parking lot he’d helped carve out of the other side of the mountain road senior year. From the look of the resort, adding the parking lot was the last improvement completed before Lizzie’s mom started the cancer treatments. He crossed the deserted road and stepped onto the wooden porch. The floor boards creaked under his weight. The wood-framed cabin at the edge of the road served as the guest cabin check-in, the dining

room for Sunday breakfast, and the poolroom and bar for Saturday night. He knocked on the screen door, but a glance inside showed him the empty gathering room. Walking in, he examined the cabin. Perched between the pool table and a big overstuffed couch, a television that had seen better days played some robot movie. “Liz? JR?” James called. No answer. Their bedrooms were on the second level of this cabin, but James knew if they were up there,

they would have heard him. He’d spent a few Sunday afternoons in Lizzie’s room, listening for her dad to come back into the house. A walk through the cabin showed him that five years had changed little. A bar ran the length of the cabin, but there were few bottles on the glass shelves. James inspected the empty glass-front fridge. A collection of Matchbox cars lined the edge of the wooden bar.

James’s eyes narrowed. Either the supply truck ran late this week, or Hudson’s Hot Springs had seen better days. Between hikers, back country skiers and the fact that Idaho had some kind of hunting season pretty much year round, James remembered the cabins being booked every weekend as well as most weeks throughout the year. They should especially be booked for rodeo weekend. He walked through the kitchen to the back door. Looking through

the old screen door, he saw Lizzie and JR in front of a small shed at the edge of the back yard. JR held a flashlight. A cat hissed at him from the kitchen cabinet. “Whoa.” The flashlight turned on the screen door. “We’re closed,” Lizzie called. “Your cat doesn’t like me.” James shoved open the screen, let it slam behind him.

“Dad!” JR ran towards him, the light from the flashlight bouncing up and down. When he met James, he hugged his legs. “Don’t worry about Mr. Pebbles. He doesn’t like anyone. You came to see me. I told Mom and Cash you would.” James smiled and knelt to give his son a hug. “Of course, buddy. I want to get to know you. And Mr. Pebbles.” “Can I get some light over here?” Lizzie’s voice sounded short.

“Let’s go help your mom.” James stood and, taking JR’s hand, he walked toward where Lizzie fiddled with an engine pump. “What’s the problem?” Lizzie wiped her forehead with her hand. “The pump from the springs stopped working.” He moved her over so he could get a better look. Glancing over the pump, he pointed out the problem. “Your shut off valve is stuck. Got any WD-40?”

“JR, run into the kitchen. It’s under the sink.” JR took off with the flashlight, leaving Lizzie and James in darkness. Lizzie sat on the ground, crossing her legs into a lotus position. “I’ve never been any good with this end of things and lately Dad’s let the upkeep get out of hand. Most days he’s fishing, but he never brings home anything. I think he’s still grieving.”

“I’m sure it’s hard on him. But, Liz, the cabins are empty? This weekend?” Lizzie scrutinized a spot on the ground, refusing to meet his eyes. “James, we haven’t rented out the cabins in six months.” “So how have you been surviving?” Guilt crossed Lizzie’s face. “We get Dad’s army retirement check. And … .” “And what?” James strained in the dark to see what Lizzie wasn’t

telling him. What could be this bad? “And JR gets Medicaid and we get food stamps.” Lizzie dropped her head. “And you were waiting to call me when things got rough?” James lowered his voice. “Seriously, taking welfare is easier than asking me for help? I would have paid child support, whatever you needed. I would have been there.” “Yeah, but you weren’t, remember?” Lizzie’s voice cracked. “You’re not even really here now.

You think you can ride in and every problem will be fixed? What fairytale did you step out of, Prince Charming?” The screen door slammed and JR and his flashlight came flying back at the pair. “I found it. Finally.” He handed the can to James. “What did I miss?” “Thanks.” James shot Lizzie the same we’ll talk later look she’d given Cash earlier. They didn’t need to fight in front of JR. “JR, shine the flashlight right there.”

Silence reigned while James tinkered with the pump. Then he primed it a few times and hit the reset switch. The pump roared to life. JR jumped backwards and fell on his butt. “Wow. You fixed it.” “I did. But the pump needs to be oiled and the lines are pretty ragged at the edges. We’ll have to do some work tomorrow when it’s light.” “I thought we were going to the rodeo tomorrow to see Uncle Jesse

ride?” “We are. But work comes before play. We’ll get up early and fix the lines. Then we can go.” He nodded at Lizzie. “Why don’t you go in and make some coffee and hot chocolate while us men check the rest of the system?” “I can do that.” Lizzie’s voice was soft with gratitude. Just hearing her talk made him want to reach for her. “Am I one of the men?” JR asked, interrupting the vivid

daydream that was beginning to take James away. “Yep. You and me. We’re the men tonight.” He stood and took JR’s hand. “We’ll be back in a few, woman.” He winked at Lizzie. “Make sure there are marshmallows in the hot chocolate.” “And sugar for the coffee,” Lizzie answered. “I remember.” He watched her walk to the house before turning back to the shed. For the first time in five years

ago, he felt like he was home. Her words replayed in his mind: “I remember.” I hope you do, he thought, because I remember too much. ••• Lizzie poured milk into a pan and set it on the burner. James would have a cow if he knew how much she and JR depended upon the generous taxpayers of Idaho to get by these days. Along with the Medicaid and food stamps, this year

for the first time she’d also gotten heating assistance to pay for filling the propane tank, as well as help with her electric bill. Then there was the financial assistance checks that kept the growing JR clothed. It had taken swallowing every bit of pride she possessed to apply for assistance at all, but just when her dad seemed to be coming out of the daze her mom’s death left him in, he’d taken some kind of left turn away from them again. Lizzie had only managed to keep the cabins

running as long as she had because nothing broke. But when the lines from their signature hot springs went down and all her dad said was “I’ll get to it” then wandered off to who knew where, Lizzie did what she had to. Because with the fall-off in trade due to the economy, the money to pay for outside help to get the place back on its feet just wasn’t there. Going to James for help after all this time hadn’t occurred to her at first. Then when it did because of questions on JR’s social services

and welfare forms, she’d decided it was a bad idea best left to lie. When the interviewer prodded, Lizzie said simply that JR’s daddy wasn’t in the picture and had never been. Eventually the subject dropped. Yeah and James finding out about JR this weekend has been so much easier. Turning down the gas under the milk, she went to brew a pot of coffee. Social Services wanted to set her up with some job training that might help her to be more

independent when it came to running Hudson’s Hot Springs, but so far nothing had come through. And today after learning that James had found JR alone outside River’s Edge while her dad was inside, Lizzie was no longer sure how she would be able to get that job training if she couldn’t trust her dad to look after JR while she was gone. Torn, she watched the small beam of the flashlight bounce around as James and JR walked around the backyard. Had she done the right

thing? JR deserved to know his father and James was here for him. Today. But what about the next time Jesse called? Finishing the coffee, Lizzie pulled out the chocolate chip cookies she’d baked Friday. JR would be over the moon. Two desserts in one night. He’d think it was a holiday. Grinning, she turned off the stove and mixed the homemade cocoa mix into the warm milk. There would be enough left over to stir into the coffee for

homemade mochas for her and James. Sleep wouldn’t come easy tonight but she didn’t think the cause would be the late-night caffeine hit. She went to the front room and locked the door. Now they weren’t the host cabin for her rentals, she should remember to lock up earlier. But old habits died hard. And see what the cat drug in tonight. She grinned, turned off the television and went back to the

kitchen. She’d set out the cups when the boys came in the back door. “Mom, did you know there’s baby mice in the pump house? Can I keep one as a pet?” JR pulled off his jacket and dropped it on the floor next to the posts she’d installed by the door for his coats and jackets. “Hang that right, buster. And no, we don’t keep mice as pets.” Lizzie poured the hot cocoa into JR’s favorite old NASCAR cup then

added the requested marshmallows. “Go wash your hands.” “That’s no fair. Sandy has mice and a guinea pig.” JR draped the jacket on the hook. “And a dog. You won’t even let me have a pet that’s free.” “Hands, mister.” Lizzie pointed toward the bathroom door. JR stomped out of the kitchen. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have shown him the mice. I’ll clean the shed out tomorrow.” James nodded to the

kitchen sink. “Mind if I wash up in here?” “Go ahead.” Her mind raced. He planned on coming back tomorrow? She knew he’d mentioned something when they were fixing the pump, but she thought he’d was being nice. “Look, you don’t have to come back tomorrow. Fixing things here isn’t your problem.” James dried his hands on the kitchen towel. “I said I would and I

am. So accept my offer and say thank you.” “But really, you don’t have to … .” Lizzie stopped when the dishtowel popped her arm. “Ouch.” James grinned. “Want another one?” “No. I mean thank you for doing this.” Lizzie gave in and pointed to the coffee. “You want some cocoa mixed in?” “And ruin the coffee? No thanks. Black is fine.” James sat

down at the kitchen table. “You make these cookies?” “I did.” She set the coffee in front of him. “Chocolate chip is JR’s favorite. And he can’t stand raisin.” James grabbed a cookie and took a bite. “You always did make a mean cookie. There’s so much I missed, isn’t there?” Lizzie poured half a cup of cocoa then topped it with coffee. Stirring the mixture, she paused before answering, “Yes. He was a cranky baby, but my mom could

soothe him. She said I was too nervous, I moved too fast.” “Sounds like you.” James’s voice sounded warm and quiet. She dropped the spoon in the sink, looked out the window. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. It wasn’t fair.” “You did what you thought was best for you and JR. How can I be mad at that?” James stood behind her. She felt his breath on her cheek; tears threatened. “I should

have told you.” James leaned into her and put his arms around her waist, pulling her close to him. “You’ve told me now. And you gave me the most amazing gift today.” He spun her around and wiped her tears. “We can’t change the past. All we can do is live today and plan for tomorrow. Where we go tomorrow … .” He shrugged. “We need to make those decisions.” JR’s voice came from the table. “I thought we were working on the

pumps, then going to the rodeo tomorrow.” Lizzie grinned and lightly pushed James away, patting his arm. Leave it to JR. “You’re right, but I think your dad was talking about the future, not just tomorrow.” She took her cup and sat down at the table with JR. James followed her lead. “Like how he’s not going to travel so I can teach him to fish?”

JR reached for a second cookie, the first already gone. Lizzie sucked a painful breath and shut her eyes. “Maybe. We’ll see. And that’s your last one. You’ll be hyped on sugar and never get to sleep.” Lizzie brushed the hair out of her son’s eyes. He was growing up too fast. James grinned at JR. “I’m a fan of your mom’s chocolate chip cookies, too. In fact, they’re why I started dating her.”

“If I remember right, my mom’s apple pie cinched the deal.” Lizzie recalled the first night James had shown up for dinner at the house. The menu had seemed more like a Sunday supper: mashed potatoes, fried chicken, bacon– green beans, and an apple pie for dessert. Her mom had gone all out for Lizzie’s first steady beau. “We have to reel him in good, Elizabeth.” Her mom had smiled when Lizzie commented on the spread.

“I’m not fishing here, Mom,” Lizzie had complained. “We’re just dating.” “From what I’ve heard he’s a good boy. You could do a lot worse. Like dating his wild brother.” Lizzie had bitten back a laugh. Dating James meant dating Jesse, too, since he was always around. Her mom had brushed Lizzie’s bangs out of her eyes. “You’re growing up so fast.” Lizzie hadn’t known what her mom was talking about then. She

did now. Looking up, she realized both James and JR were watching her. “What?” “Earth to Lizzie, where did you go?” James reached for her hand. “I’ve been right here, why?” JR jumped in. “We asked you a question, twice.” “You caught me. I was thinking about Grandma.” She straightened. “What did you ask?” “JR wanted to know how long we dated.” James squeezed her

hand. “I told him I loved you from the minute we met, in what, fourth grade?” “Seriously, James, I had my eye on you long before that. Remember Mrs. Taylor in first grade?” Lizzie smiled at JR. “We didn’t have kindergarten back then. We were thrown straight into the hard stuff.” “I remember Mrs. Taylor.” James nodded. “She looked like a grandma. She used to read to us every day right after lunch.”

“Story time. I think it helped calm everyone down from recess.” James seemed surprised. “You were in Mrs. Taylor’s class? Why don’t I remember you?” “Because I was quiet and scared and you were hanging with Annie.” “I remember Annie. She let me see her … .” “James!” Lizzie interrupted. “There’s a child at the table.” “I was going to say, she let me see her lasso. Her dad had a

miniature one made just for her. Where is your mind, Liz?” James nodded at JR. “Besides, I think he’s out for the night.” JR leaned against the table, his head in his hands, his eyes closed. A gentle snore came out of his mouth, proving James right. Lizzie stood and walked over to pick JR up. “It’s been a long day. He’s tuckered out.” James appeared at her side. “Let me take him.”

Lizzie nodded. “His bedroom’s this way.” They headed up the narrow stairs to the top floor. “After we get him to bed, I’ll tell you what else Annie showed me. Or maybe I’ll show you?” “Hang onto that thought, stud. I think we have more important things to talk about than exhibitionist Annie. You know she became a stripper down in Vegas right?”

“No way. I thought one of those girls seemed familiar when Jesse and I were there last year.” James laid the sleeping JR on his bed and pulled off his cowboy boots. “You got some pj’s for him? Or is he more of an au naturale kind of kid?” “Let’s say he starts in jammies.” Lizzie pulled pj’s from the chipped wooden chest of drawers. “He’s sounding more like his old man.” James grinned. “I would get hot at night. By the time

breakfast came, I’d stripped down to my skivvies. Mom would go haywire when I’d walk into the kitchen. After she left, Dad never even noticed.” “Oh, James, I didn’t realize how hard it was.” Lizzie thought about the months after losing her own mom. “Until now, I guess.” James took the sleepwear. “I’ve got this. You go down and finish your mocha. I’ll be there in a sec.” “You sure?”

“This is the first time I get to put him to bed, Lizzie. I want to.” Lizzie walked out of the room and then stopped in the hallway, listening to James talk to their sleeping son while he pulled off the dusty cowboy outfit and put him into soft, warm flannel. It was clear at the moment that James wanted to be part of JR’s life. Now she had to figure out what adding him to the mix meant for all of them. Down in the kitchen, she put JR’s plate and cup in the sink.

Running water into the cup, she looked out the window for a glimpse of the rental cabins. If James meant what he said about helping — and stayed to follow through — maybe she could open them again by the end of May. Aside from cleaning and possibly some minor refurbishing, all it would take was updating the website — and maybe hanging flyers in town at the general store and possibly Cash’s place. If she could get the heat back on in the

cabins and pull in hikers as well as fall and winter hunters, she might be able to pull off a season profitable enough get her and JR off welfare. And if the season really went well, maybe she could hire some help, stop depending upon her dad for maintenance when she couldn’t even talk to him anymore. Take control of her life. However she did it, she needed to do something to erase the look of pity she’d seen in James’s face

when she’d told him how she and JR were surviving. She couldn’t afford to be ashamed of what she’d done. When the world didn’t do your bidding you had to step up and turn lemons into lemonade, as her mom would say. She mixed up another cup of mocha, refilled James’s mug, and grabbed a notebook to start her to do list. Heck, if James could really take care of the hot springs pump for her and Dad’s mind stopped wandering long enough to keep JR

occupied for a few days, she might be able have a cabin ready to rent by the end of the week. If. If-if-if. There were always a few of those. Head down, she listed all the chores she needed to finish for one cabin. One step at a time, Suzie Q. Dealing with her mom’s illness and death while running the cabins and raising JR had taught her one thing: organization was the key to success. Turning a page, she wrote “Marketing” at the top. Since the

cabins were each equipped with a microwave, small refrigerator and toaster, there was no reason to offer a full day’s food service. That would bring her reopening costs down immediately. She chewed the top of her pen. On the other hand, she could whip up amazing breakfast at little cost to the business while tacking on a surcharge for doing so. And her private grove of huckleberries were just coming in. Until they were ready she could make do with the few bags left in

the freezer from last year’s harvest. Plus there was the jam she’d already made and the bread and occasional pie she could make. The more she wrote, the more excited she got. “I hope that list isn’t all the angry things you wanted to say to me, but never have,” James said from the kitchen doorway. Lizzie jumped. “No, it’s an idea I had for reopening the cabins. If you really do mean to help out tomorrow, I could probably do it by

the end of the month. Sooner with luck.” “What can I do?” James pulled a chair close to Lizzie and sat down. He glanced over the list. “You forgot landscaping. You need to clean up the outside, maybe power wash the exterior. Let me handle that tomorrow.” “But the rodeo? Won’t Jesse need you?” “We’ll get there in time to see him ride. But if he can’t get his butt out of bed and dressed on his own

by now, we’ve got another problem.” James grinned. “Let me help you.” “Okay. Just remember you volunteered. I don’t want to hear any whining.” Lizzie could feel James’s body heat so close. She wanted to touch him. No, she wanted to rip off his clothes and run her hands across his chest. Stop thinking about sex. He’s only here to help. “Missy, I don’t whine.” James took a sip of his coffee. “Now, let’s

talk about your idea. When are you thinking about opening? What about supplies?” Lizzie pulled her mind out of the things she wanted to do to James and focused on the things she needed to do to the cabins. “Well, I thought that since the cabins are equipped with minikitchens, maybe I don’t have to serve food. At least not all day. And if the pump is working well, and the Jacuzzis are gone over to make sure

they’re in shape, and the spa area sparkles, and … .” “Wow, you don’t want much, do you.” James laughed outright. Then he sobered. “We don’t have to leave for the next rodeo until Tuesday night. So you have one extra set of hands until then.” He was quiet for a moment. “Honestly, Lizzie, I didn’t know what you were up against with all this. I can’t promise, but depending on where we’re going next, I might be able to

be here a couple days a week. Until you get everything squared away.” We’re both dancing around a future here. Not willing to jump in and realize the pool is empty. “Let’s see where we are Tuesday night when you leave. We might knock the majority of the work out before then.” Lizzie started reading out the list. James added items when he thought of them. Two hours later, they had a plan. Not only for cleaning up the

cabins, but a shopping list. She had linens for the cabins, but needed new pillows. And it never hurt to have extra towels for the spa baths. “I’ll give you my credit card and you can run into Boise and pick up your supplies at the warehouse store after I’m gone.” “And how will you get back your card?” Lizzie dumped the dregs from her cup into the sink and rinsed the cup. “I told you I’d be back next week.” James came up behind her

and put his head on her shoulder, his body melding into hers. “Don’t you listen, woman? Or don’t you believe me?” Her breath caught as she tried hard not to melt into his arms. “James, you can have all the intentions of coming back, but like you even said, it depends on where Jesse’s riding. You can’t be two places at once.” “A man may not be able to serve two masters,” James said, pulling away from her to get his cup

off the table, “but he can do everything in his power to be dependable both on the job and with his family.” He set the mug in the sink. “Do you mind if I crash on your couch? I don’t think I can keep my eyes open long enough to drive back to town.” Kiss him. Take him back up to your room. Show him why he should choose you this time. Ignoring mind and body, Lizzie headed to the linen closet in the laundry room. She returned with a

set of sheets, a quilt, and a pillow. She thrust the pile into James’s arms. “I can’t tell you it’s very comfortable, but you won’t be cold.” “Thanks, Lizzie, for everything.” James reached for her, but Lizzie turned away. If he touched her, she was a goner. “I’ll see you in the morning. You still like ham and cheese omelets?” She headed up the stairs. “Whatever you fix is fine with me.”

Lizzie waited until she reached the top of the stairs before sprinting to her room and closing the door. She leaned it closed, her heart beating faster. “Calm down, Liz. He’s only here for JR. Remember that.” Lizzie got into her cotton nightdress and slipped between the sheets of her queen size bed. She bunched up a pillow and stared at it. Words she’d wanted to say for years floated through her mind. But every time she thought of the best way to

tell James how she still felt him, a vision of him and Jesse walking away to the next rodeo intruded. Restlessly she tossed and turned, wanting to blame the coffee for her inability to sleep. And knowing if she did it would be a lie. “I give up. Do you hear me, God? I give up.” Lizzie rolled over and closed her eyes. It took forever, but sleep finally came.

CHAPTER SIX James woke to the smell of baking bread. Banana bread? Lizzie must be up. He lifted his head and gazed right into JR’s eyes. He sat on the coffee table, his legs crossed, his chin in his hands, watching James. “Hey, buddy. Did you sleep good?” James stretched and pulled back the quilt. “I guess. Why are you sleeping on the couch?”

“It was late when Mommy and me finished talking so I slept over. Hand me my jeans.” James pointed at the Wranglers lying to one side of the table. “Here.” JR gave him the pants. He furrowed his eyebrows at James. “Is it okay I stayed?” James pulled on the pants, hopping to get the long legs straight. “Yeah, but … .” JR hesitated. “But what?” James needed to hit the bathroom, but didn’t want to

walk away when JR clearly was concerned about something. “Why didn’t you sleep with Mommy? Don’t mommies and daddies sleep together?” “JR!” Lizzie stood in the kitchen door, her silhouette outlined by the sunshine streaming into the kitchen. “It’s rude to ask so many questions. Now leave your dad alone so he can get dressed.” “Sorry.” JR walked toward her. “Can I have bacon?”

“We’ll see. Get in there and sit down. James, are you ready for breakfast?” Lizzie didn’t meet his eyes. He thought he’d seen her checking out his abs but he wasn’t sure. “Let me get washed up. I’ll be right in.” He watched her disappear into the kitchen. Are things going to be this tense all day? He ran out to the truck and grabbed the overnight bag he’d packed before leaving the hotel last

night. He’d thought it might be wishful thinking, but now he was glad for a change of clothes. Inside, James padded barefooted to the bathroom where he found toothpaste and a new toothbrush, a washcloth and a towel laid out for him. A disposable razor and travel size container of shaving cream sat on the counter. The woman thought of everything. He hadn’t been this well taken care of since, well, since he and Lizzie had broken up.

He turned on the shower and popped in for a quick wake up. Today was his second day as a dad. He prayed he wouldn’t mess it up. Fifteen minutes later, he was clean-shaven, fresh, and ready for the world. He tucked the overnight bag under the sink. Standing up he caught sight of his face in the mirror. Did he look like a dad? Or did he look like the driftless bum he felt like? He needed to make a decision. JR needed more time with him than just a few days in the

middle of random weeks. A parttime dad. James didn’t think Jesse could handle the business end of things, but maybe he could turn daily management over to someone like Barb. They got on well together and Jesse might listen better to someone who wasn’t family. “Yeah, that’s gotta be what’s best for everyone.” James regarded the mirror, aware he didn’t look convinced. “I’ll talk to him tonight after the ride. No use upsetting Jesse before he competes.”

A small knock echoed in the bathroom. “Dad?” JR’s voice came up from the crack between the door and the floor. “Yes, JR?” He’d have to get use to this constant attention. Of course being with Jesse had kind of prepared him for life with a fiveyear-old. “Who’s in there with you?” James slowly cracked open the door to find his son lying on the floor. JR shot upright instantly.

“There’s no one in the bathroom with me. Why?” “I heard you talking to someone.” JR peered around him, checking. “Well, as you can see, there’s no one there. I was talking to myself. Don’t you do that sometimes?” James reached down and pulled JR to his feet. “Not since Grampa said only loonies talk to themselves. Like Mr. Dunn in town.” JR’s voice went down to a whisper, “He doesn’t

have a home to shower in so he always stinks, but we aren’t supposed to talk about it. It’s rude.” “Well, yes, that would be rude and probably hurt his feelings, knowing you were talking about him. But your Grampa is wrong. Sometimes even people who aren’t crazy talk out problems with themselves. At least I do.” “You have a problem? What is it? Maybe I can fix it. Mom says I’m very helpful. I even saved Martha’s cat from a wolf last month.”

“You did?” James tried to steer the conversation away from himself. How could he tell a fiveyear-old his father was trying to choose between being with him or taking care of his grown uncle? The choice should be clear. “Yep. Fluffy was stuck in a tree and the wolf circled, teasing him Gramps said.” JR’s eyes widen with memory. “What did you do?” James didn’t like where this was heading.

Who watched JR? Did he run wild all the time? “I ran and told Gramps and he took out his shotgun.” JR put his hand on James’s arm. “Don’t worry, he didn’t shoot the wolf. He shot up in the air and it ran away. Licketysplit, he was gone. I held Fluffy for the entire robot movie she loves and she still shook at the end.” “You were pretty brave.” James felt bad for jumping to conclusions about JR’s safety again. Then he

realized he didn’t know Fluffy’s owner. “Who’s Martha? JR peeked toward the kitchen to see if Lizzie was listening. “Grandpa’s girlfriend. I saw them kissing last week. On the lips.” James leaned closer. “Why are we whispering?” “Because Mom doesn’t know. She’d be sad.” JR glanced again at the kitchen. “Oh, I forgot, Mom said to come get you for breakfast.” “Then we better go.” Glad Bob had found someone, James smiled.

Lizzie’s mom had been a pistol. She ran the home and business with an iron hand. Bob was probably lost without her. But Lizzie might not see things the same way. Lizzie stood at the stove, flipping flapjacks when they walked into the kitchen. “What took the two of you so long?” She put a short stack in front of JR as he slid into his seat. “We were… ” JR stumbled. “We were talking. You know, man talk.” James said quickly,

certain JR had been about to spill Grampa’s beans. He nodded at the boy, who ducked his head and shoveled pancake into his mouth. “Yah, man talk,” JR mumbled through the mouthful. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, it’s rude.” Lizzie slid a plate in front of James. It brimmed with a three-egg omelet, stuffed with ham and cheddar cheese. “Hope you’re hungry. I’ve been up since five, cooking.”

“This looks amazing.” His stomach growled just looking at the food. James took a big bite. “Mmmm, and tastes better.” “I’m not done yet.” Lizzie turned to the stove and grabbed two more plates — one stacked with pancakes, the other with hash brown potatoes filled with bacon bits, onions and green peppers. “There you go. If you’re still hungry after this, I’ve got a loaf of banana bread about to come out of the oven.”

“What, no huckleberry pie?” James ducked as he watched Lizzie’s color rise. “You ungrateful snit.” “Hold on, I was just fooling. This is way more than enough. Jesse’s going to be jealous. Homemade meals come few and far between on the road.” The instant he mentioned Jesse, Lizzie’s face went from beaming to a controlled emotionless void. Damn it, he should know better. They still

needed to talk about the future. James knew that however often she’d spoken her mind about his brother, Lizzie had tried not to influence his decisions about Jesse. She’d be blown away if she knew exactly what he’d been thinking. James hid a small grin behind a mouthful of food. “Yah, Mom, fooling.” JR came to his defense — which made James’s grin widen. He snuck a peek at Lizzie’s face.

“JR, your dad doesn’t need your help getting into the dog house.” She smiled sweetly at James. “He’s always done that fine by himself.” Lizzie put her own plate down and reached for his and JR’s hand. JR reached for his other hand and James found himself in a circle. “JR, will you say grace?” Lizzie bowed her head and waited. James watched his son bow his head. When the little voice started, James filled with emotion, not only

for the miracle before him, but for the promise it held. The three of them, a family. Eating together, learning together, loving each other. He’d wanted this his entire life. And now it waited for him, ready-made despite his walking away from Lizzie the first time. He bowed his head and listened to JR say the blessing on the food. This time, James assured himself, he wouldn’t walk away. This time he’d choose differently. He had to.

••• Two hours later the first cabin shone, ceiling to floor, on the inside. Maybe, Lizzie thought, surveying her handiwork with pride, it wouldn’t take as long to get all five cabins up and running as she’d imagined. Then she flipped over the bare mattress and winced. She’d forgotten how long it had been since the cabins had seen new bedding. Mentally she shifted new mattresses and springs to the top of

her list of necessary purchases — next season. What she had would have to do for now. Who knew, by then maybe she’d even have the money to upgrade to a higher quality. People who rented cabins and made use of the hot spring baths liked pampering. And nothing said love like a big soft comfy bed. The sound of the lawnmower took her to the cabin’s window. James was mowing the yard, his shirt discarded on a lawn chair in the middle of the patio. She glanced

around to locate JR. He stood at the edge of the river. Last month she’d found him alone on the rocks, his fishing pole dangling in the water. The lawnmower engine cut off and her glance returned to James. His muscular chest showed Lizzie he hadn’t given up on his gym addiction. He’d always loved lifting weights. His shoulders were broad and her fingertips itched to touch him. To skim down his arms, feel the hard muscles beneath the softness of his skin. She clenched

her hands. Stupid. James was here to get to know his child, not play house with her. But, boy did her body ache to cuddle next to him. She grabbed the pillows she needed to replace before the cabin would be ready to rent and headed for the house. Making up the bed, stocking the in-cabin bathroom and kitchenette, and adding some welcoming touches like fresh flowers and curtains would take the rest of the weekend. And they still had to drive back into town before

Jesse’s competition. Chores might not be a fun activity, but a clean house was a godly house her mother always said. She’d thought her mom was just trying to keep Lizzie’s teenage hormones in check when she’d turned over the upkeep of the cabins when Lizzie turned thirteen. While that might have been part of it, Lizzie also understood now that her mother had also been trying to give her something to fall back on “in case.” Teach her how to take care of

herself, make use of the family assets available to her. She’d never thought of it like that before. Never realized how insightful her mother might have been — or how far-seeing. The thought brought her back to the Sullivan boys. James. Jesse. She shook her head. Jesse knew how to have a good time, that she’d give him. But how would he react when James told him about JR? To learning he was an uncle? More importantly, how would James

react if Jesse fought the idea? Jesse could demand proof of paternity and James hadn’t even brought up the idea of a paternity test. James hadn’t doubted her when she said JR was his son. Jesse wouldn’t be as easy to convince. But like it or not, he’d have to accept JR eventually. She hoped his protests wouldn’t hurt her son. JR already accepted Jesse as family. Lizzie hoped the reverse would also be true.

On the kitchen table James’s cell phone rang, playing a tune Lizzie recognized. Surprised, she realized it had to be Jesse calling. Who else would James attach to a song about a troubadour running his life on the road? Glancing out the window, she saw James standing next to JR, watching the river. Not telling him about the call would only delay the inevitable. Jesse was going to find out. It might as well be now.

She dropped the old pillows into a trash bag and set it aside to take out to the garbage. Grabbing James’s cell, she walked toward the river. As one, James and JR glanced up at her approach. She handed the phone to James. “I think Jesse’s trying to reach you.” James took the phone and without looking at the number slipped it into the pocket of his jeans. “He can wait.” Lizzie watched him carefully. “Are you sure? He might need

something.” “If he can’t be without me for a day, we’ve got problems.” James grinned. “Maybe Uncle Jesse’s lonely and wants to be here with us,” JR suggested. Lizzie had almost forgotten he was within earshot. “Uncle Jesse’s never lonely. He’s got a lot of friends.” James winked at Lizzie. Lizzie gave him a meaning glare, warning him to keep the

conversation kid friendly. “I have friends, but I still like to be home with Mom and Gramps.” JR poured dirt from an old favorite sippy cup into his yellow Tonka truck. “I bet Uncle Jesse feels the same way about being with you.” James knelt and straightened one of the trucks. “You’re cool kid, you know that?” “I know. Mom says it all the time.” JR hugged James.

Watching them, Lizzie’s eyes filled. Both were trying hard to make their first days special. Somehow, the years James had missed didn’t seem to matter to either of them. They were happy to be together now. Living in the present was a skill Lizzie didn’t possess, but James and JR seemed comfortable looking neither forward nor back. “Well, I’ve got another cabin to clean.” Lizzie spun toward cabin

number two. No use getting mushy over a man and his son. “I’ll grab the pressure washer and start spraying down the outsides,” James called after her. JR called, “I’m helping Dad.” Throat clogged, Lizzie opened the cabin’s screen door and looked over her shoulder at JR and James headed to the shed. JR had known James for two days and already he chose James over her. Lizzie felt a pang of jealousy. She understood it had to be because James was so

new in his life, but still the twinge was there. Forcing herself to shake it off, she glanced at her watch. Another hour and they’d have to get cleaned up for the rodeo. Rather than worry about what might happen, she needed to deal with the stuff in her control. Like getting this second cabin spruced up. Heck, if James showed up tomorrow as promised, she’d have all of the cabins ready to go by mid-month. All she’d need then was customers.

And money for new pillows and the breakfast part of the bargain. Save tomorrow’s worries for tomorrow, her mother’s voice whispered another favorite saying inside her head. Today has enough problems of its own. Lizzie smiled wryly. Only now did she realize how wise her mom had been. Maybe someday she’d learn to accept advice before she had to learn from her mistakes. •••

Cleaning the second cabin took half the time of the first now that she’d found a rhythm. Carrying her load of discard pillows toward the main house, she searched the yard for signs of James and JR. They’d completed the power washing and the lawn area was empty and quiet. She glanced at the river, calling, “Time to get ready for the rodeo. JR? James?” Then headed for the house — — where she walked through the kitchen door and into a smiling

James. “Here, let me take that.” He grabbed the pillows from her and turned to look for a trash bag. “What are you guys doing, taking a break while I worked?” Lizzie frowned at JR who was standing on a chair in front of the table. “Get down from there, how many times do I have to tell you?” JR jumped to the floor. “Tahdah.” “Very nice, now get upstairs and change into the clothes on your

bed.” Lizzie ruffled JR’s hair and then she saw the bouquet of spring wild flowers in the middle of the oak table. “Oh, JR, they’re beautiful.” “That’s what we were doing. Picking you flowers.” JR beamed at her. She pulled him into a hug. Whatever had she been thinking? She didn’t need to be jealous of the time JR chose to spend with James. Her son still loved his mommy. She

smiled at James, who leaned against the doorway, watching. “Thank you.” “Dad helped. He said you were working hard and deserved a treat.” JR shot a look at James, then turned his attention back to Lizzie. “You really like them?” “I love the flowers and the thought. Thanks, buddy.” Lizzie stood. “Now go get ready.” JR flew up the stairs. “We’re going to the rodeo again.”

“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” Lizzie joked. “And thank you for the flowers. They are beautiful.” “JR’s idea.” James walked closer. “Somehow I doubt that.” If she reached out she could run her hands up his arms, touch those shoulders. It was a shame James had retrieved his shirt. The black tee hugged his body, reminding Lizzie of the man underneath. Her hands twitched.

“You deserve flowers every day.” He leaned in. Lizzie’s eyes closed, waiting for the kiss. She could feel his breath on her face, warm and hinting of mint. Then his lips touched hers and she fell into the kiss. Soft and tender at first, as if James waited for her to stop him. When she responded, he deepened the kiss. She reached up and pulled his head closer, her hands touching those shoulders she’d been thinking

about all morning. James groaned, interrupting the kiss. “We have to get ready for the rodeo.” He held her close, arms around her waist. “Really?” Her eyes danced as she thought about the things she’d rather do than drive into town and sit on wooden bleachers, watching cows run around a pen. “Do you want to explain why we aren’t going to JR?” James brushed a cobweb off her cheek. “Because I don’t.”

“Sure, leave me with the hard stuff.” Lizzie touched his face. His lips. What the heck was she doing? JR was upstairs. She tried to take a step backwards, but James pulled her back. “Stop. We are going to talk about this.” “Talk about what, James? This?” She made a back-and-forth finger motion between them. “This is what it’s always been, hot and

ready to run out of control. If you mean something else, quit dancing and speak.” James held her gaze. “Tonight’s probably going to be crazy. I need to break the news about JR to Jesse. And he and I need to talk about our partnership. This changes it. JR changes it. He and I have to figure that out.” For a long moment Lizzie looked at him, saw the earnestness and sincerity written in with the passion on his face. And she wanted

to believe him the way he’d believed her about JR, without thought or question. Accept his desire to make things different at face value. But. But no matter how much of the last six years — or really all the years since his mother had left and that included all of the years Lizzie had known him — seemed on the surface to be about Jesse, the truth was that James was every bit the rodeo gypsy that his brother was. He was a cowboy, and cowboys never stayed in one place for long.

Sobered by realization, this time when she pushed, she broke free of James’s hold and headed for the stairs. “I’ll be ready to go in ten minutes,” she said. “Lizzie?” James asked. Not trusting her voice to hide the rising lump of emotion, she sprinted up the stairs into her bedroom. Why had she allowed James into her heart a second time? Maybe because he was never really out of it, the voice inside her said. She shut it down. James was here

for JR. He wanted her, yes, the same way he’d wanted her in high school. But they were adults now, with responsibilities. A child. She would have to figure out a way to be around James without letting her emotions running wild. His words came back to her. He needed to talk to Jesse. That was true, as far as it went, she knew that. Still, the more she thought about it, the angrier she got. Why did every action or decision have to involve Jesse?

Because this is new to James and Jesse’s family, Jesse’s blood. And because keeping watch over Jesse has been James’s life since forever. The problem was, JR was James’s blood, too. And as his mother, JR’s needs would trump Jesse’s every single damn day of the week and three times on Sunday. If James couldn’t see his way clear to choose his son over his brother … . Well then no matter how much Lizzie wanted to jump James’s

bones and be jumped in return she would just have to remember that she was a grownup. JR was her child, and James was the bad influence she’d have to keep herself and her son away from.

CHAPTER SEVEN James glanced back at the banged up import following him down the mountain. Every time Jesse’s name came up, Lizzie’s defenses went up. He understood that to a point. Jesse had been the reason they left. And one of the reasons he’d broken up with her that May evening. She wanted him to follow her to

Portland. Attend school with her or find a job, anything to keep the two of them together. But he’d chosen to go with Jesse. Jesse needed him. Lizzie should have understood that. It wouldn’t have been forever. Instead, she’d made him choose. And it had been forever. What James had thought would be a summer on the rodeo circuit had turned into five years of managing his brother’s increasingly successful career.

While Lizzie came home to raise his son, alone. Yeah, she had a right to be mad. This time would be different. This time he chose her — and JR — if she’d let him. James figured he had one shot at this. Especially with Cash hanging around, looking for a pre-built family. James’s family. “Do I have a gramma?” The voice from the backseat surprised James. He adjusted the mirror and met JR’s eyes. The boy

sat strapped into a booster seat. James hadn’t even known such a thing existed before Lizzie dumped it into the truck. Apparently kids couldn’t sit in the front. Something to do with the air bags being too strong. James had a lot to learn. He and Jesse used to ride in the bed of their father’s F-150 no seat belts, no seats. “Your grandma died, buddy.” James glanced up in the mirror, wondering what had brought on this conversation.

“Not Grammy. I know Grammy died. I remember her hugs and she smelled like Mom’s cookies.” JR leaned forward. “I want to know about your mom. Where is she?” James shook his head. No way could he tell JR that his and Jesse’s mother had dumped them the night she split from his dad. About her promises to come back for them that never came true. Two years ago James hired a private investigator to find her. He didn’t know what he expected, but

the trail dead-ended in Vegas two years after she left. James often wondered how good an investigator the man was, or if it really was possible for people to disappear without a trace in this day and age the way she apparently had. Until, that is “Angie” and her lies showed up. In the backseat, JR made an mmm-ing noise, waiting for an answer. “No grandma, no grandpa.” Poor kid, he’d probably been hoping

his long lost dad would appear with at least a new set of grandparents, if not a bustle of cousins. “But you have a new uncle.” “Yeah, Uncle Jesse. Does he have kids?” God, let’s hope not. “No. There’s just the two of us.” James glanced back at Lizzie’s car. “So did your mom and dad die?” JR kept at it like a starving dog with a chicken bone. “JR, they’re gone. I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay. Now you have me and Mom.” JR turned around to look out the back window. “She’s a good mom. She’ll take care of you.” James grinned. Now the kid was trying to make him feel better. Lizzie had done a great job with him. James hoped he wouldn’t screw things up by stepping into the picture late. Too bad there wasn’t an owner’s manual on how to raise a five-year-old son. He turned the truck onto the main road. Two miles from the

rodeo grounds, the traffic on the highway ground to a halt. Glancing at the clock, they were still two hours away from Jesse’s ride. Based on the number of pickups in line ahead of them, they might just make it. “Why’d we stop?” JR strained against the seat belt trying to see. “Too many people want to get to the same place we do.” Another glance in his side mirror caught Lizzie staring at him. She quickly averted her eyes when she saw him

looking. “I bet your mom’s bored with no one to talk to.” “She says she never gets a quiet moment. Maybe she’s happy.” JR turned and waved until Lizzie waved back. “Or she’s rocking out to the radio.” “The radio doesn’t work. We sing songs all the way to town. Maybe she’s singing.” James sneaked another quick look in his side view. Nope, didn’t look like she was singing. Looked

like she was gearing up for the worst. For nothing, he hoped. The phone in his pocket vibrated. He pushed the Bluetooth button on the dash and answered. “This is James.” “Where are you dude?” Jesse’s voice boomed over the speakers. “You didn’t come back to the room last night. I thought we’d have some time to talk.” “I’m on the highway outside the rodeo grounds. We’ll be there in a few minutes.” James cringed,

realizing he’d said we. Maybe Jesse hadn’t heard. But like the five-year-old in the backseat, Jesse picked up everything James wasn’t ready to explain. “We? Is that why you didn’t show up last night? You found a little honey? Or are you doing the deed with Lizzie.” “No, he’s with me,” JR called out. “Who’s that?” “JR Hudson,” JR called back.

James grabbed the cell and pushed the button to take the conversation private. “Look Jesse, we need to talk.” “Sounds like it.” Jesse sounded thoughtful. “Well, you know where to find me.” He hung up. James shook his head. That had gone well. Jesse could ask any of the locals everything he wanted to know about JR Hudson. Probably even find out that James was JR’s dad. Particularly since James had introduced JR to Mr. Cooper as his

son before he’d said anything to his brother. Great thinking, Ace. “Who was that?” JR’s voice broke into James’s muddled thoughts. “Uncle Jesse. He’s waiting for us at the rodeo grounds.” “Do you think he’ll let me sit on a bull?” James choked. “Those bulls are dangerous. Don’t even think about climbing on one. It’s not like riding a sheep.” No wonder Lizzie wasn’t

keen on JR mutton busting this year. Raising a child was a nightmare waiting to happen — especially when they had ideas like this. JR hung his head. “I just asked. No need to get mad.” “Just make sure you stay right with me when we meet your uncle. I don’t want to explain to your mom how you got hurt the first time you were on my watch.” “Okay.” JR turned around in his seat, straining to see Lizzie,

waving big to get her attention. When she finally waved back, JR seemed satisfied and turned back to James. “Maybe Uncle Jesse would let me help him get ready. Gramps used to ride bulls and he said he had lots of people helping him get ready to ride. I’m a good helper.” “I know you are. Look how you helped me clean up around the cabins.” James grinned. Jesse had no idea what he was in for. James didn’t know whether to drop the bomb before Jesse rode or give him

a few minutes more of irresponsibility before he turned into someone’s uncle. “Are we there yet?” “Soon, buddy, soon.” ••• Lizzie stuffed the booster seat back into her car before catching up with James and JR. She didn’t know what kind of fireworks would happen when James broke the news, but she wanted to be ready to head home if things got heated.

James hadn’t been happy about handing the seat over. Still, for all James’s talk about being there for JR, if Jesse got stubborn about this, Lizzie didn’t want JR to end up in the middle of hers and the brothers’ ghosts, hearing things he didn’t need to hear. “I get a corndog for lunch. Right?” JR watched the crowd buzzing around them. “If that’s what you want.” James put his arm around Lizzie

when she walked up. “Right, Lizzie?” “The boy would eat nothing else if I’d let him. When we went to the state fair last year he ate five in one day.” Lizzie glanced around the grounds. From what she could see, most of the town was already inside while the rest of it was with them in the parking lot. “Big crowd today.” “That’s good. Means the purses will be bigger than advertised.” James watched the barrel racing as

they stood in line to pay their entrance fees. “Does Jesse make much money riding?” Lizzie pulled JR closer as a horse and rider stepped close to the ticket line on their way back to the stables. “He didn’t at first. We ate a lot of fast food value meals at first. You wouldn’t believe how much food twenty bucks will buy if you’re careful.” James swung JR up on his shoulders. “Can you see better?”

“I can see the corndog stand,” JR crowed. “He’s got his priorities straight.” James laughed, holding on to JR’s legs. He returned to Lizzie’s question. “After that first year we knew which rodeos to avoid and which ones paid. Once Jesse hit his first championship, we were in the money.” “He makes because he’s a champion? I didn’t know the rodeos worked that way.” There was a lot

she didn’t know about the business of rodeo. James shook his head. “They don’t. He makes more because sponsors pay all his expenses, including my salary, and he keeps the purse money.” He shrugged. “The kicker is you have to have that championship buckle before the big guys will look at you.” “Do you like managing his career?” Lizzie searched his face, wondering what she expected to find.

James’s lips twisted. “Truthfully? When we were building the ‘Jesse’ brand, it was challenging. I liked that. Now it’s a lot of travel and public relations bull — ” “James, little ears.” She pointed her chin toward JR. “Sorry. All the … .” he hesitated trying to find an appropriate word, “stuff you have to do for the sponsors is pretty overwhelming. The saying ‘there’s no free lunch’ is especially true in the rodeo world.

Part of Jesse’s job is to speak to corporate types in suits and ties while they ooh and ahh around the bull penned up in their parking lots. He’s their trick pony to pull out and show off. It’s not fun.” “So why do you stay?” “Jesse loves it. And before this weekend, there was no other family.” He bounced JR to get his attention. “Hold on, buddy. I have to pull out money for this nice lady to let us in.”

“Let us in, let us in,” JR chanted. “You two are impossible.” Lizzie plucked the twenty from James’s hand. “Two adults and one child. Or maybe it’s two children and one adult?” The girl laughed. “Boys grow up to be big boys with bigger toys.” “Isn’t that the truth.” Lizzie grinned at the teenager, who handed her change that Lizzie plucked it into the pocket of the western chambray shirt James

wore. The blue made his tan skin stand out and made her fingers itch to caress more than fabric. “Just like Mickey D’s. Change back from your dollar.” “Yeah, but we haven’t eaten yet.” James pointed to the corndog stand. “Let’s get food then find seats.” Ten minutes later, carrying corndogs and drinks, they sat in the middle of the stands, watching the end of the barrel racing. Lizzie watched the girls race around with a

pang of regret. She’d raced in high school, but it wasn’t her passion. She’d wanted to go to journalism school and become the next Diane Sawyer. Being rodeo queen was fun, but in journalism, she could have seen a life traveling the world. Her mom had even gotten her to take a few basic online college classes toward that end before she’d gotten too sick to leave her bed. Lizzie had quit studying to take care of her. Wryly, she realized that she could have done much of that same

travelling and story-writing with JR in tow if she hadn’t let her mom force her to choose stay-in-oneplace child-rearing over finding James years ago. If she had though, JR would never have known his grandmother. Cripe, she and James had both made choices because of the family they knew, hadn’t they? “Your mom used to be the best barrel racer in town,” she heard James tell JR. “Really, Mom? Why’d you quit? It would have been cool to

have a rodeo mom.” JR’s eyes bright, imagining the life he might be leading. Lizzie chucked his chin. “It’s kind of hard to lean down and stay centered on a horse when you’re pregnant.” She smiled. “Besides, there’s no place on the saddle for a car seat.” “Mom! I meant after I was born. Grammy would have watched me.” JR’s eyes were wide as the next rider burst into the arena.

Lizzie pulled him into a side hug. “I know she would have. I wanted to be your mom more than I wanted to ride horses.” James eyed her. “You’d make a great journalist, Liz.” She blushed and took a bite of corndog. He remembered. “Thanks. Someday I’ll get my degree.” James studied her seriously. “What’s wrong with now? I’m here, I can help. The online degrees are better all the time, or you could go to school part time.”

“James Sullivan, you are horrible.” Taken aback, Lizzie stared at him. “First you want to help me get the cabins ready to reopen, now you want me to go back to school? When? You going to put extra days in my week? Because that’s what it’ll take to do everything.” She shook her head. It wasn’t like she hadn’t considered going back to school. Boise State had a great online program, but school cost money, even online. Every time she thought

she had enough saved up to get started, something at the house broke, JR got sick, or the economy tanked. Or Mom died. Yes, exactly. That, too. She and her dad were both having trouble coming back from that. “Lizzie, look.” James’s jaw worked around a truth he hated, one he’d kept to himself for a long time. “I … well, Jesse and I know something about being in the welfare system.” He looked away

from her to stare at nothing. “When mom left and dad started drinking, there stopped being enough. Dad would lose jobs, go on benders, not come home. Social Services got involved. They wanted to split us up, put us in foster care. Dad’d sober up long enough to keep that from happening then it would fall apart again.” He took a deep breath, looked hard at her. “The point is, I don’t want you and JR left in the system when there’s help out there to change things for you. Whether

it’s Social Services programs or you apply for scholarships or grants or you take it from me. I want you to take it from me, Lizzie. If not for yourself then for JR at least. I have the right and the responsibility to provide for him no matter what you let me do for you.” Mouth opening and closing, Lizzie stared at him, not knowing how to respond. Her goal from the moment she’d seen James outside River’s Edge with JR had been to get through this first weekend

without the sky falling in. This … this was cards on the table. She just didn’t know if the cards she threw away would be better or worse than the ones she received to replace them. She needed to know because she couldn’t gamble with JR’s life, his emotions. If she could see just one step ahead … . With that one wish, fate came over and sat down. “Hey, darlings. Ready to watch Jesse ride?”

A woman with big, Texas hair, wearing an electric blue satin western shirt and matching jeans plopped onto the riser next to Lizzie. The same woman who’d been hanging with Jesse Friday at the park, Lizzie realized. Close up, the woman’s face was lined under the caked on makeup making her older than Lizzie thought — old enough, in fact, to be her mother. What the heck was Jesse doing, pulling dates from the over forties? Lizzie’s questions took a backseat to

her mother’s insistence she always be polite to her elders. She swallowed a grin. “JR’s been looking forward to watching Jesse since yesterday. Winning the mutton busting competition put some ideas into his head about his future.” JR abandoned watching the empty arena and turned to the woman beside Lizzie. “Jesse’s my new uncle. And this is my dad, James Sullivan.”

Leave it to JR. Lizzie winced and looked at James, not knowing what to say. Eyes telling Lizzie their conversation wasn’t finished, James said, “I’m sorry, I should have made introductions. Angie, this is Lizzie Hudson and her son — ” he paused and grinned at JR, “ — I mean our son, JR. Liz, this is Angie. I’m sorry, I don’t know your last name now.” “Angie Dexter.” The woman stared at James for a long second. Lizzie caught the look. The woman

was waiting for James to say something. The pause went on long enough to be uncomfortable. Lizzie decided to fill the silence. “Nice to meet you, Angie. You’re friends with Jesse?” “You could say that.” Again, the woman focused on James, waiting for something. When James returned his attention to the arena, her face fell. She covered quickly, masking disappointment with a

smile. “JR, look how big you are. How old are you? Six?” “Five. I’ll be six next February. I’m starting kindergarten this year.” JR handed his corndog stick to his mother. “Can I have another one?” “You’re still hungry?” Lizzie pushed the miniature black cowboy hat back on his head. “Yup.” He grinned, smacking his mustard-covered lips. “Wipe your mouth and we’ll go in a second.” She handed him a napkin.

“I’ll take him.” James stood up and reached for JR’s hand. Lizzie’s eyes filled at the sight. She should have done this years ago, should have trusted James with JR’s heart if not hers. She watched them make their way down the stands and disappear into the crowd. “He seems like a good dad.” Lizzie had almost forgotten about Angie. “He’s been great. Especially since I only broke the

news about JR yesterday. JR’s head over heels already.” “It must be hard to share him after all these years.” The woman’s insight shook Lizzie and she responded in kind. “Honestly, I’m scared to death. What if James only chooses to be a dad when it suits him? JR’s heart will be broken. I don’t know if I’ll be able to put him back together.” Lizzie stopped. She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have unloaded on you.”

“Why do you think James will want to leave?” Angie put a hand on Lizzie’s shoulder. “Because Jesse’s all he ever had and James has never been able to say no to him.” She smiled ruefully. “Again. Sorry. You’re Jesse’s friend and I’m badmouthing him. I can’t believe I’m this bitchy.” “Probably that time of the month, honey.” Angie gave her a hug. “Don’t worry, this conversation is our little secret. What girls say to each other stays between them.”

Somehow, despite the shiny blue and rhinestone costume Angie wore, Lizzie felt a kinship. She hadn’t felt this comforted since before her mother died. What’s inside is much more important than the cover. Another of her mom’s favorite bits of wisdom. “Now, let’s put away those druthers.” Angie took off her scarf and wiped away tears Lizzie hadn’t realized she was shedding. “The boys are heading back this way. You

don’t want them to see you upset now, do you?” She pulled back and surveyed her handiwork. “That’s better. Here, take a drink of your soda. Sweets always makes me stronger.” Lizzie shook her head. How had this woman gotten into her head so quickly? Besides her aborted weekend with Barb, Lizzie hadn’t had much female companionship since her mother died. She’d missed it.

“Mom, we got French fries, too. Now all I need is ice cream and I’ll have a balanced meal, just like you always say.” JR plopped down beside her and offered her a crinkle fry smothered in secret sauce. Lizzie took one. “How in the world is that a balanced meal? Even with the ice cream?” JR sighed. “The corndog is my meat, the French fry my veggie, and the ice cream my dairy. Or maybe the corndog is veggie too since it’s

corn?” He regarded James for an answer. “I don’t know, JR. I think nutrition is one of the subjects I’ll let your mom be the expert on.” James eyes danced. “So, Lizzie, is a corndog both meat and vegetable?” Lizzie rolled her eyes. “How about neither one and we declare today total junk food day.” She stole another fry. “Sounds like a smart woman.” Angie leaned forward. “Look, the bull riding’s starting.”

JR climbed onto the bleacher seat to see the arena better. “Is Uncle Jesse riding first?” “Sit down,” Lizzie admonished him. “They’ll announce the riders in order. You can stand up when Jesse’s name is called. JR didn’t have long to wait. The field of riders was slim, and Jesse the most experienced of the contestants. Only four of the riders met their eight-second ride requirement by the time Jesse was in the shoot.

The announcers bantered back and forth, stalling for time between riders. “Next up on the next to last bull is Shawnee’s very own, Jesse Sullivan. Jesse hasn’t ridden our rodeo for years, folks, but we’ve enjoyed watching him win two consecutive national championships in Vegas. Let’s give him a warm welcome home.” The announcer paused waiting for the crowd to settle after it gave Jesse a standing ovation. “We might be

seeing a little more of Jesse soon. Rumor has it he spent the day looking at local ranches yesterday. Maybe the rooster is coming home to roost?” Lizzie shot James a look. He appeared as shocked as she felt. “Were you with Jesse yesterday?” James leaned over to Angie who tried to ignore him. “Angie! Were you and Jesse looking at real estate yesterday?” “Now, James, don’t get all upset. It was supposed to be a

surprise. Jesse and I wanted to tell you.” Angie gave up looking at the arena to focus on James. “Here he comes, here he comes.” JR stood up, blocking James and Angie from continuing. James leaned back and caught Angie’s eye behind JR. “We aren’t done.” Angie tossed up her hands and Lizzie sighed. James kept saying conversations weren’t finished, but the important ones always seemed to get permanently sidetracked. She

didn’t want JR paying the price if the next conversational crisis distracted James right back out of his life. “Well, if Jesse is coming home, he better stay on Satan or he won’t hear the last of it down at Daisy’s,” the announcer told the crowd. “Let’s watch and see.” The buzzer rang and the gate slid open. Satan lived up to his name, jerking and twisting, but Jesse was like a dancer atop him. He anticipated the bull’s moves and

adjusted his body to flow with the animal’s movements. Lizzie had never seen anyone ride so smoothly. Jesse seemed to read the bull’s thoughts. This is why he does it, she understood suddenly, and why James doesn’t leave him. Beauty and poetry on the back of a bull. Jesse loves it and James has to help him be what he is. Heart aching, Lizzie realized that if James could do the same thing for JR, whatever JR

eventually chose to do, she would forgive him anything. The buzzer went off and the cowboys went to help Jesse off Satan’s back before the bull could do any damage. Jesse stood in the middle of the arena waving to the crowd. Then the rodeo clowns escorted him to a gate and he disappeared. “That was great!” JR fairly vibrated with excitement. “I want to ride bulls just like Uncle Jesse. Can we go meet him?”

James glanced at Lizzie for permission before he said, “Sure, let’s go introduce you to your uncle.” He stood and took JR’s hand, telling Lizzie and Angie, “Come or stay, it doesn’t matter to me.” Lizzie searched his face. Clearly he was still angry over hearing about Jesse’s and Angie’s plans from a loudspeaker. What she wanted to know was where would that lead him — and what it meant to both her and JR.

Only one way to find out. She rose and placed a hand on Angie’s shoulder. “Let’s go congratulate Jesse.” Glued to her seat, Angie watched James and JR walk down the bleacher stairs, She looked fearful, as though she was about to refuse. Then … . “It’s now or never I guess.” “Atta girl.” Lizzie helped Angie to her feet and together they followed the man and the boy through the crowd.

Walking into the firestorm only one of them expected. ••• Jesse held court in the rider’s area, surrounded by girls. Most of them had been in the barrel racing competition. James even recognized the current Shawnee Rodeo Queen. He shook his head. Jesse was in his element. His brother noticed him through the mass of estrogen and waved him forward. “Hey girls, I’ve got to talk to my

brother. I’ll be down at The Riding Club later tonight so save me a dance.” He waited for the women to disperse before addressing James, “Did you see the ride? I couldn’t have asked for a better bull. I owned him.” JR piped up, “You were super! I’m going to be a bull rider.” “You are?” Jesse bent down to his level. “You want a picture with me? Or an autograph?” JR shrugged his shoulders. “I guess. But really, I want you to

teach me to ride bulls.” “Your mom would love hearing you say that.” James grinned at him. He pulled JR closer. “Jesse, I’d like you to meet your nephew, JR.” Jesse stared at him. “He’s your kid?” “Yep.” James waited for the challenge. “I can see that. He looks like you. What are you, six?” “I’m five.” JR stared at Jesse. “So you’ll do it?”

“I’ll do what?” Jesse popped JR’s hat. “Teach me to ride bulls.” JR straightened his back. “I already know how to ride.” “Yeah, sheep.” James slapped him on the back. To Jesse, “You don’t have anything to say?” “It’s about time she told you?” Jesse stood and leaned against the wooden corral slats. “What do you want me to say, dude?” “You knew?”

“Bob let it slip one day when I called. I heard JR crying in the background. He must have been about six months old.” “You’ve known since — wait.” James wasn’t sure he’d heard his brother. “You’ve been talking to Lizzie’s dad ever since we left and you never told me?” “JR wasn’t my secret to tell.” He nodded toward where JR stood at the fence to the bull corral, watching the animals. “He looks like a Sullivan, don’t you think?”

“Damn it, Jesse!” James turned toward the corral, “JR, be careful. Stay out of there.” “He’s going to be a hellion. You’re going to have problems, you know.” “Yeah, I get that.” No wonder he’d found JR by himself at the sheep pens. No one could keep track of him without hogtying him. Feeling overwhelmed, he took a few just-in-case steps toward JR. “When did you and Lizzie’s dad become best friends?” Jesse had never even

hinted about JR or his talks with Bob. Jesse shrugged. “I started talking to Bob a long time ago. Bob took pity on me when I’d go over to the cabins looking for you and Lizzie. He let me tag along with him.” Jesse watched JR pick up a piece of straw and put it in his mouth. “Losing his wife hit him pretty hard. He called a lot that summer.” “I thought you were dating Becky then. So it wasn’t her on the

phone, it was Bob?” Eyes on JR, James crouched, hands on his knees. A sense of betrayal unfurled inside him. His world had turned upside down and Jesse had known all along. “Sometimes it was Becky. But when we broke up, I let you think the rest of the calls were from her, too.” Jesse nodded toward JR. “I guess I should have told you. But once I left your number with Bob, I thought sure Lizzie would dial your number.”

“She said she didn’t have it before I gave her my card.” James worked his mouth around something that tasted bad. “But Bob hasn’t been himself for a while now, either, so maybe … .” He shook his head. It didn’t matter. Everyone had known about JR but him. “That’s why you wanted to ride this rodeo. So I could meet JR.” “That’s one reason.” Jesse nodded at the end of the barn. “Lizzie and Angie are here.”

••• James stood and waited for Lizzie. “Sorry I took off. I wanted to talk to Jesse.” Lizzie took a quick breath. “You told him?” Again that sense of betrayal unsettled him. “JR did. Five years ago when Jesse and your dad were on the phone, JR started crying. Jesse knew all along.” James shook his head. “He kept it a secret.”

Lizzie stared at Jesse. “You knew?” “I know lots of things.” Jesse strode over to pluck up JR who’d been inching his way toward the back of the barn. “Come back here. Those horses aren’t as friendly as they look.” “Yes, Uncle Jesse.” “That’s going to take some getting used to.” Jesse set JR down and gave Angie a hug. “What did you think of the ride?”

“You were magnificent as usual.” Angie smiled. James focused on Jesse, trying to ignore Angie. “You’re looking at land here?” “Well, kind of. We went out with a realtor yesterday. But I’m not the one looking for a place. Angie is.” Angie watched James as she said, “I’m coming home, James.” “I didn’t know you were from the area.” Lizzie looked confused.

Angie glanced at Jesse who nodded. “She’s family, too.” She took two steps toward James. Then stopped when he took two steps backward, glaring at her. Angie turned to Lizzie. “I’m James and Jesse’s mother.” JR came and wrapped his arms around James’s legs. “I told you I might have a gramma.” Dazed, James clutched JR tight to his legs. Letting the little boy’s absolute faith in miracles ground

him while the remainder of James’s world collapsed and rebuilt itself. His mother had returned to Shawnee. Finally.

CHAPTER EIGHT James sat on a bale of straw with JR perched on his knee. Nearby Angie filled them in on the short version of her life after Shawnee. James had heard a portion of the story months ago, but unlike Jesse, he didn’t believe a word coming out of the woman’s mouth.

“My full name is Lorraine Angelica Chapman Sullivan Dexter. When I left Shawnee and married Dex, I started going by my middle name.” “How’d you marry someone else?” James head spun. And one thought pierced through the muddle. Please don’t tell me my mother is not only a runaway deadbeat but a bigamist, too. “Your father and I divorced a year after I left. Didn’t he tell you?”

“Apparently no one tells me anything.” James glared at everyone except JR. “What, am I so delicate I can’t take the truth?” “You want the truth?” Jesse asked at the same time Lizzie sputtered, “James, that isn’t fair. You know — ” “I’m not mad at you, Lizzie.” James sent Jesse a murderous glare and ignored Angie altogether. “You’re not mad at me, right, Dad?” JR put his arms around James neck and turned his head to

face him. “Because I wanted to find you. And gramma.” “I’m not mad at anyone, JR.” James hugged him. “It’s a lot to take in.” “Good, because we’re family. Now all we need is Grandpa Bob and we can eat Thanksgiving dinner together and Christmas and my birthday.” Just like that, JR had it all planned. James shook his head. He didn’t want JR falling for Angie’s bullshit when he knew she could

disappear exactly as she had before. His fury centered on a target. He’d known for months that she wanted to talk to him, to explain. He’d put it off, not wanting to listen to her lies. Her truths. He didn’t like the fact that JR was here, but hell, might as well do it now instead of leaving anything more to chance. Chance hadn’t served him particularly well this weekend. He took a deep breath, asked the only question he could formulate, “Why did you leave

without saying goodbye? No cards, no notes, nothing.” Aw, shit. Exactly what he’d done to Lizzie. “I sent cards.” Angie stepped toward him. “And letters. After the divorce, everything came back return to sender. I guess your dad thought I’d divorced the two of you, too. In a way, he was right. I was young and stupid. I thought he’d be able to give you a better life without me. You were happy here. I was suffocating.”

“We were happy as a family. Once you left, life went to hell. Jesse and I had to raise ourselves. Dad wouldn’t even let us see Grams.” James remembered the days they didn’t see their dad at all. “No wonder we were wild, we never had a chance.” “Dude, she’s here now.” Jesse, as usual, saw the bright side of things. “So, what? Forgive and forget? That’s your advice?” James laughed bitterly. “This is coming from the

man who knew I had a kid and didn’t think to tell me.” “James!” Lizzie rose, took JR’s hand and tugged him away from his father. “Come on, kiddo. Let’s see if we can find pony rides or something while these guys sort their issues without you.” “Lizzie … .” James tried. “No.” She spun on him, putting herself between JR and the Sullivan boys. “My son is not a tug toy and neither am I. He shouldn’t have to listen to this.”

She turned to march away, only to have JR ask, “What did you mean, we’re not tug toys? Why are you mad at dad and Uncle Jesse? Did Uncle Jesse know about me and not tell dad?” Grimacing, Lizzie shut her eyes, drew a breath and dropped to her knees in front of JR. “JR, sometimes adults don’t think before they speak, just like kids. It shouldn’t happen, but it does. Right now dad and Angie and Uncle Jesse are talking about things that

happened a long time ago before I ever knew them. I don’t understand all of it, so I don’t expect you to. And I don’t think you should hear any more of it when your dad is so…” She hesitated over the word ‘angry’ and changed it. “When your dad is so upset. He needs space to work this out and I don’t think you and I can help him with that.” “Oh.” JR’s brows beetled then smoothed. “But if we go ride ponies now, we can come back and do more stuff with dad and Uncle

Jesse and Gramma Angie when they’re done, right?” Lizzie huffed air. No, she wanted to say. Then we can go home. Instead she nodded. “Yes. If your dad and Uncle Jesse don’t kill each other, we can come back.” “Good.” JR turned to James. “Don’t kill Uncle Jesse before he can teach me to ride bulls.” James melted. “I promise.” Satisfied, JR took Lizzie’s hand and the two of them walked away.

Leaving James with his heart in pieces, looking for a way make things whole. He looked at Jesse. “I don’t like being kept in the dark, dude. I don’t care whose secret you think you’re keeping, if it has to do with me or my family — ” he canted his head after Lizzie and JR “ — you fill me in. Got it?” Jesse hunched a shoulder. “Yeah.” “Good. Now you two are settled, can we get back to me?”

Angie flipped her blonde hair with a practiced hand. “Aren’t you excited about my news?” “Seriously?” James returned his stare to his mother. “You want to move home and start being a mom now? What? Too old for chorus lines?” Angie took a breath. Let it out. “You’re right. I was a terrible mother. I left you and your brother and your father because I wanted to dance. No excuses. I sucked at being a housewife. And then, after a

while, I didn’t know how to come back. Even though I wanted to.” “So now, you want to? You want to be my mother?” James almost spit the word at her. Angie offered him a crooked smile. “I may not be the mother you deserve, but I’m the one you’ve got. That’s all I can be. I want to get to know you. Your brother and I have been talking for the last six months. We thought being home in Shawnee, maybe you’d open up.” She looked up at Jesse for support.

Instead of leaping into the fray, Jesse took a step back and, for the first time in memory, let James lead. “This isn’t home,” James said intently. “I don’t have anywhere that’s home. The only good memories I have of this place are the times Lizzie and I were together.” Everything he’d ever asked God for in the middle of the long cold nights when his dad was passed out on the couch and Jesse slept in the twin next to him had

come to him at once: his mother came back. He and Lizzie had a son. He had a great job working with his brother. Yet all of it felt wrong. Be careful what you wish for. He shook his head. “I need to think.” With that he took off into the crowd, feeling like a ten-year-old again. Lost, confused, alone. Looking for answers and not liking the ones he got. •••

After too much excitement, JR had fallen asleep on the drive home. He was ecstatic to have a grandmother. When they’d met up after the pony ride, Angie had promised to come for coffee the next day so she and Lizzie could talk. Get to know each other. Lizzie grinned as she tucked the sleeping JR into bed. Angie would be a different type of grandmother. But for JR, knowing one more piece of his family made him happy. And that’s all she could ask.

She changed into sweats and an old tee shirt. Even without Barb it had still been a wild weekend. She felt bad for James. He’d found out about JR and his mom moving home in the span of forty-eight hours. No wonder he’d seemed shattered and distant when he finally rejoined them after talking with Jesse and Angie — then taken off again almost as quickly when JR started calling Angie “Gramma.” She put the teakettle on to boil and sat at the table, flipping

through her notebook with the ‘to do’s’ for her new life courtesy of her old one. “Mom, I hope you’ll help me through this. I’m praying I can be half the hostess you were.” “You’ll be better.” Her father’s voice came from the doorway. “Dad, I didn’t expect you home tonight.” Lizzie stood and headed to the fridge. “Have you eaten?” “Sit back down. Yes, I’ve eaten. We need to talk.” Bob Hudson sat in his favorite chair at the table and

rubbed his hand over a spot in the wood. “You want a cup of tea? Or I could make coffee.” Lizzie said, puzzled. So many ‘We have to talks’ this weekend. So many surprises that said no one had really talked to anyone else in years. So what didn’t she know about her father? He didn’t look drunk. But if he hadn’t been at the bar, where had he been? “I don’t need coffee.” He didn’t look at her. “Maybe a shot of whiskey.”

She rose to get it, but he stopped her. “It was a joke. Really, sit down.” He reached over and grabbed her hand. “You know I loved your mother.” “You’re upset about the cabins.” Lizzie jumped to conclusions. “I’m sorry, but James was here and fixed the things I couldn’t and — ” Her dad interrupted, “I’m not mad about the cabins. I think it’s a great idea. I’m glad James helped

you and that he knows about JR. It’s about time the two of you made peace with this.” “Then what do we need to talk about?” Lizzie sipped her tea, wondering if this was how James felt right before he learned about JR. She didn’t like being on this side of the surprise. Her dad drummed his fingers on the table. “You know Martha, right?” “Martha Peck? The lady who owns the tilapia farm down the

road?” Lizzie didn’t know where this conversation was going. “We’ve been seeing each other … .” “You’re dating?” Where had she been? “You could call it that. She asked me over to help her set up her fish farm and we got to talking. She’s kind of funny.” Bob grinned. “We started doing coffee every morning. And, well, I’ve asked her to marry me.”

“Wow.” Flummoxed, Lizzie sat back in her chair. Probably served her right, since she’d pulled the rug out from under James this weekend. “Liz, your mom’s been gone eighteen months. Don’t you want me to be happy?” “No, dad, it’s not that.” Lizzie struggled to put the misunderstanding right. “Of course I want you to be happy. I’m surprised, that’s all. I thought … I thought … . “ That you’d been

drinking your life away or going senile. She bit back a grin, glad to be wrong. “I don’t know what I thought.” She frowned suddenly. “Do you need me and JR to find our own place?” She didn’t know how that would work either financially or in terms of her plans for the cabins, but maybe she could just rent out four of them while she and JR temporarily lived in the fifth. Shocked, Bob stared at her. “Why would I want you to move? I’m moving into Martha’s place.

You and JR can spread out here.” He gestured toward the back yard. “Put in that play area JR’s been asking about. Make the place more kid friendly for your renters.” “You’re letting me stay here?” Her father shook his head as though wondering what it took to get through to her. “Of course, Liz, this is your home. Although if he had a bone in his cowardly body, James would man up and figure out a way to help take care of you and JR.” He tipped his chin at the

cookie jar. “You got any of those cookies left?” Lizzie got up, plated her father the last three cookies, and put the teakettle on to boil again. “Doesn’t Martha bake?” “Well, she does, but don’t mention this when you see her, because she has me on some low sugar diet crap. Says she wants me alive for the wedding.” Lizzie grinned. Her father needed a strong hand. Martha sounded like the woman for him. “I

won’t mention it. I’m happy for you.” “I hate leaving you and JR here alone. I thought after I talked to Jesse on Saturday maybe his brother would be over here, trying to make up for lost time.” “Yeah, about that. When did you and Jesse get so close? According to him, he’s known about JR for years.” She stared her father down. He had the grace to squirm. “Your mother said it wasn’t

anyone’s business but yours and James’s and I agreed. Until Jesse heard JR cry one night when we were talking. I couldn’t help that. He used to call every Sunday, to check in. Those boys needed family, even back then.” Bob polished off another cookie. “I didn’t realize the two of you had bonded.” Lizzie poured hot water over another teabag. The scent of cinnamon filled the kitchen.

“I could talk to him after your mom died. Jesse’s a good listener, that’s why he can ride those bulls the way he does. James was always too hotheaded to handle ’em well. If Jesse didn’t love the circuit so much I might think you fell for the wrong Sullivan boy.” Bob glanced up from the cookie plate. “Your mom was wrong to convince you not to tell James,” he said quietly. “He had a right to know. You had a right to tell him, expect him to be with you, or at least help you out.”

“She said he would just leave again.” Lizzie sank into the chair. “That JR would be better off not knowing his dad.” Her father’s face twisted in loving exasperation. “Honey, I loved your mother to death, but sometimes she made me mad. She had no right to force that decision on you.” He looked away. “Sometimes I think she did it because she was afraid of losing you. You always wanted to travel, just like those boys. That’s why she

talked me out of giving you James’s number when I got it from Jesse that night.” Lizzie squeezed her eyes shut on a sense of betrayal. Couldn’t change what had happened, could only learn from it and move on. “Whatever she did, I let her. I was scared James wouldn’t want JR or me and that would have been worse than not having him at all.” Lizzie hadn’t admitted the fear to anyone before, even her mother.

“But he does care. He might have trouble figuring out how to do it right, but I saw him with you this weekend. He cares.” Bob finished off the last of the cookies. “I’m going to pack a few things to take over to Martha’s. Will you be okay here alone? I’m only ten minutes away if you need me.” Lizzie’s smile was rueful. “We’ll be fine. We’ll miss you, but it’s not like you’re falling off the face of the earth.”

“That’s my girl. Always seeing the bright side.” Bob Hudson stood and hitched up his jeans in a practiced move. “None of my pants fit now. I’m going to have to carve more holes in this belt.” “You know where the cookies are kept.” Lizzie hugged her dad. “Congratulations. I’ll come over this week and meet your bride so we can start talking wedding plans. When are you going to make her an honest woman?”

“We’re talking about doing a red eye to Vegas. Maybe you could come?” “Sounds fun, but I don’t think Vegas is ready for JR.” “There’s plenty of people here in town who would watch the boy for a weekend. You need to loosen the apron strings, Elizabeth. He’s going to grow up whether you want him to or not.” “I’ll think about it. Now get out of here. If I’m going to pull off

reopening without you, I need to get some planning done.” “Thanks for taking on the reopening. I know it’s a lot of work. One good year and you’ll be in the black better than your mother and I ever were.” “It’s your home, too, if you ever need to come back.” Lizzie laid her head on her father’s shoulders. The world had definitely shifted in the last forty-eight hours. Good or bad, the important thing now was to get back on her feet. Her feelings about

James being back in the picture as JR’s father and, in time, maybe more … . Well, that would have to wait. She’d lost her dad tonight and gained a new stepmom. Somehow that seemed appropriate since James had gained a son and gotten back a mother he’d given up for dead years ago. She looked at the moon and said a silent prayer for both her father’s and James’s well-being. •••

It was as well someone prayed for him, given James’s current state of uncertainty. Nursing the same shot of tequila he’d ordered when he went in, James sat in the post-rodeoweekend quiet of a Shawnee bar, brooding. Images floated in and out of his head: Lizzie, JR, Jesse, and the prodigal mother who wanted to be called Angie. He chuckled to himself, thinking how JR already called her Gramma Angie. That

single word had seemed to set her back. Good. The bartender came by and tapped the counter in front of James. “How about some coffee?” James pushed the shot away. “Yeah, thanks. Coffee would be good.” Drinking wouldn’t cure what ailed him anyway. With everything that had happened, he felt like he’d aged twenty years in two days. Strange when all he’d ever wanted in his life was family. Now he had

more than he’d ever imagined dropped on him out of the blue and …. He wasn’t sure it was what he wanted after all. Oh, not JR. JR was the coolest thing no matter what, but the rest of them … . He didn’t know. That was why he’d finally left the family reunion and turned his phone off after calling his lawyer. Had to start arrangements for JR. As to the rest … hell, Lizzie had taken care of JR and his emergencies by herself since she

was pregnant with him. One more night of him being out of contact wouldn’t make any difference. James needed time to figure out what he was supposed to do now. What the heck he wanted. Once upon a time he’d wanted to follow Lizzie to school, maybe go into public relations or become a talent agent. When he’d chosen Jesse’s path, become Jesse’s manager, agent, and babysitter he’d done both without taking one college course. Trouble was, he

hated being Jesse’s sidekick. His secretary. Hated sucking up to sponsors. Hated taking care of the problems managing Jesse seemed to cause. Hated the realization that he’d spent his whole life following and cleaning up after someone else instead of just once choosing a path of his own. What do you want, James? Really? The answer was both easy and hard. He’d wanted Lizzie since the

first time they kissed in junior high. JR was a bonus. He was funny, smart and, James realized with a start, he loved him. How did you fall in love with a kid you’d just met? He glanced at the clock. Tenthirty. JR would be in bed, but maybe Lizzie would still be up. He needed to see where she wanted this thing to go. Figure out if they could shred the past in order to make some kind of present work.

He threw down a twenty and headed out, hoping it wasn’t too late. ••• Sitting on the couch, Lizzie saw James pull up — then sit outside for fifteen minutes with the engine off. What was he doing? Maybe she should go see. No. Whatever it was, James needed to make this decision himself. If he was leaving again, she

could wait to hurt. If he was staying …. That might be even harder. She listened to the crickets through the screen door. She’d sat in the dark, thinking, since her father left. With a few telling conversations, everything had changed. She was glad for her father, happy his distraction was love and not illness or alcohol, but it meant revising a few of her own tentative plans, too. With her dad gone, she’d have no in-house

handyman to see to the everyday fixes the cabins required; she’d have to figure that out. Figure out, too, how to cope without a built-in emotional safety net to keep her and JR out of harm’s way. James sitting outside in apparent indecision didn’t make her feel better about where the future might take them. He could be making up a visitation schedule and a child support payment plan. No matter what he said to the contrary, how things had felt between them

this morning before the rodeo, he didn’t have a commitment to her, only JR. He’d kissed her, loved her before, and still left. She sighed and stood. Might as well face the dragon or he would sit out there all night. She’d taken three steps before she realized he was standing at the screen. “You should lock up when it gets dark.” His voice drifted, warm and mellow, through the darkness. “The screen is latched.” She flipped the hook open.

“That wouldn’t keep an angry raccoon out of the house.” James stepped inside. “You need a deadbolt.” “On a screen door, James?” She said it to say something, to ground herself, when he closed the distance between them and the heat from his nearness enveloped her, causing her senses to scatter. She didn’t move aside. “Liz.” James leaned toward her. His lips dragged across her face, softly searching for her mouth.

When he found it, his kiss intensified, became more demanding, harder. He pulled her close and she melted into his kiss, wanting more. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him to her. In an instant, the inside door banged shut and James maneuvered them to the couch. “I’ve missed you.” Tears formed in her eyes as she read the pain in his. She stroked his face. “I’ve missed you, too.”

Pulling him into another kiss, she surrendered herself to the only man she’d ever loved. James was her soul mate whether or not she was his. Right now, she didn’t care. She ached for him. If they did this fast, she wouldn’t have to think. Not until after this turned into goodbye. Ripping his shirt open, she pushed him up to slide it off, one arm at a time. When she grabbed the waistband of his jeans he stopped her.

“Where’s your dad?” He wanted this as much as she did; the husk in his voice gave him away. Running her hands up his arms, she answered, “At his girlfriend’s.” “He’s gone?” The look James gave her put them both back in high school with a difference. They were adults. “He packed some clothes tonight and told me to start planning a wedding.” Lizzie sat

back. “You’re not the only one getting a new mother.” It was the wrong thing to say; she could see that even in the dark. James’s face fell. He stretched out beside her. “You always knew how to cool a mood.” “Sorry. It was out before I could stop it.” She bent toward him. “You wrapping your head around it?” “Which it are you talking about? That I have a five-year-old son that everyone knew about but

me? Or that my prodigal mother has reappeared and is buying a house with my brother?” “Either one.” Lizzie drew circleeights on the leg of his jeans. “Both. Before we start anything I might regret, I need to know why you came here tonight.” “Yeah.” James blew out the breath it felt like he’d been holding forever. “About that.” With a sense of dread, Lizzie curled her feet under her in a lotus position and faced James. Waiting.

“I want you. I want you and JR and me to be a family. But I’ve got things to deal with first, contracts to finish up, and then there’s Jesse.” Lizzie looked at him. Same tune, same chorus. “You can’t leave Jesse,” she said flatly. “No, it’s not that.” Frustrated, James swung his feet to the floor and leaned over his knees. “I can leave Jesse and I will. Managers like me are a dime a dozen. He probably can get someone who’s a better than I am at a fraction of the

cost. But there are deals in the works someone else can’t finish for me and I can’t drop.” “So what do you want from me, James? What kind of investment do you want from JR?” Lizzie knew her voice was getting louder, but didn’t care. She didn’t like the way this conversation was going. If things went the way they so often seemed to with James’s plans, JR would graduate high school before James had time to spend with him. “Nobody’s getting younger here,

James, especially not JR. He grows in front of my eyes and I can’t see it until he needs new shoes. You’ve missed five years on misunderstandings and mistakes. What do you want now?” “You’re not being fair — ” “I don’t have to be fair, James. I’m a mother. Fair is for someone who doesn’t have to think about her child.” Shocked, James stared at her. “So you want me to quit my job to stay here and do what?” James shot

back. “Be your live-in handyman? You’ve had five years to get used to being a parent.” “You think you get used to being a parent, James? You don’t. Do you know how scared and alone I felt when I took that pregnancy test? Or when they did the first ultrasound and couldn’t find JR’s heartbeat? Or the time he got so sick and dehydrated they had to air flight him to Boise to a real hospital?” Her jaw worked. “Time doesn’t prepare you for any of it,

James. It’s learn as you go all the way.” “I didn’t mean it that way. I know you’ve been here. But, Liz, I didn’t have the chance to be here. To help.” As if on cue, JR called from the bottom of the stairs. “Why are you fighting?” “Honey, what are you doing up?” Lizzie turned quickly toward her son. “I heard you fighting. Why are you fighting?”

Hearing the tears in his voice, Lizzie reached him first and pulled him into her arms. “We’re not fighting.” She wiped his face with her tee shirt. “We’re talking.” “You sounded mad. Like when I broke the lamp.” JR yawned, his hand flying up to cover his mouth. “Your mom wasn’t mad. Well, maybe a little at me. But adults talk loud sometimes. I’m sorry we woke you.” James knelt beside Lizzie and JR.

JR seemed to consider what James said and then piped up with a new subject. “Gramma Angie’s coming for breakfast tomorrow. Do you want to stay?” “I don’t think I’m invited.” James’s voice was cold. “I invited you silly.” JR put his hand on James’s arm. “Please.” “I’ve got to finish up some stuff in the morning. You have fun. We’ll talk more later.” James knew he sounded curt, but he couldn’t reconcile Angie with

the life he wanted with JR. Fortunately the little boy didn’t seem to notice. His mother did. “Right now, you have to get back to bed or you won’t be awake in time for breakfast.” Lizzie pulled JR up into her arms. To James, “I’ll be right back.” James nodded. “I’ll wait.” “Good night, Daddy.” JR waved at James. Daddy. Lizzie’s breath caught in her throat. JR was in deep already. James leaving again so

soon would break his heart and she might never be able to fix it. ••• The condom in James’s pocket crackled when he sat down to wait for Lizzie. He blinked. He’d found Jesse’s stash in the truck’s glove box and grabbed one, hoping. Now he wasn’t so sure. Kissing Lizzie had surprised him. The power of one kiss after years apart. He couldn’t believe the emotion it brought back. Him, Lizzie, and the

white picket fence. He’d carried that dream from the first. Now the issues between them seemed insurmountable and he didn’t have the answers he needed to get what he wanted, give Lizzie what she and JR needed: a home. With him. He heard her footsteps on the stairs. Make up your mind, James, he urged himself. Which version of family could he best honor without going mad? The one where he scurried around after his little brother for the rest of his life? Or

the one where he made a life here, with Lizzie and his son? And why couldn’t he figure out how to balance both. He went to meet her. “He asleep?” “Out for the count. He’s always been a great sleeper.” She tried to step around him. James put his arms around her waist and stepped up to meet her. His hands slipped under the faded cotton tee and found the softness of her back.

Lizzie pushed away from him. “No, James. I can’t. Not like this, with everything unsettled.” “Lizzie,” James whispered. Something inside her melted. Her fingers itched, the parts of her that had always ever belonged to him alone burned. “I need you,” James said. She shut her eyes and felt damned. “I was headed to bed.” “All the better.” James swung her into his arms. He kissed her soft and slow. “Ready for this?” He

waited for her answer before taking the next step up the stairs. “This doesn’t mean anything.” Lizzie leaned into him, placing her hand on his chest, drinking in his smell. Sweat, salt, and a hint of Stetson. Memories clawed to the surface, overwhelming. “It’s just sex.” “It’s not.” He stopped and waited for her to look at him. “It’s never just sex with us, Liz, we make love. Remember?”

Too well. She’d pushed him away the first time he’d asked because of the terms he’d used. She wanted love and romance; he’d wanted release. But even then physical intimacy had meant more to him than he could admit. He could barely admit what it meant to him now, but he’d be damned if he’d let her call what happened between them just sex. Slowly, she’d lifted her head and searched his eyes. An electric current ran through him. Already

he couldn’t tell where his body ended and hers began. “I remember,” she whispered — regretfully James thought. Then she leaned back into his chest, her hand softly rubbing his neck, and he thought maybe he’d imagined it. Quickly, before she could change her mind, James took the rest of the stairs to Lizzie’s bedroom two at a time and kicked the door shut behind them. He was home.

CHAPTER NINE Sunlight streamed through the lace curtains, warming Lizzie’s face. Another part of her warmed as she remembered making love to James the night before. He’d been soft and demanding all at once. She grinned. JR should sleep another hour if her clock was right. She rolled over to wake James in order to take advantage of the few private

minutes they had left, but the other side of her bed was empty. Lizzie touched the spot where she was sure James had slept at least a few hours last night. It was cold. “Typical.” She pulled the covers closer up, reminding herself that she’d gone into this with her eyes open. “Hit and run James.” Her mom’s warning to her when she’d wanted to find James and tell him about JR echoed in her brain. “That boy will never be more

than a tagalong, Elizabeth. He’ll break your heart, mind my words.” Instantly tears threatened and she sat up straight. Damn it, mom, get out of my head! For all Lizzie knew, James could be downstairs or in the bathroom. Maybe she was overreacting to him thoughtfully letting her sleep a few more minutes. Besides, what had really happened last night? Did a few hours together make them a couple again? Or was it just sex, like she’d said?

“Just sex. Great idea, Liz.” She threw off the covers and slipped on her favorite at home sweats and a tee. Spring mountain mornings were chilly. She ran her fingers through her pixie cut and remembered slipping them through James’s hair last night. She loved his hair long. He’d only gotten away with growing it out during their last summer together. Liz didn’t know if his dad had even noticed he had any sons by then, let alone the length of James’s hair.

Her stomach lurched as she faced the door. What if James was downstairs? What would she say to him? Her face paled when the other side of the coin slapped her into reality. What if he wasn’t downstairs? Lizzie didn’t know which outcome scared her more. She pushed herself out the door. Time to face the music, one way or another. She’d go down stairs, start the coffee — “Mom!” JR’s arms surrounded her legs. “You’re awake. We were

trying to be quiet so you could sleep. But I had to get my rock collection.” “It’s okay, buddy. I needed to get up anyway.” She finger combed his hair into some sort of order. James’s hair. “Good. Now we can get breakfast. I’m starving.” JR headed downstairs. He carried a shoebox decorated with pictures of mountains cut out of old magazines. His rock collection.

She called after him, “Who’s downstairs?” “Gramma Angie. She was here when I woke up.” Disappointed, Lizzie leaned against the wall. Damn you, James. But of course if Angie was here, he was gone because he couldn’t deal. Why-oh-why had she let him in again? Why couldn’t she just … . Let him go? She closed her eyes and let heartache roll over her. What did you expect, a diamond ring? Fairytales are for

kids and you were the one who said it was just sex. Grow up and get on with your life. Sometimes Lizzie hated her little voice. Especially when it made sense. She heard a footstep and opened her eyes. Angie stood there, a cup of coffee in one hand and a piece of paper in the other. “I found this on the dining room table when JR let me in. I thought you might want to read it up here alone.”

Lizzie took the offered cup then reached for the note, taking it between two careful fingers as though the paper might disintegrate if she held it too tightly. “Thanks.” “I take it you were expecting him to be here?” Angie half sat on the banister. “I don’t know what I expected.” Lizzie sighed. “No, that’s not true. This is what I knew would happen. He’d get scared and take off. He’s always taking off.”

Angie shrugged. “I guess I have a lot to do with that. I ran instead of fighting for him and Jesse. I should have fought.” “He missed you. A lot.” Lizzie remembered years ago, sitting on a downed tree by the river, talking with James about his parents. Those conversations had helped her appreciate her over-protective parents more. “James never let me out of his sight as a kid.” Angie puffed up her hair with her hands. “Jesse could

care less where anyone was except for James. That boy loved his big brother from the day we brought him home from the hospital. I knew James would take care of Jesse.” But who took care of James? “Gramma Angie, the waffles are burning.” JR stood at the bottom of the staircase looking up. “What are you talking about?” “Just girl talk, sweetie. I’ll be right down.” Angie nodded at the letter. “Take your time, JR and I will be fine downstairs.”

“Thanks, Angie.” “What are grandmas for?” Angie grinned. “I never thought I’d say those words. Life sure throws some curves.” Lizzie watched the woman glide down the stairs in her stilettos before she looked at the note in her hand. A single look at the unmade bed in her room coupled with the memories of last night made her sink onto the wooden bench on the loft landing.

She took a sip of the hot coffee then unfolded the note. Five one hundred dollar bills fell into her lap. Lizzie gasped. What the … Was this the going rate for servicing Mr. Sullivan? She glanced at the note, not sure if she wanted to read it. On the other hand, the cad owed her an explanation. She opened the note. Liz — I hate to write this and leave, but Jesse and I have a sponsor contract meeting in Boise before we head to South Dakota. I know you and I need to figure out

where we are going but right now, I have commitments. I can’t break them. I’ll be back Monday for at least a day or two, depending on the next rodeo. Maybe slowing this down a little will give us both some clarity on what is best for all of us, especially JR. Much love, James Tears filled Lizzie’s eyes. At least this time he’d told her what he was doing instead of leaving

without a goodbye. The result was the same though: she was stuck with a nebulous promise and a memory she didn’t want. And that didn’t even count what this could do to JR. She folded the note and dropped it into the trashcan next to the landing. So be it. If this was the way he wanted to play it, she could figure out how to let him be JR’s father without being part of their daily lives.

Resolve didn’t stop her from feeling dumped and alone. Damn it, you’re the one who said sex-sex-sex, sweetie. Listen next time and leave cowboys alone. Stepping into the bathroom, she found a tissue and blew her nose. This pity party wouldn’t do at all. She tried to smile for the mirror, but it appeared as fake as it felt. She tried again. This time, even though the smile didn’t reach her eyes, it seemed passable. Picking up her coffee, she headed downstairs to JR

and his new grandmother — who knew all about disappearing and disappointing the people who loved her. Lizzie would have to set some ground rules before Angie spent more time with JR. Her son would not be played with. And he would not wind up like his father, unable to love or commit. Geared for battle, Lizzie nevertheless stopped in the kitchen doorway at the sight of her son and Angie together at the table. He ate pancakes with more syrup than

cake, a wide smile on his face. The smile on Angie’s face matched JR’s as she watched him eat. The scene reminded Lizzie of an unpainted Rockwell, one she’d title The Showgirl and the Kid. Rules, you have to set rules, she reminded herself. “Good morning, kiddo.” Lizzie breezed into the kitchen. “Angie, do you mind stepping outside with me? I want to show you something.”

“I can show her … .” JR’s words came out muddled since his mouth was filled with pancake. “No, JR, Angie and Mommy need a few minutes. You finish your breakfast then go wash your face and get dressed.” Lizzie stood at the back door, her hand on the knob. “Coming?” Angie set her coffee cup on the counter. “Sure, darling.” She ruffled JR’s hair. “Your mom and me will be right back.”

She met Lizzie’s gaze as she walked out by, but didn’t say anything until they had reached the first cabin. “What’s up?” “I want to know your intentions toward my son.” Lizzie folded her arms across her chest. “Now, Liz, just because my son acted like a jerk and left you that note, doesn’t mean I’m here for the giggles.” Angie tried to touch Lizzie’s shoulder, but the younger woman shrugged away.

“This has nothing to do with James. I want to know you’re going to be here for JR. Not pop in, make him love you, then take off for God knows where.” Angie sat down on the post railing at the side of the cabin. “I guess I deserve that. I wasn’t a mother to my boys. There’s not a day goes by I don’t regret leaving.” Lizzie watched the woman in front of her, her head down and in her hands. Her heart broke. “James missed you.”

“I know he did. That’s why he hates me so much now. I can’t change that. What I can do is be here for you and JR. I want to be part of your family. I know it’s asking a lot. But I’ll prove myself if you give me a chance.” Angie raised her head; tears mixed with black mascara ran down her cheeks. “I’ll be there for him. For both of you. I promise.” Lizzie sighed and sat next to Angie. “I don’t want to hurt you, but

I don’t know if I can trust you. Especially with JR.” “All I can ask for is one day at a time. I’ve learned from my meetings. All we have is today. Worrying about tomorrow just brings trouble.” She snuck a sideways look at Lizzie. Lizzie couldn’t decide if Angie’s face was full hope, pleading or if she was trying to gauge whether or not her bullshit had stuck. Give her a chance, her gut

said. But her gut had been known to be unreliable. Lizzie faced Angie. “You can stay. But one slip, one broken promise, and you’re gone.” Angie brightened. She pulled a tissue from her pants pocket and wiped away the tears. “I’ll be the best grandmother JR’s ever known. You’ll see.” Lizzie shook her head. Her mom had been JR’s grandmother. Angie could never replace her, but maybe there was room for a

different grandma or two. Martha’s face popped into her mind. With her dad remarrying, JR would go from having no grandmothers to having two in less than a week. ••• “So, you want to talk?” Jesse turned off the radio. “About what? This contract stuff? We’ve been over it. You’d be a fool not to sign.” James kept his eyes on the road. One phone call had pushed up their meeting with

the Utah based country and western clothing king to this afternoon. He wanted an excuse to get out of Shawnee fast. Running from whatever it was last night reminded him he felt for Lizzie. He reached to turn the radio back on; Jesse’s hand blocking the knob. “What are you doing?” “I didn’t mean about the contract. Hell, all we talk about is business.” Jesse shook his head. “What about Mom, Lizzie and JR? How are you feeling about all this?”

“Overwhelmed? Lost? Confused? How do you think I’m feeling?” James gripped the steering wheel tighter, focusing on the two-lane highway’s tight curves. “I assumed you were ticked at me for not telling you.” Jesse glanced quickly at his brother; their eyes met, parted. “I’m mad as hell,” James said harshly. “Mad at you and Lizzie and her parents and Mom — or Angie, whatever I’m supposed to call her now.” James focused on the road.

“It doesn’t change anything. I still have a son no one told me about. You still have a championship to win. And I’ve got a summer to plan without lead time.” Jesse was quiet a moment. Then, “I can get another manager you know. Barb and I talked this weekend. She knows some great people looking for work. I’ll buy you out and hire someone cheaper.” Jesse sat up when James said nothing. “I’m serious. You can leave. JR needs his dad.”

“He hasn’t so far,” James grumped. Damn it, he’d wanted to be the one to tell Jesse it was time for him to find another manager. Being dismissed so casually after all this time wasn’t the same as James making the change for himself. It was just one more choice Jesse made for him. As though he was being allowed to do something he wanted to do, but thought would be a lot more difficult. It wasn’t easy to find out that the person your life had revolved

around for the better part of twenty years didn’t need you anymore. And never mind that James had a son waiting in the wings who needed him more. Opposite world, that’s what this was. Jesse behaving like the big brother while James felt like a kid. “I like working for you. Why would you think I’d want to leave?” “Because you never wanted to come in the first place.” Jesse’s insight took James back. He slanted a glance at his brother who had the grace to look sheepish. “Look, I

know I played the brotherly love card when we first left home. And believe me, I wouldn’t have made it this far without you, I know. But I’ve grown up. I got this. You need to be with JR.” He gave it a beat. “And Lizzie.” Great, he becomes a man, right after I’ve run away and ruined every shot I had with Liz. “Who are you and what have you done with my brother?” James forced a grin and leaned over the steering wheel. “Seriously, I’m

happy where I am. Lizzie’s got a plan, we’re an hour out of Boise and we have to go over the contract one more time. Can we be done with the girly feelings talk and do this?” “I thought you said I’d be a fool not to sign.” “I did, but they’ve added a sobriety clause.” James nodded to his briefcase on the backseat of the quad cab. “The terms are reasonable. Just grab the contract and read the entire thing.”

“They better not have said I can’t drink at all. Just because they’re religious — ” James tuned him out, knowing that whatever they said about Jesse getting another manager, it was negotiations like this when another manager would never be able to talk Jesse into doing the right thing. JR’s face popped into James’s mind. What about me? the imaginary child asked. When are you going to be with me?

You have your mom. And I’ll be there, at least financially. Lizzie might not even let him help there unless he forced the issue. Not after running out on the promises he’d made to his son. He glanced at Jesse. Just like their mother had run out on them.

CHAPTER TEN A knock on the door jolted Lizzie from replaying the weekend with James again while JR and Angie watched cartoons in the living room. She opened the door. “Express delivery, Lizzie. I don’t think I’ve ever had an express for anyone on my route.” Lizzie grinned at her mail carrier. He’d been on the same route since she was a little girl,

seeing her through her Highlights stage as well as when she couldn’t wait for her Teen Beat to show up. “Well, maybe it’s from the sweepstakes people.” “Wouldn’t that be a treat?” He handed her a form to sign. “Just write your address there, and sign in the three spots I’ve marked.” Lizzie signed and took the thin envelope and read the Boise return address. George Baxter, Attorney at Law. She froze. Why would an attorney send her a letter?

“Thanks.” She slipped out the front door and sat in the rocking chair on the porch. Laying the magazines and envelopes down, she stared at the bright express envelope. You might as well open it. Shaking, she slipped her fingers through the seal and shook the contents onto her lap. Three thin sheets of paper. It didn’t look like legal papers to her. She peeked into the envelope. Nothing else.

Pulling the letterhead closer, she read the two paragraphs. In order to facilitate my client’s paternity rights, we are requesting you and the child in question comply with testing. The address and phone number of the testing site is enclosed. In addition, Mr. Sullivan has requested I forward the enclosed check to you for your personal needs until this matter is settled. Please direct questions to me at the above number.

Stunned, Lizzie read the note again. James wanted a paternity test. He didn’t believe her. Fingers shaking, she slipped the other page aside and there was the check. Five thousand dollars. More money than she’d ever seen in her life. And James expected her to what? Just take it? He threw cash on the dresser when he left her bedroom and then did this? She’d expected a little more from him. She imagined the conversation with her welfare worker.

JR’s father turned up out of the blue and decided to provide for us. Please close our case. Just like that, no more feeling like she lived off her dad and the productive members of the community. Instead, she’d be a kept woman. “I wondered if he’d do the right thing.” Angie’s voice surprised her and Lizzie glanced at the woman standing behind her. Now part of her son’s life and Lizzie guessed part of her own.

“I can’t accept this,” she said without thinking. “He owes you more than that in child support,” Angie said ferociously. “You can accept this and you will.” She sat down on the rail in front of Lizzie. “Doesn’t JR deserve the love and attention of both parents? The financial security James can provide?” “That’s cold, coming from you,” Lizzie shot back. “I deserve that.” Angie leaned over and grabbed Lizzie’s hands.

“But you know I’m right.” And Lizzie did. But accepting money from James still felt wrong. Especially since he might as well have left this money on the bedside table, too. “Gratitude isn’t one of my strengths.” “Then think of it as payback.” Angie squeezed her hands and let go. “He owes you. Probably more than I can imagine. But at least this is a start.” “I could use it to get the cabins ready,” Lizzie admitted. She’d get

the cabin rental business up and going to support her and JR. Then any money James sent could be put into a college fund. JR deserved that. “That’s my girl. Sounds like we have a shopping trip to plan.” Angie grinned. “I’ll drive.” Lizzie grinned. At least someone would enjoy spending the money. She hesitated briefly, then gave JR’s grandmother a short awkward hug. When she pulled away, Angie’s eyes glistened with

tears. “Angie? It’s nice to have you here.” Angie’s voice caught, “Darling, that means more than you know.” She rose and patted Lizzie’s shoulder. “You go make up a list and I’ll freshen up.” Then she hurried into the cabin, letting the screen door slam behind her. “JR, get some clothes on. We’re going shopping.” Alone, Lizzie thought about the check. Leave it to James to do the right thing awkwardly. Because if

sending her a check for her “personal needs” was the right thing for him to do, how come it made her feel more hollowed out than his request for a paternity test? Sex with benefits, she told herself, wanting to cry. That’s all they’d ever be. ••• Packing in the last bag from Angie’s rental Jeep filled Lizzie’s small home to overflowing and made the living room seem more like a

storage shed or a very large linen closet. Angie had organized the day like a professional. She’d talked Martha and Dad into watching JR until tomorrow. He’d be dropped off about two, which gave Lizzie time to distribute the flyers she and Angie had designed in minutes at the printers, their first stop when they arrived in Boise. The printing had been ready for them to pick up on their way out of town.

Angie’d also talked her into doing cute little bookmarks to stuff in the paperbacks they’d bought at yard sale to stock the cabins and the main lobby. Bookmarks that would encourage visitors to take the books with them and pass along the bookmarks advertising Hudson’s Hot Springs. “I can’t believe we got this all done in what? Twelve hours? And that’s with four hours drive time.” Lizzie sank onto the couch and leaned her head back. She hadn’t

been this bone weary for years. It felt good. “We’re not done yet, girl.” Angie pulled off her two-inch stacked heels and rubbed her feet. “My dogs are barking tonight. I probably should have thought about ignoring the fashion gods and wearing some sensible shoes. Like those.” She pointed at Lizzie’s feet. “Thanks, but I only own two pair of shoes, well, three.” Lizzie pulled up her legs and popped her worn tennies on the coffee table. A

habit JR had started to pick up as well, even though she yelled each time she saw him with his feet on the table. What was it Mom said? Monkey see, monkey do. She grinned, thinking about her copycat son. “Three pair of shoes? Girl, you’re deprived. How do you accessorize with only three pair of shoes?” Angie gave her a horrified stare.

“Easy. Tennis shoes with jeans and shorts. Boots with jeans when it’s raining or snowing. And finally flip flops in the summer with everything else.” Lizzie watched the dismay grow on Angie’s face. “If I’d known your clothing situation was this bad, we would have stayed in town overnight and got you a decent wardrobe. How are you going to run a successful business in jeans and flip flops?” Angie’s tone made the words flip

flops seem almost X-rated and not in a good way. “My clothes are fine.” Lizzie didn’t want to argue, she wanted a beer or a glass of wine. “What are your plans? Are you in a hurry to get back?” “To my empty hotel room? Not really.” Angie glanced out the open screen door to watch the sun set over the mountain. “I’d like to stay and help you get the cabins set up if you don’t mind.”

“You don’t have to work,” Lizzie said quickly. “I’ve had a bottle of white zin in the refrigerator for six months that I never felt like opening.” Lizzie kicked her shoes off and slipped her feet back on the table. “I think we have some sharp cheddar and crackers to go with the wine.” “No wine for me, thanks.” Angie shook her head. “I’m off alcohol now. But tea or lemonade sounds like heaven.” She sighed. “I have to admit, I hoped to spend a

little time with the boys on this trip. I got a full day with Jesse, but James … .” Another head shake. “What happened wasn’t even close to want I wanted.” So she meant what she said about her meetings. Good. “James is complicated. I don’t know if I’m the best one to advise you there. I sure don’t understand what goes on in his head.” Lizzie groaned. “Look at me, I’m a mess because of that stupid son of yours. I was doing fine not knowing where

he was or who he was with. Now? I want to kill him.” Angie smiled. “Sounds like he’s under your skin.” “Not again. I won’t go through this again.” Lizzie shook herself like a wet dog, throwing all trace of James’s hands, kisses, and body off her skin and out of her mind. “So, I ask again? Ready to celebrate the soon to be grand reopening of the cabins?” “Stay where you are. I’ve poured my fair share of wine and I

can pull together iced tea and a snack tray.” Angie jumped up and headed to the kitchen. “This is like a teenage slumber party.” A slumber party with a decorate-for-under-a-dime theme. At least Angie was happy. She seemed to thrive under stress. Lizzie had to block every thought of James and his impromptu stop last night followed by his under cover of moonlight escape and his pay-forsex way of thinking he could take care of her and JR. When she was

in bed tonight, she’d let tears come, but for one night only. Tomorrow she’d be back to business. Part of that business was making sure JR had time to spend with his dad. Time that didn’t include her. Cabinet doors slammed in the kitchen. At least James talked to JR. He’d ignored Angie from the time she’d arrived in town until his quick departure. Lizzie knew JR’s new grandmother must be crushed — much as she was herself. Angie wasn’t that bad. Of course she

hadn’t left Lizzie to fend with a little brother and a useless father either. James had good reasons to be cautious in freely showing his affection. Despite their earlier talk, Lizzie wondered if maybe she should protect JR from her vanishing, too. The same way she should have protected him from James leaving. She thought about making a list of questions to ask Angie when she came back, but before she could open her eyes, she heard a noise.

“Here we go.” Angie set a tray of wine, ice tea, and snacks on the coffee table then poured a glass of wine and passed it to Lizzie. She pushed the glass closer when Lizzie hesitated. “This is the right bottle, right? I didn’t see another bottle chilling.” “It’s the only bottle.” Lizzie shook her head, thoughts of grilling Angie leaving for the night. She took the offered glass and smiled. “Shall we find a movie to watch?”

“Perfect. As long as it’s not a robot cartoon or action flick. My late husband loved war movies. I could care less if I ever saw another reenactment of World War II in my life.” Angie sat in the recliner. “Romantic chick flick it is then.” Lizzie scanned the piles of DVDs on the bookshelf, found what she was looking for, and slipped the DVD into the machine. The evening passed with very little conversation and a lot of wine. Lizzie hadn’t felt this relaxed for years.

Then the phone rang. Not recognizing the number, she answered in full business mode. “Hudson’s Hot Springs, this is Lizzie. May I help you?” “Hey, Liz.” James’s husky voice filled her ear and made her toes curl. Mad, stay mad. “James. What do you want?” Lizzie shot a glance at Angie. “Sorry about this morning, I had a meeting with Jesse’s sponsor in Boise. I had to leave.”

The explanation sounded plausible. But Lizzie knew James. She stood up and headed to the kitchen. “You couldn’t wake me? You left me a note?” She turned on the faucet and started rinsing the few dishes in the sink. “I don’t want to fight.” “You never do.” Lizzie turned off the water. “What do you want James?” “Did you get the check?”

“I did.” Lizzie expected he wanted her to say thank you. She just didn’t have it in her. The line was quiet. Finally, James said, “I’m seeing my attorney tomorrow.” Fear gripped heart. “I’m scheduling the paternity tests next week. I only got the letter today, for god’s sake.” “I want to get this arrangement formalized. JR deserves that, don’t you think?”

Lizzie’s emotions ran from fear to anger. “If that’s the way you want it.” Neither spoke for what seemed like hours. Then James said, “I’ll be back in town next week. I’d like to see JR if that’s all right.” “That will be fine. I’ve got someone here, I need to go.” Lizzie had to get off the phone before she asked what his plans were for her. “You can’t even let the bed grow cold?” His words stung.

“It’s none of your business what I do with whom.” Old patterns, old words. Lizzie felt transported back to their senior year when they’d broken up over Jesse and she’d let a football player take her to a dance. “Sorry, this time, you’re wrong. What you do in front of my son is definitely my business. If you’re going to act like a tramp, I’m going for full custody. JR doesn’t need this.”

“Neither do I, James.” Fury got the better of her. “I don’t need you dropping money on my table like I’m the tramp you want to believe I am, and neither JR nor I need you making threats like a child throwing a tantrum to get his way. Convincing a judge you can care for a five-year-old while you’re running from rodeo to rodeo will be a little tricky.” Her breath caught. James had the financial means to make this a battle and she’d spent the money he’d sent her on getting the

cabins up and running. A bet that better pay off or she’d lose everything this time. “Then I’ll hire a nanny for Jesse and take care of my son.” His voice was ice cold, petulant — and lost. Damn it, James. If you were here, I could reason with you. Take care of you. Make things all right. “You can’t take JR from me. He’s all I have,” she whispered. “Tell Cash hi.”

Then like the teenage boy he couldn’t seem to stop being, James hung up before she could tell him it wasn’t Cash in her living room with her, but his mother.

CHAPTER ELEVEN The following morning James sat in his attorney’s office knowing he’d behaved badly with Lizzie the night before, but ready to follow through regardless. Now that he knew about JR, James would never let any other man but him parent his son. “So what’s going on? My assistant’s notes are a little vague

and your voice mail was surprising.” George leaned back in his chair and watched James select a muffin from the tray his assistant had left. “I need you to draw up custody papers. And do a background check.” James popped half of the muffin into his mouth. “Sorry.” George patted his mouth with a napkin. “So you think this woman is scamming you? If that’s the case, why did you have me send a check?”

“Not Lizzie.” James pulled out the scrap of paper on which he’d listed everything he remembered about Angie. “I want a background check on my mother. Make sure she’s not just after Jesse’s money or something. Find out if she’s … .” He hesitated because now that he was about to say it, it sounded like he was as paranoid as he felt. “I need to find out if she’s reliable,” he finished lamely. George put down his coffee. “Let me get this straight. You have a

kid, and your long lost mother shows up out of the blue? Must have been some weekend.” “You don’t know the half of it.” James pushed the scrap of paper toward the other man. “Lizzie told me she’s been on welfare. I might have some problems with the state. Can you check that out for me as well?” James took a second muffin. George glanced at the paperwork in front of him. “Elizabeth Hudson. Lizzie.” George grinned. “You have a son. Should I

say congratulations? I might have a cigar around here somewhere.” “JR’s five. I think the time for cigars has passed.” James imagined what it would have been like to witness JR’s birth. To watch him grow from a baby to the kid he’d met at the sheep pen. Lizzie might have kept him away then, but by God she wasn’t going to now. Even if she and Cash were planning a perfect little family of their own. Lizzie and Cash? No way did that track. She must be desperate. His

resolved tightened. “How hard would it be to get full custody?” “The courts often side with the mother in these cases, especially after all this time. If it can be worked out, joint custody is preferable. I’ve started the paternity process. The testing center is expecting you. It’s a walk-in process, you can go anytime. Making visitation arrangements is usually easier when the parents set up the custody plans themselves.” George paused. “Why full custody?

Aren’t you on good terms with the mother?” James shook his head, thinking about last night’s call. He’d screwed up any chance of this being an easy process by going off high-handed and half-cocked. “Would I be here if I was?” George pulled out a notepad. “Okay then, here’s the plan.” For the next hour, George explained the ins and outs of the child support system and what needed to be done to legally declare

James as JR’s father. By the time they were done, James felt more concerned about getting visitation rights than ever. “Just make it right.” James finished the last of his coffee and glanced at his watch. “I’ve got to run. Jesse’s riding in South Dakota this weekend and we need to get cracking.” “All this would be moot if you married the woman. Two-parent families are all the rage.”

James shook his head. “I think she’s already closed applications for the job.” “Well, if you don’t think you two can make it, then protecting your legal rights is critical. I want to warn you, it can get messy.” George sounded like an ambulance chaser from late night television. “Marry the girl if she’ll take you. It will make this process simpler and you won’t owe me so much money.” “I’m the last man she’d want to marry.” James went out the door,

hoping George didn’t hear the catch in his throat. ••• Two more stops and she’d be done marketing for the day. Lizzie had dropped letters and flyers off at the post office for the local travel agencies. A packet went to the local motel and condo rental for overflow guests. Now all she had to do was stop at The Pancake House and the grocery store. So dump Cash or buy groceries

first? Lizzie groaned and pulled into the restaurant’s parking lot. It was barely a third full — a sure sign the midday customer traffic was slow. Good time to get Cash alone. Bad news, she’d be alone with Cash. But this had to be done. He was a good man and she couldn’t keep stringing him along when she wasn’t in love with him. Making love to James had made one fact clear: her heart belonged to James. Even with all his insecurities, impulsive

overreactions, and the fact he’d turn tail and run. Again. He was JR’s father and she loved him. Until she didn’t, she had to quit pretending there might ever be someone else. Especially Cash. She checked her makeup in the rearview mirror, ran her fingers through her hair and straightened the jacket she’d thrown over her blouse and jeans. Trying to look professional. Like the business owner she soon would be, if she’d understood her father correctly

when she called to talk to JR today after she and Angie finished decorating the first two cabins. Ready to beard dragons, but not Cash, she sat in the driver’s seat of her ancient import, eying the restaurant. Maybe I should go get groceries. Chicken, her other side called out. And pushed Lizzie out of the car. She took a packet she’d carefully made up for each of the

small town business owners and grabbed her purse. Now or never. She found Cash sitting in one of the booths, going over paperwork. She stood by the edge of the booth. “Lizzie.” Cash stood and kissed her on the cheek. “You’re a welcome sight. What brings you into town? You’re not trying to skip out on our date Friday are you?” Lizzie slipped into the booth across from Cash and laid the packet on the table. “As a matter of

fact … .” She smiled wryly, letting the statement hang. “Ah, hell.” Cash leaned back into the booth and dropped his pen on the table. “Let me guess, you and James are running off together to live happily ever after.” Lizzie winced. “Not quite. This isn’t about James. It’s about me.” “Sure. It’s coincidence you’re breaking up with me right after he comes back town.” Cash shook his head.

Lizzie thought about denying the fact she was breaking up with him. But that would have been unfair to him and her. She jumped in with both feet. “Cash, I like you more than I can possibly tell you. You’ve been good to me and to JR. But having James in town last weekend taught me that no matter how much longer you and I date I’m not going to fall in love with you.” Lizzie regretted the pain on Cash’s face, but she couldn’t go back now.

“And you are with him.” “No. Yes. Maybe. I don’t know.” Her lips twisted. “All of those. We have a son together and I know I need to close the door on whatever else there is between us before I move on.” She played with her folder. This wasn’t what she’d planned to tell him. Her wellpracticed speech had escaped her mind and she was blowing it. She didn’t want to lose his friendship. “He doesn’t love you. If he did, he’d be here. Hell, he would have

been here all along.” Cash’s words stung. “Think about JR. Don’t you want his father to be stable? To be here with him? With you?” She couldn’t meet his eyes. How many times had she had the same conversation with herself? Trying to convince herself that emotions like love would come in time. That Cash could be her future and if she left James in the past. Your past that was back in your bed as soon as he hit town.

Thinking he saw a chink in her armor, Cash grabbed her hands. “I love you, you know. I love JR.” “I’m sorry.” Lizzie picked up her purse and folder and stood. “I’ll see you around.” “I won’t let you come back. If you walk out now, it’s over.” Cash’s voice was firm but quiet. “I know.” Throat tight, Lizzie walked out of the restaurant. She’d never wanted to start this with Cash, should never have said yes to that

first date. But in her heart, she knew her tears weren’t for the relationship she was closing. She cried for the man she left. A man she couldn’t love. He deserved more. Starting the car, she wiped the tears off her cheeks. One more stop. One more packet to give out and groceries to buy. Then she could head home and soak in a long hot bath before Dad dropped off JR. Tonight she would hug her son and head to bed early. Right after she

finished the long list of chores required of a single mom. The life she’d chosen over any possible life with Cash.

CHAPTER TWELVE The Sullivan ranch property sat thirty minutes out of town, but at least the roads were dry. James loved driving up the curvy road that hugged the mountain. Boise was as big city as Idaho got, yet ten minutes out and the mountain life took over. James watched as an SUV filled with kids turned off the

main road heading to Lucky Peak, a local swimming spot. The park’s beach would be filled to the brim this weekend. Today, a few lounge chairs dotted the sand. Maybe he’d bring JR down to stay with him for a while and they could spend a day swimming. If Lizzie will even let you talk to him after you cut out on him the last time. James focused on the road ahead and sighed. He’d totally screwed the pooch on this one.

Lying there in bed, watching her sleep, he’d realized how much he loved her. When that feeling sank in, he panicked. What was he doing? What if she betrayed him and left him the way Angie did? He didn’t have room in his life for any woman. And he’d never be able to be a good dad. What did he know about raising a kid? He’d been right to leave. Focus on what he did well, that was the ticket. He could provide financially for Lizzie and JR. Make sure they

had food in the house and JR had clothes. That was his role. Someone else would step in to take JR swimming and teach him to throw a ball. And James knew who Lizzie would choose to help. Cash. “Even if I wanted to be part of JR’s life, she’s already moved on.” James spoke the words out loud, making his thoughts real. So she jumps in bed with you for old time’s sake? James shook off his logical side. He couldn’t take the chance of

her leaving — or turning him down. Things were better this way. He was good at his job. He could tell George to back off the custody thing. He didn’t need a family. He had Jesse. And Angie. As he pulled into the dirt driveway leading up to his ranch home, he saw a car in the driveway. As if thoughts of her had brought her into being, Angie stepped out of the car and waved at him. You could turn around and leave.

No, he wasn’t going to turn tail and run. This conversation was long overdue. Years overdue. Time to confront his mother over her abandonment of him and Jesse. If she’d come to the ranch for closure then by God, he was going to give it to her. He parked the truck. Watching her approach, he eased himself out of the cab and slammed the door. “Why are you here?” Angie straightened her back. She’d been reaching for a hug, but

seemed to catch herself. “We need to talk.” “We needed to talk years ago. Now what’s left to say?” James leaned against the truck and waited. “I can’t change the past, James. I can only change our future.” Angie gestured toward the house. “Can we at least sit down on the porch if you don’t want to ask me in?” James flipped his key ring around his finger. “We can go in. I do have manners.”

Angie followed him onto the porch and waited while he unlocked the door. “Is Jesse here?” “He stayed in town last night. Celebrating his new sponsor. I’m picking him up in an hour.” James unlocked the door and threw the keys on the antique desk in the foyer. The oversized cabin was filled with comfortable couches and big screen televisions. The perfect bachelor’s pad at three thousand square feet. He nodded toward the kitchen. “How about some coffee?”

Angie nodded and followed. “This is nice. It’s homey.” James didn’t know what that meant or even what she was looking for. “You can’t move in, Angie.” Her eyes widened. “James, I would never ask to move in. You think I’m here for money?” James busied himself with making coffee. “I don’t know why you’re here, but money seems a likely choice.”

“Honey, I have more money than I know what to do with. My late husband left me more than comfortable. So, no, I’m not here for a hand out.” Angie pulled a bar stool close to the granite covered island and scooted up, her five-foottwo frame having to climb to sit down. James finished putting the coffee to brew and opened the refrigerator. His cleaning lady had stocked the kitchen on her last visit and he quickly found a bag of bagels

and cream cheese. He was hungry. He usually cooked a big breakfast on his days at home: eggs, sausage, biscuits and gravy. Today he’d needed the drive before he could eat. “You hungry?” “I ate at The Pancake House before I left Shawnee.” Angie let the words settle. “Cash must be happy.” Angrily James sliced the bagel that somehow looked like Cash. “Because I ate there? I’d say that’s a stretch. Of course, he acted

like everything was fine. Like Lizzie hadn’t broken his heart.” Angie stood up, went around the island, and started opening the cupboards. “Where do you keep the coffee cups?” The knife slipped through the bagel and thudded into the chopping block. “What do you mean?” “Coffee cups? You know, what you drink coffee out of?” Angie opened another cabinet. “Never mind, here they are.” She pulled out

two cups and poured herself coffee from the half made pot. “No, I mean about Lizzie dumping Cash. That can’t be right. He was there Tuesday night.” James stared at Angie. “Cash wasn’t with Lizzie then. We had a girl’s night movie marathon. I stayed over. That’s when she told me she was breaking up with Cash. Said it wasn’t fair to lead him on.” Angie had settled back on the stool and was watching

James. “I hear you had a sleepover with her the night before.” “Not that it’s any of your business.” James popped the bagel into the toaster and ignored Angie’s gaze boring into his back. He waited to see if she would say anything more. When she didn’t, he asked, “What did she say?” “She didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to. I read your note.” James spun around. “You had no right.”

“Whoa, cowboy.” Angie sipped her coffee. “Be glad I found it and not JR. He can read some, you know.” “I didn’t think about that.” James sagged against the counter. “I didn’t mean to hurt her. I, well, I panicked.” “Welcome to the club.” Angie waved away James’s protests. “I’m not saying you’re like me. Sometimes people just do stupid things. I did something stupid when

I left you boys. Jesse’s forgiven me, why can’t you?” “This conversation isn’t about you.” James grabbed the hot bagel out of the toaster and swiped it with cream cheese, his hunger gone. “Okay, we won’t go there right now. Lizzie was hurt. And mad. And surprised by the money.” Angie took a sip of her coffee. “A nice touch by the way.” “I owe her that much, probably more.” James poured himself a cup of coffee and sat across from the

woman who claimed to be his mother. Angie didn’t look like the idealized version of the mother he remembered from his childhood. That woman had a radiant smile and soft cheeks. James loved to cuddle while she read to him. Stories of Aladdin and the Magic Lamp and Gulliver’s Travels. James had always thought she read the action adventure books for him, but now he wondered if her wanderlust had shown in her reading choices.

“Still, after what you pulled, it took balls to send her money and not expect her to tear up the check.” James hadn’t thought of that. “She didn’t, did she?” “No honey, she cashed that puppy and we went shopping.” Angie smiled. “That girl has quite a knack for the bargain. We got everything she needed to open up the cabins and she still has money left over.” “Lizzie always was practical.” James took a bite of the bagel.

Somehow, it didn’t taste as good as he’d remembered from last week. How could his world have changed so much in less than a week? “She’s got a good head on her shoulders for business. She told me she planned on being a journalist before JR came around.” Angie slipped off the stool and poured herself another cup of coffee. “I think she would have been happier in public relations.” “I wish she’d told me. About JR, I mean. We could have worked

something out.” James pushed the bagel aside. “From what I learned last night, her mom gave Lizzie an option. Finding you or living with them. I guess the woman didn’t think much of your taking off with Jesse.” James could feel Angie watching for his reaction. “I was only going to be gone one summer. Lizzie knew that. She didn’t trust me. It was all in or nothing with her.” James hesitated. “And Jesse

needed me more than she did. Lizzie’s like a cat. She always lands feet first. But Jesse, he only had me.” “Sounds like Lizzie had a reason not to trust you, so wrapped up in your importance to your brother that you became his parent and forgot about living your own life. Forgot about her.” Angie’s voice was quiet. “I have a life.” Defensively James pointed at the house. “I have a home, a job, and friends. And I

never forgot about Lizzie, I … .” His jaw worked. “I knew she was better off.” “You have a house, not a home. Your job’s taking care of your brother. And I haven’t seen you around anyone besides Jesse since I’ve been hanging out at the rodeos watching you. Where are your friends?” “I saw one this morning. George.” James panicked. He searched his memory for the last time he’d done anything with

someone besides Jesse. And even though he wasn’t here a lot, the ranch was home, wasn’t it? “Isn’t he your lawyer?” Angie deadpanned the question. “What, I can’t be friends with people I work with?” James stood up and dumped the uneaten bagel in the trashcan. He set the plate in the sink and refilled his coffee cup. “Sure you can. But do you have any ‘friends’ you don’t pay to talk to you?” Angie patted the countertop. “Sit back down. I know I’m treading

on thin ice here, but someone needs to talk so you’ll listen. I wasn’t here before, but I am now.” “And you want to walk in and become my mother again?” James snorted. “Maybe not Mom, but I want to be part of your life. Yours and Jesse’s. And I want to help correct the problems I’ve caused.” Angie watched James slowly sit down across from her. “Lizzie loves you. You behaved like a jackass and she’d still take you back the minute

you set foot in her yard. You need to commit to that girl and your son. Jesse can take care of himself. He’s not a child. JR is.” “I blew that.” James thought about his tantrums over the weekend. Hot, then cold. How could anyone trust him when he let his emotions rule his intentions? Running out on Lizzie the first time had been a matter of pride. She’d asked him not to go, to choose her, and he’d blown her off thinking she’d still be around when he got

back in the fall. Problem was, the brothers never did go home. And James had never taken the time to try to make it right. “That girl is in love with you and has been for years from what I’ve seen and heard. Why do you think she broke up with Cash? She told me she needed to sew up her broken heart before she gave it away again.” Angie shook her head. “You think she’d leave you the way I left you boys and your father? She

hasn’t quit on JR yet, and it’s been tough, believe me.” “No. I mean, maybe.” James’s shoulders sagged. He met Angie’s eyes. “People leave.” Angie sighed. “James, I can’t make the past different. I wasn’t in love with your father. I never was. We got married too soon. He knew I didn’t love him, but he said he loved me enough for the both of us. He was wrong.” “He fell apart after you left.” James thought about the shell of a

man his dad had become right before they had left home. “Grams tried to help but he refused to let her visit after she tore into him about his drinking. Then it got worse.” “Oh, James, I’m sorry.” Tears filled Angie’s eyes. “I didn’t know.” “He didn’t beat us. And there was always food in the house. But he made us feel like Jesse and I lived alone.” James tapped his fingers on his coffee cup. “Jesse got the worst of it. He’d do anything to

get the old man’s attention. Finally, he stopped trying. After I graduated, I stayed for Jesse’s senior year, then we left.” “And never looked back?” “Not until last weekend. How’d you convince Jesse to go home?” James considered the woman sitting in front of him. His mother in tight sweat pants with a rhinestone encrusted shirt. He had wondered why Jesse had been adamant about riding at Shawnee.

Now he knew the answer sat in front of him. “Jesse told me about JR.” Angie paused. When no response came from James, she continued. “We decided it was time you knew.” “So the whole thing was a set up by a mother I’d written off for dead to let me know I have a son?” James stood and poured his cold coffee down the sink. He opened the refrigerator and pulled out a soda instead. “Were you trying to kill me?”

“I’ll admit, it wasn’t the best plan. Neither Jesse or I had any idea it would be this rough for you.” Angie glanced at James. “We didn’t think how you would react, or that you’d take it out so hard on Lizzie. I’m sorry about that. The girl doesn’t deserve it.” “What’s done is done.” James waved off her apology. “No, it isn’t. You need to make it right with that girl. Whatever you fought about six years ago isn’t worth losing her and JR again.”

Angie tapped her pink fake nails against her coffee cup. “She doesn’t want me.” “James Ray Sullivan. I didn’t raise a quitter.” “Angie, you didn’t raise me.” For the first time James sent the feisty woman before him a genuine grin. “That’s beside the point.” Not quite smiling back, Angie sipped her coffee. “What did the two of you fight about anyway? Lizzie wouldn’t tell me.”

“Jesse, what else.” “Why Jesse?” “Lizzie and I planned on attending college together. She’d already put off going for a year while we worked and saved up the money. But mostly we stayed in town until Jesse graduated. Her folks were hot because they wanted her to go to college right after we graduated.” “So you took care of Jesse first.” Angie shook her head. “Things the way they were, that

seems reasonable. And it sounds like you were both in agreement, what happened?” “When Jesse graduated he got a call to ride bulls for the summer for a local rancher. The guy would pay him and another guy a salary and pay the rodeo entry fees. If Jesse won, he got to keep the purse.” James remembered Jesse’s face when he got the call. He’d won the lottery. “So I told Lizzie I’d be back in the fall to move to Portland with her.”

“Putting your brother before the girl you were sleeping with and making promises to.” Angie nodded. “And you didn’t come back and you didn’t call.” James squirmed, not liking how that sounded. If he’d called, would she have told him she was pregnant? Why had he she should have been the first one to make that move? Oh, right. Stubbornness. “I tried, but Jesse was good, even then. The rodeos stacked up. Before I knew it, September had come and

gone.” James leaned against the cabinet, his knee bent and his cowboy boot up against the walnut cupboard doors. “And so had Lizzie.” “She loves you.” Angie stood up and swung her pink fur purse over her shoulder. “But is that enough?” James watched his mother. “For my sake, I hope so. I want to keep seeing my grandson.” Angie gave him a quick hug.

James held himself stiff as a board inside her embrace. The move surprised him and yet a part of him wanted to melt. Just a part. He’d wait until George finished running the background check before he’d let her in. He had to. “Well, I’ve got to get packing and go pick up Jesse,” James said awkwardly. “I’m leaving. Think about what I said. Make a commitment, and not only to JR. Commit to that girl before she gives up on you. Six

years is a long time to wait.” Angie waggled her fingers in what appeared to be a wave. “See you soon.” Marry the girl. James followed Angie outside and watched her drive away. He wanted to marry Lizzie. He wanted to make a commitment. But there were so many other things he had to do. Places he had to be. Meetings to take. Contracts to court. A custody battle to cancel … .

Swallowing hard, he turned and locked the door. If he stopped trying to take JR away from Lizzie and started to try to work with her, maybe … . Maybe Angie was right. Maybe if he went back to the beginning and picked up the plan where he and Lizzie had left it six years ago … . It was the longest shot of his life, but he had to try. He found the number in his cell. Pushing buttons, he walked to

the truck as he waited. “Hey, I need a favor. A few, actually.” ••• Lizzie had just finished sliding a pan of apple cinnamon muffins into the oven when she heard a knock on the front door. Glancing at the clock she realized it was too soon for the mail. At least it wouldn’t be another certified letter explaining the check had been a mistake and James wanted the money back. Not that she had much of it left after the

shopping trip with Angie yesterday. Today she needed to finish getting the cabins ready for the first call for rental. A call she hoped would come sooner than later. Throwing the dish towel over her shoulder, she went to answer the door. JR beat her to it. “I’ll get it.” Lizzie followed, surprised to see Martha when JR swung the door open. He slipped outside and hugged the tall, gray haired woman.

“Gramma Martha! Did you come to get me for the day?” A pang of pain crossed Lizzie’s mind; this was not the first time she’d missed her mother lately. JR had lots of grandmothers now, but she didn’t have one mom. She pushed away bittersweet sentiment and smiled at her soon to be stepmother. “JR, let the woman breathe. Martha, come on in. I’ve got fresh coffee and muffins in the oven.”

“Mmmm, I can smell them baking. Something with cinnamon?” Martha put her hand on JR’s head and followed him into the cabin. “Apple cinnamon. I’m trying out some recipes in hopes we get some cabin rentals soon.” Lizzie led the way into the kitchen. “JR, why don’t you get your blocks and build something to show Martha while she and I talk in the kitchen?” A frown crossed JR’s face. “Do you like boats? I’m making a boat.”

“I love boats.” Martha patted him on the head and mouthed ‘thank you’ at Lizzie. When Lizzie had poured them both coffee and offered Martha cream and sugar, which she declined, the two women faced each other across the table. “You’re probably wondering why I’m here,” Martha started. Lizzie smiled. “You’re marrying my father, Martha, I expect to see you a lot.”

Martha’s body sagged in relief. Whatever she’d thought Lizzie’s reaction was going to be, apparently accepting hadn’t been one of the choices. “I want you to know your father and I have been very respectful of your mother’s memory. I mean until the wedding we aren’t sharing a bed. He’s staying in my guest room for now.” Martha sipped her coffee. Lizzie choked on hers. “You don’t have to explain. Really.” The

thought of her dad and Martha doing it had never crossed her mind. Now she couldn’t get the image out. Changing the subject as quickly as she could, she said, “I’m happy you’re joining our family. When are you tying the knot?” “We want to go to Vegas next month. I’ve already arranged for someone to take care of the fish.” Martha was passionate about her fish. She’d been running a tilapia farm on her property for years. Lizzie’s dad had been talking about

the advantages of fish farming for the last year. I should have seen this coming then. “Get me a date and I’ll figure out a way to be there. Maybe JR, too.” Lizzie smiled at her. Pleasantly plump, even Martha’s body type was totally different from her mom’s rail thin body. Also, Martha wore her hair long, usually pulled back into a ponytail, with wisps of gray showing through the natural brown. Her mother had never

missed a salon appointment, religiously scheduling them six weeks apart to keep her blonde hair from showing signs of the passing years. Martha and her mother were polar opposites and yet, Lizzie knew, Martha was the type of person her dad needed. “Your dad and I will pay for the flight and the room. All you’ll need is a dress and gambling money.” Martha grinned. “We’ll even babysit when you want to go down to the

casino floor. Maybe you’ll get lucky?” Luck. She needed luck. But not the type Martha talked about. Lizzie pulled out her planning calendar and the two women marked off the days for the wedding. As they discussed dress options, Lizzie’s phone rang. Excitement growing, she listened to the caller then she turned her planner open again. “Let me check what’s available. You want all five cabins for this weekend and next?” Lizzie marked

off availability for the cabins as she grinned at Martha. “That will work. Can I get the number in your party so I can plan breakfasts?” She frowned as she listened. “You don’t want any food or supplies? You realize I can’t change the rental rate even though you’re not requesting meals?” Again she focused on the caller, shrugging when Martha giving her a thumbs up to celebrate her first new rental. After she’d finished getting a credit card to reserve the

reservation and explained her cancellation policy, she hung up the phone and grinned at Martha. “I’ve got bookings for two weeks that, without my having to provide food, should pay for the upgrades I made to the cabins and leave JR and I enough in the bank to live without help for a month or two.” She tapped her pen on the calendar. “I guess I am getting lucky after all.” Martha’s face lit up. “I’m happy for you. Your dad has been worried

about leaving you before things took off.” “Tell him he can quit worrying.” Martha stood and rinsed her cup. “I’ve got to go. We’re planning on setting up a second farm.” Lizzie bit her tongue. The farm her father had talked about. And she’d worried about him drinking too much or getting senile. Maybe she was the one who’d been distracted the last many months, not him.

When Martha drove off after ten hugs from JR, Lizzie went back the kitchen table and wrote down a list of tasks to complete before the arrival of her first guests. Then setting that list aside, she pulled out a new notebook. On each of the first three pages she wrote Goal Number One, then Two then Three in big block letters. This was a planning tool she’d read about in one of her women’s magazines. Set three goals, and do something toward each goal every day for one hundred

days. Then evaluate the results and set three more. But what were her first three goals? Lizzie thought for a minute then wrote. Goal Number One: become financially self-sufficient. She’d taken the classes in finance and life planning when they were offered in the small town’s community center. She was luckier than most. She had resources. She had the cabins. They were booked already for two weeks and she hadn’t even updated the website.

The next goal was harder because it was emotional. But she might as well deal with it now than later. Goal Number Two: learn how to co-parent with James without wanting to rip off his head or his clothes. If she could manage this one, he’d get this silly idea about taking custody of JR away from her out of his head. He couldn’t even deal with a week of JR by himself. Panic seeped into her bones. Calm down. Just handle what you can today.

She glanced at the letter from the lawyer and picked up the phone. She made arrangements with the clinic to take JR in for the requested DNA testing tomorrow. That way Friday all she’d have to do was worry about her customers. She left the strategy part of her “co-parenting with James” goal page blank. She’d have to come back to fill it out when she had a clue about how to make this goal a reality.

The third goal was easy. All she had to do was open the urn where she’d hidden her dreams so long ago. Goal Number Three: make plans and apply to go back to school in the fall. She listed five strategies for making that happen. Apply for financial aid. Ask Martha and Dad to watch JR while she had class. What with JR going to school full days, she’d have her weekdays free for online classes, study, and keeping the cabins up for renters. She opened her laptop, found the

desired website, and requested the necessary material be mailed to her. Glancing at the clock, she realized it was almost lunchtime. One more page in her notebook and she’d be set for the day. On the fourth page, she wrote Day One. Below the title, she listed all the things she’d already done toward her goals and the things she wanted to do tomorrow. One hundred days. By the time she started a new notebook, she and JR could both be in school, JR

would have a relationship with his dad, and she’d be renting out cabins to hunters who wanted a place to relax and drink a few beers after a long day in the woods. These goals were reachable. She could do this. All she needed was hard work, and a little luck. With a smile, she put a pot of water on for JR’s favorite macaroni and cheese and started chopping vegetables for a salad. It felt good to be moving forward after five years of standing still.

It felt good to take the direction of her life into her own hands. No judge would be able to look at her and deny her custody. She’d create a future for herself that didn’t rely on James or any man.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN “When’s Daddy coming home?” JR asked. Twenty minutes into the two-hour ride to the clinic and he’d gotten bored. Things hadn’t changed now that their destination was close at hand. “I’m not sure, honey.” Lizzie glanced at him in the rear view mirror. “We haven’t worked out all

the details. Your dad has a busy job. I’m sure he’ll try to come visit as soon as he can.” “But what if he comes and we’re gone?” JR’s lips quivered. “Why do we have to go to town today?” “He’s not coming today. Your Uncle Jesse has a rodeo in South Dakota this weekend. We talked about this.” Lizzie sighed. JR didn’t understand why James had left without saying goodbye. And Lizzie couldn’t explain what she wasn’t

sure she understood herself. How do you tell a kid his dad was afraid of commitment? They had been better off without James knowing. All last weekend did was reopen old hurts for all three of them. “I want to see my daddy.” JR looked out the window again. He was done talking. Not for the first time Lizzie realized how much JR resembled his father. The way he set his mouth when he was mad. His way of ending conversations. Lizzie

focused on the road, a small grin on her face. His father’s son. The clinic appeared and she pulled in and parked. Inside, the lab tech was ready for them. “I don’t want a shot,” JR declared when he’d been boosted onto the examination table. He folded his arms in front of his chest and kicked his feet. “You’re not getting a shot. It’s kind of like when the dentist counted your teeth. Remember that?” Lizzie rubbed his back.

“You said we were getting ice cream.” He frowned at her with an accusing glance. “We’ll get ice cream next. All they are going to do is put a stick in your mouth and then it’s done.” Lizzie sat down behind JR. “And I’ll go first.” “You’re getting tested, too?” JR leaned against her. Lizzie felt him relaxing now that the threat of a shot was over. “Yep. I get the test, and then I’m getting a double-decker chocolate

and vanilla cone. What do you want?” JR thought a moment. “I think strawberry. But they might have a new flavor. Will you read me all the flavors?” Lizzie smiled. Getting ice cream was never a quick process with JR. Lizzie wanted vanilla or chocolate. JR wanted to know all his choices before he made a decision. He’d listen to the list, then ask her to repeat three or four of

the flavors then he chose something else entirely. “Of course.” Lizzie thought maybe she should say something about why they were getting tested. Before she could think of a way to say his dad wanted proof JR was his son without causing pain, the technician came into the room. Lizzie prayed the guy would keep his mouth shut. She didn’t have to worry. The technician checked her driver’s

license to verify her name against the testing order. “And what’s your name?” The question seemed conversational, but Lizzie knew it too was part of the verification process. “JR. JR Hudson.” JR sat up straight, bracing himself for the test. “And can you tell me how old you are, JR?” “Five. Almost six.” The tech grinned. “You look six.” He patted JR on the leg then

went to the cabinet to get the testing kit. “Who’s first?” In less than five minutes, they were done and in the car, heading to the strip mall down the road and the closest ice cream shop. Their testing samples would be matched up with James’s and sent off to a lab. Proof they were a family — or at the very least that JR was related to both of them. Proof that only James seemed to need. •••

Pulling into the drive later in the evening, Lizzie felt energized. She and JR had walked around the Boise campus and taken a tour of the library. Even though she’d attend class online, it had felt good to see what she would be part of. Now with a catalog of available programs and a schedule for fall classes stuffed in her oversized purse, Lizzie was anxious to sit down and start planning. “Do you have to read all those books?” JR’s question surprised

her; she’d thought he’d been asleep. “In the library? No, honey. I’ll have to read a few though. It depends on the classes I take.” Lizzie walked around and opened his car door. “Let’s have tomato soup for dinner.” “Okay.” JR stopped in his tracks as a thought occurred to him. “You’ll still have time to read to me though, right?” Lizzie leaned down and gave JR a big hug. “Of course we’ll read together. There are a lot of stories

still out there. You’ll have homework though, too. We can study together. The two amigos.” “Maybe when Daddy comes we can be the three musketeers and have sword fights.” JR took off for the porch. “Hey, there’s a package.” Lizzie frowned. She wasn’t expecting anything. She unlocked the door and picked up the box. It felt light. Walking into the kitchen, she grabbed a can of soup. Mixing the contents with milk, she set the pan on the stove to heat. She got

out two bowls and the last of the bread she’d baked last week. Tomorrow would be busy. Between putting the last touches on the cabins for the rentals and welcoming her guests, she’d have to figure out where to fit in baking and laundry. She grabbed a knife and slit open the box. She gasped. A dress packed in tissue paper lay inside. Holding it gently with both hands, she pulled it out of the box. White, with satin and lace, a handkerchief

hem and a sweetheart neckline. Not an everyday sundress. She glanced into the empty box. No note. No card. The mailing label showed the package had been shipped from Cooper’s Country Store. Lizzie searched her memory trying to figure out why the store name was familiar. Was that the sponsor James had introduced her to on Saturday? Barb had to have sent the dress. She’d been appalled when

Lizzie said she didn’t have a dress in her closet. Now she’d have two, Barb’s loaner sundress and this one for church. The dress was beautiful. She glanced at the clock then dialed Barb’s number, but only got voice mail. “Call me,” she told the machine. She wouldn’t leave an impersonal thank you message on a machine. She hung the dress up in the laundry room and put the box away. Talking to Barb would be a

welcome addition to tomorrow’s to do list. Right now, however, it was dinnertime, followed by bath and bed for JR. She glanced out the kitchen window where the power washed cabins gleamed in the moonlight. James had saved her weeks of work. Her thoughts went back to the weekend and the ease with which they’d worked together. Having him home, no matter how briefly, had made things feel like he’d never

left. Now he planned on taking JR away from her? Hell would freeze over first. She shook her head. No use looking back. Her life was ahead of her. Not tied up in the past with James. “JR, dinner.” She poured the soup into the two bowls, setting them on the table. Real life. Not the fantasy family life she’d let herself imagine last weekend. And real life wasn’t that bad. After JR was tucked in bed, she’d start imagining

her future through the pages of the university catalogue. Images of James clouded her mind. Getting up to make one more cup of tea, she sighed. James had left again. And there was no way she would be his stopover when he made it back into town. Commitment. That’s what she needed. Cash wanted to commit to you. Filling up the teakettle, she realized she needed one other thing besides commitment: love. A life

with Cash would have been fine, but she wanted more than fine. She turned on the stove and went back to scanning the books. Lizzie Hudson would never settle again.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN Friday morning, Lizzie checked the list she’d made the previous night when she’d been unable to sleep. The windows in the each of the cabins were open, letting in the sweet mountain air. She had walked through each one, spot-checking to make sure the hot water from the natural springs flowed freely into

the Jacuzzi tubs, the resort’s trademark. Years ago, they’d had bathtubs out on the deck where the guests could lounge in the mineral water and watch the river flow by the mountain. Then her mother had insisted on upgrading the cabins, moving the bathtubs off the decks, moving the hot springs experience into the remodeled bath. A room that included a skylight placed over the tub allowed the soaker to watch the moon and stars. It was nice, but

Lizzie had always preferred the bathtubs on the deck overlooking the river. Maybe she could bring them back. Eventually. In the kitchen, blueberry muffins baked in the oven and she’d already finished two loaves of wheat bread to go with their dinners this week. Laundry was started. She slipped into a chair, taking a few minutes to study the college course catalogue again. She’d decided an accounting degree

would be more practical than the journalism degree she’d wanted years ago. Besides, she was already writing copy for her Hudson’s Hot Springs website, the flyers and brochures that she planned to put in the main lobby. That would bring the world to her instead of her having to go out to it and she’d discovered she relished the idea. School was finally happening. It would be tough, but she’d planned out her curriculum and within three years — if she could fit

in summer school during peak rental season — she’d have her degree. Once she’d passed the tests, she could be a CPA out of her house. She wouldn’t have to move JR away from the only home he’d ever known. Away from his grandpa and, now that Angie was buying a local ranch, two grandmothers. A knock came at the front door. JR watched cartoons and made clay figures. A decision Lizzie already regretted. But cabin guests would have to deal with the fact that the

innkeeper had a five-year-old son who could turn a clean room into a disaster in less time than it took for her to whip up a batch of cookies. She heard JR’s cry, “Gramma Angie.” Eyeing what remained of her list, she went to greet James’s mother. Angie knew guests were arriving today. She’d be quick about her visit. Lizzie smiled down at her flour-covered clothes. Another item on her to add to her to do list:

change clothes before the guests arrived. When Lizzie walked into the living room where Angie and JR had their heads together, whispering. JR held a bag in his hand. “Angie, please tell me you didn’t buy him another toy. Seriously, you don’t have to bring a gift every time you come. Your visit is a gift.” Angie stood up and smiled, ruffling JR’s hair. “Just a little something I found in the shop. An

outfit I couldn’t resist.” She pushed JR toward the stairs. “Honey, go upstairs and put that on while I talk to you mom for a minute.” “Okay.” JR dodged around Lizzie and ran up the stairs. “You don’t want to show me?” Lizzie called after him. “Not yet Mom.” The answer echoed down the stairs and then his door slammed. “Well, I guess that answers your question. How are you doing?”

Angie put her arm around Lizzie and walked her toward the kitchen. The lilac of Angie’s perfume swept over Lizzie, sweet and comforting at the same time. For all the pain it had caused while it happened, rodeo weekend had certainly caused wrought some wonderful changes — like bringing this wonderful woman into their lives. “I’m swamped. All the cabins are rented for the weekend. The good thing is they declined the

breakfast option. I guess I’ll get to ease into my new role as an innkeeper.” Lizzie slipped into one of the wooden chairs, stacking the pamphlets from the university into a pile. “Can I get you coffee or tea? I’ve got a jug of sun tea in the fridge.” “That sounds divine. I wouldn’t stress too much about your guests. I’m sure they’ll be able to entertain themselves most of the time.” Angie perched on a chair and nodded

toward the laundry room. “Pretty dress.” “Pretty odd dress.” Lizzie poured the tea she’d had setting out in the sun all morning over two glasses filled with ice. The ice would melt quickly since the jar still felt warm. She sat the glass in front of Angie and moved the sugar bowl filled with cubes closer. “I’m sweet enough, hun,” Angie said, waving the sugar away. “Don’t you like the dress?”

Lizzie glanced at it. She’d called Barb again that morning, this time leaving a short thank you when her friend’s phone went unanswered. She didn’t have time to play around today. “I love the dress. I’d like to know why Barb thought I needed it. Church service up here is casual most weekends.” Lizzie watched Angie start digging in her purse, avoiding eye contact. “Wait. Angie? Did you send me the dress?”

Angie pulled out a tube of lipstick and mirror from her purse. She clicked open the mirror and freshened the color on her lips, even though it seemed bright enough to Lizzie. When she was done, she tucked the items back into her purse and finally answered Lizzie. “No, I didn’t buy you the dress. I swear.” Angie lifted her right hand into a symbol. “Scouts honor.” Lizzie laughed. “Were you ever a scout?”

“Of course. Well, a Brownie at least. Until the other mothers complained I put too much makeup on their little darlings.” Angie leaned closer. “Between you and me, those girls needed a little sprucing up. The brown dress wasn’t fashion in anyone’s eyes.” Lizzie laughed. Angie had been a pistol as a kid, too. Keeping her and JR in line when they were together would be a trial. She glanced at the stairs, JR still hadn’t come down from his room. Lizzie

stood to go see what kind of trouble her son was getting into when she heard voices in the living room. Confused since she wasn’t expecting her guests to arrive before late afternoon, she called, “I’ll be right there.” “We’re coming back,” her dad’s voice boomed. Then Lizzie saw a bouquet of flowers carried through the doorway, followed by her Dad and Martha. He set the vase on the kitchen table. “Happy … day.”

“You brought me flowers?” Lizzie stared into the arrangement of roses, daisies, and lilies. “You don’t like the flowers?” Martha sent horrified glance back and forth from Lizzie to Bob Hudson. “I thought you said these were her favorites?” Lizzie hugged Martha. Her new stepmother seemed a flustered. “They’re perfect. Thank you. You surprised me, that’s all.” She patted Martha’s back. “A very nice surprise.”

Bob grabbed two glasses and filled them with ice. “See, she likes them. I know my girl.” He poured tea over the ice and sat down. “Do you have another tea jar brewing?” “I hadn’t planned on having company today. I have guests coming this evening. I was getting the cabins ready.” Lizzie hoped the not so subtle hint would get her visitors to leave. She went to the cabinet and pulled out a second gallon jar. Setting it in the sink, she ran water into the jar while she

unwrapped the tea bags. When the water reached the top, her father jumped up. “I’ll take it out.” He grabbed the jar and slipped out the screen door. “What a beautiful dress.” Martha stood in the laundry room looking at the mystery dress. “Lizzie and I were talking about the dress when you came in.” Angie went over to stand next to Martha. “She doesn’t know where it came from.”

“Not a clue?” A look passed between Martha and Angie. Then they both smiled at Lizzie. “What?” Lizzie could swear they were hiding a secret. As impossible as that was since they’d only met once when Lizzie and Angie dropped off JR to go shopping last week. “The cabins look great. You need to keep people off the new sod until the roots set.” Her father came through the screen door.

Lizzie turned toward her dad. “That’s why I have those sections roped off, Dad.” “I didn’t mean anything, jeez.” He glanced across the room. “Pretty dress.” “So everyone keeps saying.” Lizzie sipped her iced tea, watching the circus of family surrounding her. Was this what it was going to be like from now on? Surprise visits from the parents, bearing gifts that didn’t make sense?

JR burst into the room. “Grampa. Gramma Martha. Gramma Angie. You’re all here.” He went from one to the next gathering hugs like candy. Lizzie’s heart swelled watching her son. For him, she could deal with crazy relatives dropping in at all hours. Life would go on, but JR would remember one thing from moments like these: he had people in his life who loved him. She got her hug last. Pulling him onto her lap, she realized he

was dressed in a mini tuxedo. “What the heck?” She smoothed the fabric and looked at Angie. “You bought him a tuxedo?” “Isn’t he cute?” Angie pulled out a camera and started snapping pictures. “Yes, he’s adorable. But Angie, he’ll grow out of this in a few months. You can’t buy dress clothes for him, he has nowhere to wear this.” JR hugged her. “Yes I do Mom. I can wear it today.”

“Why on earth would you want to wear it today?” Lizzie leaned her head down to touch her son’s soft brown locks. “I guess I should answer that,” a new voice said. Lizzie’s jaw dropped. James stood in front of her in a tuxedo that matched the JR’s. “I thought you were in South Dakota?” “I made other plans.” James grinned, his blue eyes sparkling. “What about Jesse?” Lizzie’s head spun. It had to be the scent of

the flowers getting too her. “What about me?” Jesse poked his head around the corner and dragged Barb into the crowded kitchen. “Okay, I give up. What’s going on?” “I think that’s my line, Lizzie,” James said huskily. “Because I haven’t known what’s going on since I left you. So I’m here to give up. I’m done fighting this feeling. I know where I belong.”

“Finally,” Jesse whispered loudly to Barb who giggled. Bewildered, Lizzie looked around at them. James was there to give up — what, she wasn’t sure — after having no contact with her since demanding the paternity tests and telling her he wanted custody of JR. Jesse was there when he was supposed to be riding bulls in South Dakota. And Barb… God alone knew what Barb, Martha, her dad, and Angie were doing.

“Guys, I don’t have time for this. The cabin guests will be showing up any time.” “We are your cabin guests.” Barb bounced up and down. “Surprise!” James didn’t even look at her. “Quiet in the peanut gallery.” He lifted JR off Lizzie’s lap. Kneeling in front of her, he pulled a small box from his tuxedo pocket. When he opened the box, a marquis cut diamond ring in what looked

like a platinum setting sparkled at Lizzie. She took a quick breath. Tears filled her eyes. “I meant to do this years ago, Lizzie. Then time and stubbornness got away from me, from us. This question has been a long time coming. Lizzie Hudson, will you marry me?” Lizzie’s ears rang. What? After all the stupidity was this really happening? Did she want it to? She

pinched her leg. Pain seeped into her consciousness. “I mean if you don’t want to, I’ll understand … .” James searched her face. “I have to tell you though, I quit my job. You see before you an unemployed man.” “Hold on cowboy, I think we can work out an arrangement,” Barb piped up. “Shhh. Give them some space.” Jesse put his hand over Barb’s mouth. “This is their time.”

The adults in the room chuckled then turned back to watch James and Lizzie. Lizzie realized she hadn’t said anything. James was here. He’d chosen her over Jesse. The thought echoed in her mind. The room was quiet. Everyone waited. James waited. For her. She took the ring out of the box and slipped it onto her hand. It felt right. Glancing at James, she smiled. “Yes.”

She put her arms around him and he lifted her up into his arms and kissed her. Her lips were melding into his and she was where she wanted to be. With the man she’d always wanted. However late he was. She slipped out of his arms and back to the floor, but he kept a hold of her waist. James grinned at JR. “She said yes.” “Of course she did, Daddy. She was just waiting for you.” JR

jumped up and down like a jack in the box. James released her to pick up JR. Lizzie glanced around the room. The dress, the flowers, the unexpected visitors? It all made sense now. “You pulled this all together?” James leaned into her. “Were you surprised?” “Flabbergasted that it took you so long to get it right.” She reached up and kissed him one more time.

Everyone watched them, beaming. They wouldn’t be quiet long. This was their family. All of them together for the first time. She was home. “Time’s a wasting kids. I’ve got to get on the road.” Jesse nudged Barb who flew into action. “What, we’re doing this now?” Lizzie frowned. “Before you change your mind or I do something stupid. Yes, we’re doing this now.” James glanced

around the crowded kitchen. “Besides, everyone’s here now.” Barbara grabbed Lizzie and ushered her and the dress upstairs to her bedroom. “You jump into the shower and I’ll get everything ready.” Lizzie hugged her friend. “He finally asked.” Barb laughed. “He did more than ask, he set this whole thing up. The preacher will be arriving with the county clerk in thirty minutes —

we need to get you ready. You don’t want to miss your plane.” “Plane?” Lizzie stripped off her shorts and tee shirt, turning on the water. “What plane?” “Just hurry.” Twenty minutes later, Lizzie stood in front of her oval mirror. The dress fit like a dream. Barb had curled and teased her hair, adding a tiara and short veil. Lizzie put on her mom’s gold cross necklace. She met Barb’s eyes in the mirror.

“She hated James.” Tears threatened to destroy the mascara Barb had layered on Lizzie’s lashes. “Your mom hated what James did to you. She didn’t hate James.” Barb gently hugged her. Fingering the cross, Lizzie realized Barb was right. Her mom had been doing what she would have done: protecting her baby. Music drifted in the room. “That’s our signal, everything’s ready.”

“This is really happening.” Lizzie took a deep breath. Out on the landing, her dad waited for her. “I get to give you away, I guess.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks Dad, for everything. JR and I couldn’t have made it without you.” “If he hurts you again, I have my shotgun.” Her father settled her arm in the crook of his. “I’ll tell him.”

But as father and daughter walked down the stairs to James and the family, Lizzie knew James would never hurt her again. Because now, she was family. She’d seen it in his eyes when he’d asked her to marry him. Today’s vows would seal the deal, but the bargain had been struck in those few seconds in the kitchen. To have and to hold from this day forward. A family.

EPILOGUE A year later Lizzie sat on the same metal risers on rodeo weekend in Shawnee. The top of the stands not only had the best view for the parade, but she could lean into the metal rack, easing the pressure off her back. These things weren’t made for the comfort of pregnant women. Being seven months along wasn’t going to stop her from watching JR ride in his first parade.

James and JR had been practicing for this day for months. Lizzie thought her body would rather be curled up on the couch watching a sappy movie, but she couldn’t miss this. “Corndog and water for you.” Barb sidled up next to her and Lizzie a still warm mustard covered treat. “I can’t believe you can eat those things.” “I’ve been craving one for weeks, ever since James and JR made plans to ride in the parade.”

Lizzie took a bite of the steaming crunch dog. “Besides, James has me on a strict diet at home so this is heaven.” “You better not get me in trouble. I like being in a partnership with your husband. He’s a freaking genius when it comes to scheduling. We’re working with four new riders this year and have more on a waiting list.” Barb grinned. She patted Lizzie’s stomach. “I can’t believe you’re so big.”

“Twins.” Lizzie ruefully smiled and rubbed her expanding stomach. Barb squealed and hugged her friend. “When did you find out?” “Last week. Now James goes around telling everyone I’m carrying an oversized load.” Lizzie polished off the corndog. “He thinks he’s funny.” “What’s that son of mine done now?” Angie sat down on the other side of Lizzie and handed her a fresh corndog.

“Thanks.” Lizzie took a bite of the second dog, grinning at Barb who shook a finger at her. “He’s been making size comments again.” “You’d think he’d learn.” Angie stood and called to Jesse, “Make sure you get lots of pictures of JR.” Jesse waved to the three women, holding the camera up for Angie to see. “Both those boys are more vinegar than sugar. I don’t know how you put up with them.” Angie patted Lizzie’s belly, leaning down

to ask the growing babies, “You two will be sugar and sweet for your momma, won’t you?” “I hope they sleep.” Lizzie admitted. “Where’s your Dad and Martha?” Angie scanned the crowd growing on the street waiting for the parade. “On a cruise. Can you believe it?” Lizzie smiled thinking about her dad on board a cruise ship. “They wanted to get away in plenty

of time so they’d be back for the big day.” “Here they come.” Angie pointed toward the first set of riders positioned behind the color guard with the flag. Angie and Barb pulled Lizzie up so she could stand while the flag passed by. Then Lizzie saw them. The men who made her life complete. JR looking all grownup on a real horse. He hadn’t wanted a pony. And James, the doting father, watching over his son with a mixture of pride

and love. She caught his glance and saw him say something to JR. Her son turned and searched the stands until he saw her. Then his face lit up. He waved with his free hand. A year ago she’d been trying to keep a secret. Now, Lizzie realized it hadn’t been her secret to keep. The world had shifted, that was true. But she’d never been this happy. And her happiness revolved around the people in her life. A family she’d

never imagined yet now, couldn’t let go. One of the babies inside her kicked her. Lizzie reached down and rubbed the spot on her stomach. Yes, sweetheart. You’re going to be part of this crazy life. Just wait. The future has lots of surprises for us all.

The Bull Rider’s Manager Lynn Cahoon

Avon, Massachusetts

This edition published by Crimson Romance an imprint of F+W Media, Inc. 10151 Carver Road, Suite 200 Blue Ash, Ohio 45242 www.crimsonromance.com Copyright © 2012 by Lynn Cahoon ISBN 10: 1-4405-5727-6 ISBN 13: 978-1-4405-5727-9 eISBN 10: 1-4405-5728-4 eISBN 13: 978-1-4405-5728-6 This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, corporations, institutions, organizations, events, or locales in this novel are either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, used fictitiously. The resemblance of any character to actual persons (living or dead) is entirely coincidental. Cover art © 123rf.com, iStockPhoto.com/grafikeray

To my BFF and writing partner, Laura Bradford. Thanks for pushing me to finish a book, any book. And to my own Bella. I miss you little girl.

Contents Dedication Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15

Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 About the Author

Chapter 1 If flying was hell, waiting to fly was purgatory. Their plane should have taken off an hour ago. And even though they were on hold, Jesse Sullivan still hadn’t graced the airport with his presence. Barb dialed Jesse’s cell again and immediately got his answering message. “Damn, Jesse — where are you?”

“No luck?” Hunter Martin, prodigal son of Martin Dairy Empires — and potential sponsor for her perpetually late client — opened his blue eyes and looked at her. Barb had thought the man had been asleep when she’d pulled out the cell one more time. She pasted on a smile she didn’t feel. “Just his voice mail. Maybe he’s stuck in traffic?” Hunter raised his eyebrows. “In Boise?”

“It happens,” Barb shot back. “He’s been staying at his brother’s spread up near Lucky Peak so maybe a logging truck accident slowed him down.” Hunter shook his head. “Really?” “It could happen. Those trucks fly on those narrow roads.” Barb sighed. “I think you’re stuck with me for the flight. I don’t think Jesse will make it.” “I’m not going to complain.” Hunter’s smile was slow and sexy.

He closed his eyes again. “Shake me if they announce our flight. I didn’t get much sleep last night.” Barb smiled. I bet you didn’t. Hunter Martin was known in Boise social circles as a player. Or at least he had been. All Barb really knew about the thirty-two-year old bachelor was that he liked the Country Star bar — well known for its line dancing classes and generous beer prices — better than the upscale places downtown. She’d seen him at Country Star a few

years ago and man, the boy could swing. In all her years around the rodeo, Barb had never been able to relax enough to let her partner lead her around the dance floor. But she felt the music, even if her dancing would put her on a reality show for the Worst Dancers in America. Rumor had it that Mr. Martin must be involved because he’d been absent from his usual bar stool for months. Barb snuck a glance at his left hand. No ring yet. Although that

didn’t mean anything. He still could be engaged. Barb wished she’d just taken a direct flight to San Francisco. But since she’d had to come up to get another caretaker hired and settled with Mom, she’d jumped at the chance to host a potential new sponsor for the weekend. Martin Dairy had big promotion pockets. Or at least that’s what was rumored. And the company loved to sponsor bull riders. Jesse better not screw this up.

Going into partnership with James, Jesse’s brother, and becoming Jesse’s manager when James had wanted to get off the road to run Hudson’s Spa with Lizzie, his new wife, had seemed like a no brainer. James, Lizzie, and Jesse had been friends since high school in Shawnee. And Barb had managed cowboys for years. She’d taken newcomers from small town rodeos and gotten them into the finals in Las Vegas in no time. But Jesse already had a champion belt

buckle. And acted like it. The man was infuriating, at best. Hunter’s pocket started to vibrate and Barb jumped back, hoping the man hadn’t caught her staring. Hunter pulled out his Blackberry. Bringing the phone in front of his face before opening his eyes, he squinted at the display. Frowning, he stood. “Sorry, I’ve got to take this.” Barb watched the man walk away. Cowboy casual in Wranglers

and a cotton button-down shirt, Hunter could have been her wayward bull rider. His dark hair had just the right curl, making Barb’s finger’s itch to play with it. The man would give any of the rodeo guys a run for their money in the body department, even though Barb knew Hunter spent his days in a high rise in Boise, managing the large dairy operation. Martin Dairy didn’t just own one dairy farm in the valley. Rumor had it that old man Martin wanted to wipe out the

competition and be the only milk producer around. They’d bought out the cheese factory in the next town a few years ago, and now Martin Dairy brand cheese was on supermarket shelves nationwide. Barb sighed. She could imagine the fun Hunter would be if he weren’t a potential sponsor. And if she weren’t Jesse’s manager. She’d just have to put the drool worthy man out of that part of her mind. Just for the weekend. She shook her head. She needed a life outside

the rodeo. A man she could come home to and he’d massage her shoulders. Someone she could tell her dumb stories to who’d laugh and understand. Someone who didn’t mind that she traveled every weekend from late April to December. At twenty-six, she felt like the old maid of the group, especially since Lizzie and James tied the knot. Yeah, like that was going to happen.

Her cell phone buzzed. Without glancing at the display, she answered. “Where are you?” “In my living room, why, was I supposed to be somewhere else?” Her mother’s voice quivered. Barb leaned back in her chair. “No, Mom. I just thought you were someone else. What’s going on?” Her mother’s voice dropped. “There’s someone in the house.” “Cassie. Her name’s Cassie.” Barb watched Hunter pace the walkway, a smile on his lips. Yep,

there was a woman in the man’s life. She wondered what the mystery girlfriend thought of him taking a weekend alone to go to a rodeo? “How do you know her name?” Lorraine Carico hissed into the phone. “She just showed up with bags like she was moving in my house.” “Mom, she is moving in. She’s a trained nurse’s aide and she’ll help you with the house. You’ve been saying you need someone to

help around the house.” Barb sighed. This wasn’t the first time she’d told her mom why Cassie was there. In fact, this wasn’t the first live-in nurse’s aide that Barb had hired to help her mom. But each time, the transition was getting harder and harder. “You hired her?” Lorraine’s voice sounded hesitant, uncertain. “I hired her yesterday. Remember, she came to the house and we talked to her? She barrel raced as a teenager. She went to

high school in McCall.” Barb tried to clue her mother in to the conversation and why Cassie had been such a great match. Why Barb hoped her mother’s stories about how she’d dominated the rodeo queen circuit when she was young wouldn’t bore the young woman to death. “Well, if she barrel raced, I bet she’d like to see my trophy room.” Her mom’s voice sounded stronger. Barb noticed jean clad legs in front of her. She looked up into the

concerned eyes of Hunter. Cocking her head, she covered the phone and asked, “What’s going on?” “They just called our boarding group.” Hunter nodded to the gate where people were lining up. “Mom, I’ve got to go. The plane is boarding.” Barb sighed. She glanced toward the line. Business had to come first, at least today, but she wanted to rent a car and return to her mom’s house. “Plane? Where are you going?” Lorraine’s voice turned into a sob.

“Why are you leaving?” “I have to go to work.” Barb stood up and grabbed her briefcase with her tablet and the tons of contracts she needed to review for her guys. Barb heard a gentle voice asking her mother to let her talk to Barb. Cassie’s cheerful voice came over the phone. “Sorry, I’ll get her calmed down. Have a great flight. Man, I wish I was going to Vegas. I hear it’s a great party.”

Barb smiled. “I don’t seem to have time for the party piece anymore. Thanks, Cassie.” She clicked off the phone and followed Hunter to the gate. Countryside Homes had a room on reserve for her mom. Switching caretakers was getting harder and harder. Her mom was taking longer to acclimate. Maybe Barb had made a mistake in trying to stretch out the money with just one more at home caretaker. Maybe it had been time. Exhaustion racked her body. She

shouldn’t have to be making these decisions, not now. This was supposed to be her time. “Everything okay?” Hunter asked, concern lacing his voice. Barb squared her shoulders. “You know family. And since I’m an only child, there’s no one to share the wealth with … ” For the second time in less than thirty minutes, Barb pasted on her made-fortelevision smile. “No worries. Now, do you want the window or aisle seat?”

Hunter watched her for a few minutes then answered, “Whatever you don’t want. I’m easy.” Barb hoped that was true. If Martin Dairy came on board as Jesse’s sponsor and Jesse pulled it together enough to win the championship again this year, she could afford to put her mom in Countryside. Then maybe Barb wouldn’t worry so much about her. And maybe pigs would fly. She glanced around the boarding aircraft for a pink pig, waiting to

take her flight to Nevada, and giggled. ••• Hunter snuck a peek at the woman sitting next to him on the plane. He couldn’t believe how beautiful she was. Flame red hair, porcelain skin, and a killer body. When she smiled at him, man, his heart melted. Or would have if he had a heart, he reminded himself. Kati owned that piece of real estate — or at least she

did until she went away to college. But that was years away. In an odd way, Barb reminded him of his spit-fire niece. Kati and the older woman looked nothing alike, but both had that twinkle in their eyes. The one that showed up just as he realized he was being played. No, he was glad the bull rider had missed this flight. Very glad. He leaned back in his seat and waited for the plane to take off. Even though he flew regularly now

that he had taken over the marketing division for Martin Dairy, he still hated take offs. And landings. The piece in the middle was just fine, especially when the flight attendant started serving drinks. The way Barb gripped the seat arms, he figured she wouldn’t say no to a beer. Or two. “You might want to relax that grip, slugger, at least until the pilot starts to taxi to the runway.”

He watched her look at him in confusion and when he looked down at her hands, her gaze followed his. She released her hands, stretching out her fingers. “I didn’t even notice. You’d think I’d get use to this. But it never happens. I guess I’m just too type A to allow someone else to fly the plane.” “Don’t tell me the Renaissance woman is a pilot as well.” Barb chuckled. “No, just a control freak.”

“As soon as they get us up, I’ll order a few beers. We’ll have to drink fast though, Las Vegas isn’t that far.” “Believe me, I can chug with the best of them. Occupational hazard when you manage bull riders.” Barb turned away from the window and faced Hunter. “I’m curious. Whatever made you decide to get into this business? Seems more suited for … ” Hunter paused, searching for a word.

“Suited for a man? Or were you going to say a retired bull rider?” Barb set her shoulders, waiting for his answer. “Because if you go all nineteen-fifties on me, I’m going to have to deck you. Mom at home raising kids, dad going to work, you know that’s a dream life, right?” “I was going to say someone more stodgy. You know, like those big belly businessmen that hang around the corrals, trying to land the next Lane Frost or Tuff Hedeman. All dressed up in what

they think passes as rodeo gear, or maybe did twenty years ago.” Hunter smiled. “Believe me, if you had come to talk to me about my future when I was riding, college would have been out the window.” Barb tilted her head. “I didn’t know you rode. Your file doesn’t mention it.” Hunter laughed. “You mean the press release version of Hunter Martin, the youngest marketing director in Martin Dairy history? I would have thought a smart girl like

you would see through the public relations crap.” “Other than the file your company has been distributing, there isn’t much else out there on you. I know where you like to drink your tequila shots but that’s from hanging out in the same dives when I’m home. I know you were voted most likely to succeed and most likely to make a movie by thirty by your senior class.” Barb smiled seductively. “Was that because of your drama credits or your smile?”

“Mostly because of my reputation as a high school Casanova. There were just too many pretty girls and not enough days in the week. I had to learn to juggle.” “Juggle women?” Now both of Barb’s eyebrows rose. “Dates. And mix in football games and debate. Believe me, it’s a losing concoction. I had a party at my house one night when the folks were out of town and seven girls who thought we were dating showed. After that fiasco, I kept it

down to one girl at a time.” Hunter grinned. “Very sporting of you.” Barb shook her head. “Too bad Jesse’s not here. I’m sure he could match you story for story. At least in the dating department. That boy was trouble the day he landed on this earth.” “You’ve known him a long time?” Hunter felt a stab of jealousy. Maybe there was more to Barb and Jesse than just manager and client.

“Jesse was a year younger at Shawnee. I guess I’ve known him forever. I don’t really remember him until Lizzie, she’s my best friend, started dating James freshman year. Everywhere James went his little brother followed. He was a funny kid, I mean funny, ha ha, not funny weird.” “So you guys grew up in the same town?” This was sounding worse and worse. The two had history together.

“Shawnee, Idaho. Population five hundred and one as of today. But Lizzie’s expecting twins so that will bump up the census soon.” Barb smiled. “Shawnee’s famous in local circles for the earliest rodeo of the season. First weekend of May, sun, rain, or snow.” “I think I went up for a rodeo with my frat brothers when I was in college. Pretty much a weekend party more than just a rodeo.” Barb laughed. “That’s Shawnee. Hell, the whole town gets involved.

The churches have yard sales, the school has a quilt show, and the FFA sells water and hot dogs for the parade.” “All I remember are the bars. Man, those rodeo chicks can dance.” “And now you’re on your way to Vegas. I’m sure you can find a gal or two who will two-step with you,” Barb teased. “This trip isn’t about the party. I told Dad I’ll let you do your dog and pony show before I made up my mind about the sponsorship.

And the rodeo is part of that show, although I think you’re missing your dog.” Barb frowned. “Jesse will be there.” When she didn’t elaborate, Hunter glanced down the aisle for the flight attendant. They’d talked all the way through the takeoff and the keeper of the beer was two aisles away. “So now that I’ve stuck my foot in my mouth, do you want a beer?”

Hunter could see Barb fighting a grin. “That would be lovely.” “Maybe dinner when we land?” Hunter gave the order to the flight attendant. “This is a working trip for me, you know.” Barb glanced out the window at the still bright sky. “Your star bull rider isn’t even in town tonight. And isn’t convincing me to sponsor him your real job this trip?” Hunter knew he was playing the sponsor card, pushing for time with her, but,

man, he wanted to keep that smile on her face directed at him. “That’s the trouble with you sponsors. You all think it’s all about you.” “I don’t think that.” Barb took the beer the flight attendant offered. “You don’t?” Hunter popped open the can, took a swig, then answered. “Of course not. It’s all about the money.”

Chapter 2 Staring at the little black dress she had slipped on after her shower, Barb pulled her curly hair back into a low chignon knot and sighed. What had she been thinking when she’d packed her bag? This dress was probably the most conservative one she owned and the neckline plunged way too low for dinner. A completely platonic business dinner with Hunter.

And the slut in the black dress. Barb slipped on her black pumps and grabbed her matching clutch. Might as well get this mess of a dinner over with and seal the deal on this contract. Although after the plane ride, Barb didn’t think it would be that easy. She glanced at the display on her phone. No missed calls. She’d called Cassie as soon as the plane had landed, but her mom had already gone to bed. It was hard on her, getting a new

caretaker, but Cassie had come highly recommended. All she had to do was get Hunter to sign the contract and she’d have enough of a boost in her income to put her mother into the home. Not the most charitable of thoughts, but Barb had realized long ago the day would come. Her mom’s attacks were coming on faster and faster, leaving the woman drained each time she returned to some sort of clarity.

No, Barb wasn’t doing her mom any favors by ignoring the problem. She just wished the world wasn’t sitting on top of her shoulders. At least just for one night. With one last glance in the mirror, she left the hotel room, slipping her cell in her purse. She still hadn’t heard from Jesse, either. That man kept her on her toes. Last year, when James had stayed on as part time manager of his brother, she hadn’t had this problem. This year, James had turned all the

management over to her so he could help Lizzie more. Half way through the season and she felt like she was dragging Jesse to every event. The boy seemed distracted even when he was present. Maybe he had girl problems. Not having James at his beck and call must have put a hole in his social circle. Barb smiled thinking about James and Lizzie, sitting at home cuddled on the couch. Star-crossed lovers that were finally meant to be together. Too bad the happy ever

after ending didn’t work for everyone. Coming out of the elevator, she glanced around the lobby. Men in tight jeans, button-down collared shirts, and Stetsons crowded the ornately decorated room. For a town that prided itself on flash and garnish, the hotel looked like it could have been downtown Chicago or New York based on the cold, modern lobby. The only nod to the rodeo that weekend in their convention center was the full-sized

black stone statue of a rider on a bucking horse placed strategically in the middle of the lobby area. “Barb?” a male voice called out. She glanced toward the voice. Adam Wainscott, owner of Wainscott Honda, another of her sponsors, held up a longneck bottle. Barb walked over to Adam and his sidekicks. The man never showed up at events alone. Time for a little marketing schmooze. “Adam.” She put her hand on his upper arm and embraced him in

a slight hug. “I didn’t know you were coming into town this weekend. You should have called. I could have gotten you tickets.” Adam put his arm around Barb. “Now, see boys, that’s what a sponsorship pays for, service like this.” The salesmen chuckled at the slight innuendo. Barb kept her smile but wanted to slug Adam in his too round gut. “Seriously, do you need tickets to the events? Jesse’s riding Sunday.”

“Nah, my secretary took care of all that. I just came up to show the guys what a real boys’ weekend is like. These two sold more Hondas last month than the rest of the staff combined. I’m real proud of them.” He nodded toward the dining room. “Why don’t you join us for some dinner?” The two men standing with Adam nodded enthusiastically, reminding Barb of the little dog on the dashboard of her mom’s car growing up. The head and tail had

bounced as they drove down the road, the plastic dog happy to be along for the ride. “I’ll have to take a rain check, Adam. I already have plans.” Barb scanned the room again for Hunter. Seriously, why was she always searching for the men in her life? Earlier Jesse had kept her waiting, tonight it was Hunter’s lateness that was allowing Adam’s salesmen to stare at her breasts like they had x-ray vision. She wanted to tell the men they were just boobs. That half

the population had them. More than half if you counted the man boobs on men like Adam. But she kept her mouth shut. “Who’s the lucky man? I might have to arm wrestle him for you.” Adam pulled her just a little too tightly and way too close to him. She didn’t know if she’d ever get the smell of his cheap cologne out of her dress. “I am.” Hunter’s voice came from behind them and Adam

quickly dropped his arm, releasing Barb. What a complete chicken shit. Barb stepped back and put her arm around Hunter who softly enveloped her into his arm. She smiled, pleased he’d followed her lead. “Adam, I’d like you to meet Hunter Martin.” Adam tipped his hat like he really was some sort of cowboy. “I didn’t know you were dating, Barb.” Hunter didn’t flinch. “We’ve been incognito for a while. You

know how the press can be with celebrity couples.” The three men glanced at each other, a question forming on each face. “Of course,” Adam said quickly. “Well, I’m sure our table’s ready by now. Tell Jesse we’ll be rooting for him come Sunday.” Adam ushered the two men away from Hunter and Barb. As they reached the dining room entrance, one of the men turned back and stared. Their voices

carried over the marble lobby so Barb could hear the conversation. “Who is he?” a salesman asked Adam. “Idiot,” Adam responded. “I can’t believe you don’t know him.” Barb watched as the men disappeared into the restaurant. She turned to Hunter, smiling. “Nice touch with the celebrity thing. Now Adam will have to have his secretary Google you when they get back.”

“Think he’ll be disappointed when he finds out I’m a marketing director for a dairy company?” Hunter smiled down at her. Suddenly Barb was too aware of Hunter’s arm still wrapped around her waist. Standing there next to one another and holding on like a couple in love. Barb dropped her arm and stepped out of Hunter’s embrace. “He’ll get over it.” Barb nodded to the hotel’s dining room. “Ready for dinner?”

Hunter put his hand on her arm and led her to the concierge’s stand instead. “Sorry, but I made other plans for us.” He nodded to the concierge stand. “Let’s check and see if our limo’s ready.” Barb frowned. “We come to a rodeo and you hire a limo?” “I told you Dad forced my hand on this trip. I’m just making sure the old man pays for the pleasure of your company tonight. We’re heading to the best steak house in town. I hope you have an appetite.”

Hunter glanced at Barb, his gaze dropping down and covering her entire body. “Although how you’re going to eat in that dress is beyond me.” “It’s Lycra,” Barb teased. “One size fits all.” “Don’t play with me. I think my heart just stopped for a second.” “So you like?” Barb slowly twirled. “If he doesn’t, I do.” The concierge smiled, holding the door open for the couple.

Hunter shook his head. “I can’t leave you alone for a second without every Tom, Dick, and Harry coming on to you.” “Hey, I’m José, not Harry.” The concierge laughed. “You’d better keep this one close, Mr. Martin, she’s a gem.” Barbara laughed. She hadn’t received this much attention in forever. Maybe she should dress up a little more often, rather than her normal uniform of jeans and tank tops. She slipped into the back seat,

sliding over as Hunter followed her. When he shut the door, she was acutely aware of the heat of Hunter’s body, warming her own. Tonight he’d worn a suit, black and perfect, the fabric soft when the jacket edge caressed her arm. A touch of casual, his blue silk shirt was unbuttoned and he had foregone the tie. She slipped into the far corner of the seat to give him some room, keeping herself from reaching out and sliding her hand on his leg.

He noticed her movement and a slight smile crossed his lips. “You look amazing tonight as well. I didn’t realize we were playing dress up.” Barb tried to lighten the mood that had turned seriously sexual as soon as the limo door had closed. They were alone. Together. “Well, for you not planning on playing, you picked the right outfit. Man, I thought those goons were going to throw you over their shoulders and carry you off to their

cave.” Hunter straightened his suit jacket. “I would have rescued you, my lady.” “I think you did. Adam and his guys are fine. A little typical salesman attitude for my taste, but honestly, they are good guys. At least Adam is. When you get to know him.” Barb played with the strap on her purse. Her sponsors rarely met each other. She was good at scheduling time with each company representative so that they thought they were number one

on her time priorities. She’d have to check in with Adam next week and smooth any ruffled feathers. Of course, Hunter hadn’t said he was a sponsor, he’d said they were dating. Whether that was better or worse, Barb couldn’t decide. She filed the thought away and decided just to enjoy the evening. For once. “So where are we going?” Barb looked out the window at the busy street. Traffic was backed up but instead of the sedans, taxis, and crossovers she’d see in San

Francisco, pimped out pickup trucks dominated the road. She wondered if the town’s traffic was always this way or if this was due to rodeo week. She’d often imagined what a town looked like after the rodeo. Living in Shawnee had taught her that what she saw was probably not normal town behavior for either the businesses or the people milling the streets. “I told you, the best steakhouse in town. Or, at least, according to José. Cottonwood Creek. I hope you

don’t embarrass me and order a salad. We’ll probably be escorted out.” “Nothing wrong with salad.” Barb gave him a wicked smile. “But if Martin Dairy is picking up the tab, I’m in for the steak. Or maybe surf and turf. Depends.” “That’s my girl.” Hunter leaned forward, staring out the window. “I think we’re here.” The limo pulled to the curb and the driver opened the door. Hunter stepped out then held his hand for

Barb to follow. It was official — she was in some sort of fairy tale. She smiled and slipped out of the limo. “We’ll text you when we order dessert so you can swing back around for us. Plan on at least an hour or two. I’ll keep you on the clock so go grab something to eat.” Hunter patted the driver on the arm. “Yes, sir.” The driver tipped his hat and closed the door behind them. “We could have taken a taxi.”

“What’s the fun in that? We can do a taxi in Boise. This way the driver gets a full night of pay for one trip.” Hunter took her arm and led her to the door of the restaurant. “And I’m a great tipper.” Barb just shook her head. Hunter Martin better be planning on Martin Dairy being Jesse’s new sponsor for all the money they were spending tonight. She pasted on her best sponsor smile and walked with him into the dining room.

••• The woman on Hunter’s arm looked amazing. Even better, she was funny and smart and quick to laugh. All qualities he looked for in a woman. Or at least qualities he would appreciate if this weren’t just a sponsor dinner. If they were on a real date. And if he were looking for a relationship. Which he wasn’t. No, Kati needed him. At seven, she needed stability in her life after his brother had dragged the little

girl from state to state, exploring the country. John and Rachel had been free spirits, roaming the country on that Harley, at least until Kati had been born. Then they’d upgraded to a Land Rover, but still traveled. Right after the accident, Kati had lived with Hunter and his dad at the ranch. Then Hunter had bought the new house in her old neighborhood. For the last six months, she’d barely talked when either man was around.

So when Kati had called to wish him a safe flight, he’d assumed his dad had prompted the call. But it didn’t matter. Kati had called. Thinking of home, Hunter patted his jacket pocket to make sure he’d brought his phone. He didn’t want her to call and not reach him. She needed to know he was there for her. Not like her mother and father. He didn’t know what John and Rachel had been thinking leaving Kati alone that night. A quick ride on the cycle and the little

girl had woken up to a new reality where she was an orphan. “Something wrong?” Barb was watching him. He realized he hadn’t said a word since they’d sat down at the table. “Not a thing.” He picked up the menu and pretended to study it while he watched Barb. No, the woman was off limits for many reasons. His and hers. But God, she was amazing to look at. When he’d seen her surrounded by those goons, he’d wanted to deck every

one of them. Especially the heavy set one with his arm around Barb. She’d looked uncomfortable, but apparently this Adam hadn’t seen that. Sometimes he didn’t understand his gender. Not at all. “Are you ready to order?” A waitress stood by their table, dressed in a way too short skirt, looking more like a Vegas casino girl than the old west saloon gal the costume was supposed to imitate.

He nodded to Barb. “Ladies first. Or should I order for you?” A wicked smile crossed her face and not for the first time that day, Hunter wondered what the woman was thinking. He hoped the thought was about him. Or him naked. Or them both naked. “Not in this lifetime, Mr. Stuckin-the-Fifties.” Barb proceeded to order a porterhouse with lobster, the loaded baked potato, and a salad on the side.

“Sounds good, I’ll have the same. But make my porterhouse rare. And ranch for the salad, please.” He handed the menus back. “Bring us a bottle of zin. Not too sweet, but not dry. You chose.” The waitress shook her head. “I don’t drink, so I’ll have the sommelier pick for you, okay?” “Whatever works, just don’t let him take forever with the wine.” He smiled at the waitress to soften the words then turned back to Barb. “I

like a girl who doesn’t just eat salad.” Her laughter tinkled in the candlelight. “I do eat my share of salads, believe me, but if Martin Dairy can afford a limo to take us to dinner, I guess they can afford a real meal.” She shook her white linen napkin open and laid it on her lap. “Besides, the last meal I had was toast and jam at my mom’s this morning before I met you at the airport. Just nudge me if I’m using

the wrong fork. They like their silver here.” “Fine dining places always put way too much stuff on the table. I can count on José for great recommendations every time I’m here. Any place that brings rolls when you set down is all right in my book.” Hunter tossed a warm roll to Barb. “Catch.” Barb’s eyes widened but she managed to grab the roll with one hand. She sat it on her bread plate

and carved a dollop of butter with her knife. “Nice form.” Barb’s eyebrow rose. “In addition to barrel racing, I was captain of the girls’ baseball team.” “Talented.” Hunter finished buttering his own roll and took a bite. “Small school. I don’t think there was a girls’ sport team that Lizzie and I weren’t on. I hated volleyball, but Liz loved it. She hated basketball, but played anyway

so we’d have enough players to set a team.” Barb took a bite of her roll, her eyes rolling in pleasure. “These are good.” “Told you.” Hunter wondered what he’d have to do to get that same reaction. “Do you like to gamble? Is that why you visit Vegas so much?” Barb’s tone sounded light, like she was trying for non-judgmental. She knew he was worth a hunk of change.

“There’s a ranch outside town for kids who’ve lost their way. Either foster kids or just kids angry enough to get in trouble early.” Hunter took another roll, avoiding Barb’s eyes. He figured his answer had surprised her. “Martin Dairy supports the ranch. I come out here probably every other month to help out. Or I did. Lately, things at home have been complicated.” Barb nodded but to his surprise didn’t ask about the complications. A man stood at the side of the table

with a bottle of wine in his hands. He poured a taste of the wine for Hunter. “Is this what you were looking for sir?” the man asked politely. Hunter took a sip then nodded. “Perfect.” The sommelier smiled, then poured each a glass. “Your waitress will know what wine to bring if you need a second bottle. Have a good night.” The man walked away. Hunter held up his glass. “To a perfect night.”

Barb hesitated then held up her own. “To making new friends.” Hunter hoped the comment wasn’t meant to limit their involvement because right now, at this moment, there was nothing friendly in his feelings for the beautiful woman sitting across from him. Visions of hot sweaty sex filled his mind with Barb in the starring role. Kissing those full lips, touching those perfect breasts, her long legs. Nope, his feelings were

not a bit friendly. They were all pure lust. Two hours later, the limo driver was still not answering. Hunter frowned. “I hope he’s all right.” Barb shook her head. “No wonder everyone likes you, you’re Mr. Pollyanna. The guy probably took a run after he dropped us off and now is trying to get that finished up before he comes back for us.”

Hunter shook his head, matching her movement. “Cynical for such a young lady.” He took her arm. “Let’s go wait in the bar so they can rent out our table again.” “See, ever thoughtful.” Barb stumbled on her heels. “Oops, sorry, not used to wine, I guess.” “What about tequila?” Her smile told him everything he wanted to know, but she answered anyway. “Line up the shot glasses, I take mine with lime and salt.”

He adored her laugh. He loved her body. Yep, Barbara Carico was definitely the total package. And there was only one thing wrong with her — she’d come into his life at the wrong time. Hunter put the shot glass to his lips and tipped back his head to drown out the voice that was telling him he needed little Miss Carico. When the limo finally arrived two hours later, the couple had decided on two more stops. First stop, the county courthouse, then a

chapel with a minister who channeled Elvis. This time, the driver stayed with them, delivering a very drunk and happy Mr. and Mrs. Hunter Martin back to the hotel.

Chapter 3 Bright sunlight filled the room, burning Barb’s eyes. Her mouth was dry, tasting like she’d chewed on an old cowboy boot all night. What had they been drinking? Barb sat up, pulling the covers around her naked body. Nothing unusual there, she didn’t believe in nightgowns, especially those lace and feathers ones old boyfriends had tried to buy her. She slept

better naked and if she had a visitor, her choice made it that much more fun. Barb glanced at the clock. Almost ten. Man, she must have tied one on after they left the restaurant. Wait, no, it was in the restaurant bar where they’d started doing tequila shots. Fruit and salt optional. Hunter had been unable to reach the limo driver so they’d sat in the bar talking and … A sound caught her attention. Running water. Someone was in the

shower. Her shower. She froze. What had happened after the bar? She vaguely remembered kissing Hunter. Long passionate kisses in the back of the limo, hands running all over her body. And then they’d come to her room. She stretched out her arms like a cat waking from a long, summer nap. Something sparkled on her hand, catching her attention. A ring. She sat straight up and stared at her hand. A diamond ring on her left hand. What had they done? She

stared at the bathroom door. Sex with Hunter, although it probably had been amazing, if she could remember it, was one thing. But marrying the guy? That just went to crazy, coo coo land. “Breathe,” she said to herself. “Let’s look at the facts. One, you both were pretty wasted last night. Two, there’s a ring on your finger. And three … ” She stopped her list and took the deep breath she’d been telling herself to take. “And three,

there’s someone in your freaking shower.” She threw herself back down on the bed, covering herself with the covers. Instantly, she regretted the quick movement as her head pounded out the beat of an Elvis tune. “Blue Hawaii,” maybe? A memory from last night hit her — Elvis had married them. And then sang “Love Me Tender” with a melody mix. The guy had actually been kind of good from what Barb could remember.

Married. She was married. Again. She really had to stop coming to Vegas. Kevin had tricked her into her first marriage, but this one she had no one to blame but herself. And the tequila. A knock sounded on her door. Crap, room service? Had Hunter ordered breakfast? She pulled on sweat shorts and a tee shirt. “I’m coming,” she called to the door. She pulled her hair back into a clip she found on the dresser and grabbed up her discarded clothing from the

floor. Hunter must have gathered his clothing up before he’d gone into the bathroom. “Idiot,” she whispered to the woman staring at her in the mirror. Sleeping with a sponsor was bad. With a potential sponsor, worse. And marrying one? That was just off the charts stupid. Now they’d pussyfoot around each other the rest of the weekend and when Hunter went back home, she’d be toast. The guy had too much class to sponsor the clients of the one

night stand slut he’d just slept with. “Stupid.” She went to the door and swung it open. Not even looking at the busboy, she said, “Come on in, let me find my purse.” “You don’t have to tip me.” Hunter chuckled. “It’s just coffee.” She turned back. There in the hallway stood Hunter Martin with a carafe of coffee and two cups. But if he was in the hallway, who in the world was in her shower?

He walked into the room. “You look like hell. You didn’t have to match me shot for shot. I’ve had a lot of experience with tequila.” She sank into the couch, words escaping her. He sat the carafe down on the coffee table and poured a steaming cup of coffee. Handing it to her, he poured a second cup and sat down. Hunter watched her, not saying anything. Finally, he grinned. “You’re not a morning person, are

you? I figured we needed to talk about what happened last night.” “Sorry, I’m just preoccupied. Maybe we could meet for lunch?” Barb sat her cup on the table and stood, hoping Hunter would get the hint. She didn’t know what or whom she’d done last night after coming back to the hotel, but she was afraid she was going to find out. As soon as that bathroom door opened. “Sit down. I’d like to talk about the contract. You know I wasn’t in

the pro sponsorship camp before this trip, but I’m beginning to see the advantages. I just have a few questions. And we need to make some decisions.” Hunter sipped his coffee, waiting for her to sit. “That’s great!” Barb took a step toward the door. “Let me get dressed and I’ll meet you downstairs in the coffee shop and we can talk.” Hunter shook his head and stood. “Okay prima donna, you have

ten minutes to shower and get downstairs.” Barb smiled. “I’ll be there.” She walked toward the door. As her hand reached out to grasp the knob, a voice came from the now open bathroom door. “Hey Barbie? I hope you don’t mind I used your shampoo. I forgot mine again.” Jesse Sullivan stepped out of the bathroom, drying his hair with one of the expensive towels, in a pair of jeans and nothing else.

“Oops, sorry, I didn’t know you had company.” Hunter turned and looked at Barb. She felt the blood run out of her face. She couldn’t explain why a man was in her shower, especially Jesse. “Jesse Sullivan.” Jesse held his hand out to Hunter. “You must be the sponsor Barb’s been so excited about. You’re in the cattle business right?” “Dairy.” Hunter shook Jesse’s hand. Then looked at Barb. “We

missed you at the airport yesterday.” “What can I say, I’m bad at making connections.” He sat on the couch, flipping the towel over his shoulder. “Cool, coffee.” Jesse took a big swig, then looked up at Hunter and Barb. “Was this someone’s?” He held the cup up to Barb, then Hunter. “No, I was just leaving.” Hunter took a step to the doorway. “I’ll be downstairs in a few minutes.” Barb followed him to the

doorway. “I forgot — I won’t be able to meet you. I’m heading to the airport. They need me back in Boise.” Hunter refused to meet Barb’s gaze. “On a Saturday?” Barb crossed her arms. The guy was bailing on her. Just because he’d found Jesse in her room. Okay, so it sounded bad when she thought it too. She reached out to touch Hunter’s arm. “Look, just give me a second to

clear this up. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.” Hunter laughed, the sound hollow. “There’s no chance of that, Barb. I’ll just have my attorney call and get this cleaned up.” Barb froze. She watched Hunter walk out the door, slamming it just a little too loud. “Jeez, he’s in a bad mood. What’d you do to him last night? Say no?” Jesse was leaned up on the couch, one arm draped along the back.

Barb focused on the shut door and blinked back the tears that were threatening to fall. Hunter Martin was just a potential sponsor. Nothing more, nothing less. Then why did she feel like part of her heart had just walked out the door with him? She took a deep breath and turned on Jesse. “What are you doing in my hotel room? In my shower?” Jesse shrugged. “By the time I got in this morning, they’d let my

room go for last night. I told them we were together and the bellboy let me in. We tried to call, but boy, you sleep hard. Have a little mojo juice last night?” “Tequila.” Barb sank into the couch and took the cup from Jesse, finishing her coffee. “With that Hunter guy,” Jesse prodded. Barb nodded but the movement made her head feel like it was going to split open. She curled her legs up underneath her. “We went to

dinner, then the limo was late, so we had a few shots.” “Unreliable limo driver. I haven’t used that ploy in a long time.” Jesse took the cup Hunter had left and poured more coffee in both their cups. “Ploy? You think it was a trick to get me drunk?” Barb grimaced. “Did you wear that black dress of yours? With the do-me heels?” When Barb nodded, Jesse laughed. “Of course it was a ploy. Barbie, I love you like a sister but

when you wear that outfit, even I want to sleep with you.” Barb kicked her foot at him but Jesse was too fast and grabbed her ankle. “Don’t take your frustrations out on me. So since he wasn’t in the room when I showed up, I guess you came to your senses and said no?” Barb thought about last night. She remembered sitting in the bar, laughing. She remembered kissing Hunter — hot, passionate kisses. She remembered stripping her

clothes off and falling onto the bed, and then she remembered Hunter gently covering her up with the sheet and kissing her on the forehead. “He tucked me in and then said he’d be back with coffee in the morning.” “So you didn’t sleep with him.” Jesse rubbed her foot. “No, I think I married him. But now that he found you in my shower, he probably thinks I slept with you instead.”

Jesse seemed to ponder that thought. “Could be true.” He leaned around her to check his hair in the mirror. “Wait? You married him?” “You have to tell him we didn’t sleep together.” Barb pulled her foot out of Jesse’s hand, wincing at the too quick movement. “I don’t kiss and tell.” Jesse got serious for a second. “Are you joking with me? Did you really marry the guy?” “I think so.” She held her hand out for Jesse to see the ring.

“He’s got good taste. How are you going to keep him from divorcing you now that we’ve done the nasty?” “But we didn’t.” Barb threw a pillow at him. Jesse let out an exaggerated sigh. “Fine, I’ll tell him our relationship is purely platonic. But don’t expect me to tell anyone else. I’m seen as a rodeo god with a hot chick for a manager.” “Jesse Sullivan, you better not be telling people we’re sleeping

together.” Barb narrowed her eyes at her bull rider. “I’ve never said that. But I can’t be held responsible for what other people think.” Jesse smiled. “Especially when it comes to me and you.” ••• “Idiot,” Hunter muttered. The hotel clerk looked at him, eyes wide. “I’m sorry, sir, sometimes these computers take a little time to finish the process.”

“No, I mean, I’m sorry, I was talking about myself.” Hunter shook his head. The young girl at the desk frowned, her hand hovering near the phone, ready to call security if this crazy man tried something. Hunter put on his marketing smile. “You ever give your heart away too early in a relationship?” The girl’s shoulders dropped and she nodded. Grabbing the printout from the printer under the counter, she gave him a pen to sign

the bill. She smiled up at him. “All the time.” Hunter signed the paper, took his copy, and folded it into his jacket pocket. He nodded to the clerk. “Then I’m in good company.” “I hope the rest of your weekend goes better.” The girl said. “Too bad you’re leaving so soon. The rodeo’s in town. That’s always a good time.” Unless Barb Carico was in the same town with Jesse Sullivan. Hunter smiled at the girl and

headed to the taxi stand. He’d called the airport and there was a flight to Boise later this afternoon. He could have stayed in his hotel room, but once he’d seen Jesse crawl out of Barb’s shower, he didn’t want to be in the same town as the creep, let alone the same hotel. Jesse had taken advantage of a very drunk Barb that Hunter had gently poured into her bed last night, untouched. And from the look on Barb’s face when she first saw him in the hallway, she hadn’t known whom

she’d slept with last night. She must have figured Hunter was the one taking a shower when he’d knocked on her door. If he hadn’t been a complete and utter gentleman last night, he could have been that man. He was her husband after all. At least until his lawyer could get this mistake annulled. But he hadn’t wanted to take advantage of the oh-so-drunk Barb, even though their chemistry and her kisses shot him from zero to sixty in one touch. He’d wanted

her. And from the way she’d kissed him, the feelings were mutual. So why was Jesse in her hotel room right now instead of him? “Because you’re an idiot,” he said again. This time, no one was around to hear him. He waved down a taxi, shoved his bag into the trunk, and slipped into the back seat. “Airport.” The cabbie nodded and Hunter leaned back on the seat, not looking at the hotel disappearing from view.

••• Four P.M. and Hunter was on his fifth cup of coffee. He’d picked at a lunch he’d bought at one of the chain restaurants in the airport, not wanting to eat, but he didn’t have anything else to do. His plane didn’t leave for another two hours. He’d bought a book at the gift shop, picking up Kati a stuffed horse with Las Vegas stitched on the blanket. Kati was horse crazy and already taking riding lessons. He’d thought

she’d want ballet or piano, but when he asked, all she’d wanted was her own horse and saddle. At seven, the girl was focused and determined. And slow to smile. But when she rode, her face relaxed and she really, truly smiled. He’d been right to put Kati first. The girl needed stability. Not women traipsing in and out of his life. Especially women like Barb whose job took her out of town every weekend and into hotel rooms with Jesse Sullivan.

And there he was again. Thinking about the scene this morning. He stood up and threw his cup into a trashcan and started walking the row of shops, not looking at anything, just walking. When he glanced at his watch again, take off was less than an hour away. He headed back to his gate. Coming up on the row of chairs in front of the windows, he saw a woman with red, curly hair sitting in one of the rows, talking on the

phone. From the back, it looked like Barb. But why would she be here, waiting for his plane? They didn’t let non-passengers through the security gate anymore. They hadn’t for years. So it was another red haired woman flying to Boise. He relaxed. Now he was jumping at shadows. He took a seat in the row facing the woman, just to convince himself he was crazy. He listened as she said, “You better make your ride tomorrow. I’m trusting you. And if

you run into Adam, show him some of that Sullivan charm. He’s had a bad weekend.” He’d known it. Barb sat across from him, giving Jesse the riot act. He smiled — at least she tried to have her man under control. Of course, sleeping with her client probably gave her more power than he knew. Something grabbed his heart and squeezed while he watched her. His wife. Jesse’s lover.

Barb ended her call, tucked the cell into her purse, and looked right at him. Surprise filled her eyes. “Hunter. I thought you left this morning?” she asked, her lips tight. Hunter took in a breath, filtered all the things he wanted to say, and finally just answered her question. “This was the first plane out.” “I called your room. I wanted to explain. But the front desk said you checked out before noon.” Barb glanced around the waiting area.

“You’ve been here since you left the hotel?” Hunter felt himself redden. He would look like a spurned schoolboy if he said yes, but she knew when he’d checked out, so lying wasn’t an option. He chose a safe response. “I had some work to finish and its quiet here.” Barb glanced at his feet and he realized he didn’t have a briefcase or laptop or even that tablet his secretary had bought him last year. Great, now she knew he was a liar.

“Oh.” That was all she was going to say? Oh? Hunter went on the defensive. “Why are you here and not with Jesse?” The look on her face told him he’d scored with his jab. Pain crossed her eyes but her words surprised him. “My mother fell. She’s been rushed to the hospital and is in surgery, but they won’t tell me anything else. I have to get home.” Barb choked on the words.

“Oh, Barb, I’m so sorry.” Now he felt like a total jerk. He slipped into the chair next to her. And to his surprise, Barb Carico Martin turned and put her head on his shoulder and sobbed. He pulled her close, stroking her hair. Comforting her. Telling her it would be all right. The same words he’d told Kati when he’d found her alone with her babysitter and had to tell her that her parents were dead. When even he knew, nothing would be all right again.

Chapter 4 Sitting in the Denver airport, Barb glanced at her watch again. There was no way she’d get into Boise before two in the morning now that their plane had been delayed once again. And she’d turned in her rental car yesterday morning before leaving for Vegas, since her plan had been to head back to her condo in California to water the plants and

feed her cat. She pulled up her cell, checking again for missed calls. Cassie was probably home in bed. Her mother had come out of surgery with no issues. Cassie had still been at the hospital when Barb had called after landing in Denver. The doctor had already come and gone by that point, and even though she trusted Cassie’s version of the story, she would have liked to talk to him to make sure they understood her mother’s condition. To say that Lorraine would be

confused when she came out of the anesthesia would be an understatement. Or, Barb hoped, maybe she’d have a good day. You just never knew with her mother anymore. “Here.” A large paper cup floated in front of her. The smell of dark, deep coffee with a touch of chocolate filled her senses. The comfort it gave her was so overwhelming, she almost cried. Shaking her head, she took the cup. Crying over coffee.

What was wrong with her? She didn’t dare glance at Hunter for fear he’d see the tears in her eyes. “Thanks,” she muttered. She felt him slip into the seat next to her, the heat coming off his body like a blast furnace. Or that pottery kiln her mom had bought ten years ago when she’d fallen into the ceramic craze for a few months. Her mom had been the fun mom in high school. Lizzie and Barb had known if they wanted a little independence or craziness, they

went to Barb’s house after school. If they wanted to be fed, they went to Lizzie’s. Remembering Lizzie’s Betty Crocker mom lead Barb to remember how she’d died of cancer. Then she started hyperventilating thinking about losing her own mom. “Hey, slow down. It’s going to be fine.” Hunter took the cup of coffee away from her and sat it on the built-in table between them. “I know. I just keep thinking about how she used to be.” Barb

smiled as she slowed her breathing. “Anything I wanted to do, she’d support me. Want to learn to ride? Here’s a horse. Want to take ballet? We’ll drive into Boise once a week for lessons. The woman was an amazing mom.” “She is an amazing mom,” Hunter corrected. “What?” Barb looked up at him. “You said was. She’s not dead yet, Barb.” Hunter leaned forward, his forearms on his knees. “I lost my mom years ago. And now Kati’s

dealing with the same loss, doubled.” Kati. His girlfriend’s name was Kati. And she’d been sucking on Hunter’s face last night, wanting him to sleep with her, and he’d turned her down because of Kati. Now Kati would be hurt because they’d played bride and groom with Elvis. Maybe he hadn’t left because Jesse had been in her room. Maybe he needed to be back in Boise, just like she did.

The world doesn’t revolve around you, Miss Barb. One of her mom’s favorite sayings. But Barb knew her mother well enough to know the woman thought the world revolved around herself. Or should. She put her hand on his arm and almost immediately jerked it back, surprised at the jolt of energy that flowed between them. “I’m sorry about your loss.” The words sounded stupid but the feeling was there. And she hoped he would take it the right way.

“Kati’s the one who’s jerked up about this. She puts on a big front, all hard and grown up, but inside, she’s hurting. I could kill my brother for doing this to her.” Barb stopped focusing on the feel of his bicep on her hand and replayed his words. “Your brother? What did he do?” Hunter looked into her face like he was checking to see if she was kidding. “I guess your file on me didn’t cover that part of my life, huh? I’m raising my seven-year-old

niece because my brother and his wife chose to be reckless and got themselves killed the first of the year.” Barb froze. She hadn’t known. Why hadn’t she found this when she’d been researching Hunter and his family business? She’d been on the computer preparing for the trip when her phone had rung. The agency calling, telling her that her mom needed a new care provider again. She’d shut the laptop and headed to her room to pack, and

never got back to her prep work. Sloppy. But at least she wasn’t shopping in someone else’s store. No wonder the bachelor was off the market, he’d been playing substitute dad. And heaven help her, she felt happy Kati wasn’t his girlfriend. “I’m sorry, Hunter, I didn’t know. I should have known. There’s no excuse.” Hunter held up his hand. “Stop. I didn’t tell you so you could feel sorry for me or bad that you didn’t

know to treat me with kid gloves. Honestly, last night at dinner was the first time since the accident that I didn’t just focus on me. On how my life has been turned upside down just because my brother wanted to go on a motorcycle ride. Sometimes I wish he was alive again so I could kill him myself for what he’s taken away from that little girl.” Barb nodded. “Jesse and James, his brother, lost their mom when they were little. She didn’t die

— worse — she just left. Came to Vegas for a better, more glamorous life. James still hasn’t totally forgiven her but Jesse would do anything for that woman. I think he wants to prove to her that he still loves her, no matter what.” Hunter leaned back in his chair, his long legs stuck out in the middle of the aisle. “Parents sure can screw us up without even thinking about it.” “Sounds like Kati has a guardian angel for an uncle. She’ll

be fine. You’ll see.” Barb stood and stretched. Hunter caught her hand. “You’re wearing the ring.” Heat filled her face. She’d forgotten about the ring. “I’d meant to give it back when I saw you but with Mom and all, I’d forgotten.” Hunter frowned. “Give it back? Why?” “Well, since we can’t be married and I’m sure your lawyer will take care of the paperwork, I thought you wouldn’t want me to

have an expensive ring as a bonus.” She pulled at the ring, but her fingers were swollen from the flight. “Crap, I’m going to have to get some soap.” Hunter stood and put his hands on her arms. “Barb, its fine. The ring’s a fake. What did the guy call it last night? A placer ring? One that we could replace when the jewelry stores opened.” Barb stared down at the ring. “I would have never guessed. The stone looks like a diamond.”

“If this had been an actual wedding with Mr. Hunter Martin, the bride would have been given the Martin family bridal set, very exclusive and worth a literal fortune. At least to a Martin.” Hunter used the fake announcer voice from the emergency broadcast commercials. “Funny.” “So, yeah, the ring is just a souvenir from the great time we had last night. One you can keep.” Hunter chuckled. “I’ve never

wanted to be married so bad as I did last night. Thanks for the fantasy.” He leaned in and Barbara felt the heat from his body matching hers. He would kiss her, right now, right here. But his lips grazed her lips then landed on her cheek. Her breath caught. This was what she wanted, right? A friendly annulment. No fight, no marriage. “So was Jesse upset about our fantasy wedding?” The question confused her. “Why would he be upset?”

“The two of you are involved, right?” Hunter’s face showed no emotion, like he was preparing for the slap. “Jesse Sullivan isn’t involved with anyone but himself.” Barb laughed. “He’s like a little bratty brother.” Barb nodded to the information desk that was outside their gate. Several of the airline staff members had congregated where just a few minutes before, there’d been only one agent waiting to announce their

departure. “Something’s going on. Want to go check it out?” Hunter stood, but before they could walk the few steps to the counter, an announcement came over the speaker. “Would all the passengers for Flight Forty-Five-Ninety-Five going to Boise, Idaho, please meet at the reservations desk at Gate Five?” “Sounds like we’ve been summoned.” Hunter put his hand on her back and led her toward the desk.

“This isn’t going to be a good announcement. It’s never good when they call you over to the desk.” Barb looked at Hunter. “I learned that in fourth grade when Mrs. Todd sent me out for detention.” “Let me guess, talking in class.” “What else?” The two of them stood at the desk, watching the other passengers huddle around them. A man with wire-rimmed glasses and a clipboard stood in front of the desk.

“Folks, please quiet down. We’ve lost a plane and will be unable to complete your flight to Boise until tomorrow morning. The airline will comp your room for the night as well as pay for your dinner if you haven’t already eaten. The hotel van is ready outside the terminal and your luggage has already been loaded on the van. If you’ll just come up when I call your name, I’ll give you your vouchers.” “How in the world did you lose a plane? It didn’t crash, did it?” a

tall, nervous woman next to Barb asked. “The plane didn’t crash. We just don’t know what airport it’s at right now. There were some problems with the computers and they don’t have the entire inventory listing correct. We’ll have to track the missing plane by trip logs.” Barb’s heart sank. She glanced around the deserted airport and realized getting a seat on another airline would be impossible. She sighed. Hunter’s arm encircled her.

“Your mom is fine. She’s sleeping and won’t even know you aren’t there.” Hunter started following the crowd, leading Barb with him. “It will do you good to get an almost full night’s sleep.” Barb didn’t comment, but she knew he was thinking about their dinner and late night activities from the night before. “I’m hungry. And I never turn down a free meal. What about you?” Hunter pressed.

“I could eat,” Barb admitted. The man had a way of making everything seem like it would work out. That even if tragedy struck, you’d be able to claw through it, because he’d be right by your side. Being married to him would be amazing. This was one man that believed in the good times or in bad vow they’d taken last night. Maybe after all of this, they could find a way to be friends. “Then let’s get on the bus.”

The hotel’s restaurant was filled with customers and they had a thirty minute wait before they were seated. Barb almost just gave up. Then her stomach rumbled when a waitress walked by with a tray of food. The smell of the place made her mouth water. When they sat down, a basket of fresh bread and cold butter was delivered by a busboy. Barb grabbed a roll like it was a lifeline. She’d finished the first one and held the knife filled with butter for the

second one when she realized Hunter was watching her. “What?” “I just appreciate a woman with a good appetite. This is our second meal together and you still haven’t pulled out the ‘I’m on a diet’ card most women I date play.” Hunter grinned. “Is it all right for me to take a roll or will you bite my hand?” “Ha, ha. I haven’t eaten since last night.” Barb blushed at the memory of who she’d been with last

night, enjoying dinner. Two nights in a row, and she liked being with this guy. She didn’t have to put on the manager hat and treat him like a sponsor. That idea had flown the coop last night. She’d have to scrounge up a new potential sponsor and fast. She didn’t have a choice with her mom’s placement anymore. Time for Countryside. The waitress brought their drinks and took their meal orders, polite but quick to leave. She looked frazzled.

“I am so glad I don’t waitress anymore.” Barb watched the woman tuck their menus under her arm and head to the next table. “When did you do that? And where?” Hunter leaned forward. “During college. I worked nights and weekends out at the truck stop. The hours worked with my classes and the tips were fantastic. You’d get the drunk crowd on the weekends from the bar just down the road, but mostly my

drivers were just looking for a good meal and some conversation.” Hunter cocked his head at her. “I could see you waitressing.” “Gee, thanks.” “No, that’s a compliment. You’re very good at reading people. Knowing what they need and getting what you want. That’s probably why you’re a great manager.” Hunter sipped his longneck, ignoring the frosted glass the waitress had left on the table.

Barb watched him. “I could say the same about you. But it’s not at all the image you portray — or at least it wasn’t before you became the world’s most amazing uncle.” Hunter’s grin was sheepish. “I did like my party time. But for the last few months, getting to know Kati, I’ve been surprised at how much I adore that little girl. I mean, I was always the fun uncle. But now I get to tuck her in bed and listen to the woes and joys of second grade. And we’re even reading the wizard

books.” He shook his head. “I bet Dad’s been throwing a fit when he’s had to read about castles and wizards and magic. He was always more of a Louis L’amour guy.” “Tell me about Kati.” Barb sipped her beer, promising herself one beer wouldn’t lead her down last night’s path. “The kid’s amazing. She’s smart and funny. You don’t realize how much kids know at that age. Or I didn’t. Getting thrown into fatherhood when a kid’s in

elementary school is trial by fire. She loves horses. I’ve got her in lessons at a stable out near Meridian. Her horse is boarded there, so we spend a lot of time on the road most weekends.” “She any good?” “At riding? Hell, yeah. According to her trainer, she’s going to show this fall. And she’s only been riding for what, three months?” Hunter folded his napkin. “After the accident, she didn’t talk to me for weeks. Finally I asked her

what she wanted to do. Anything — ballet, soccer, girl scouts, modeling, devil worshiping? I would have let her do anything if she’d just start to come back to earth.” “And she chose riding?” Barb smiled. “Apparently she’d been in love with horses since she could remember but her dad told her it was too dangerous. The man who got him and his wife killed on a motorcycle thought horseback riding was too dangerous. The jerk.”

“You must have loved your brother very much.” “I did. The jerk.” Hunter wiped at his eyes. “But I love his daughter even more, if that’s even possible. I’d do just about anything for the kid. And I think after what we spent at the ’tween clothing store last weekend, she knows it.” “Sounds like the girl knows how to pull the purse strings. Not a bad skill to learn early. My friend Lizzie never forced the issue. She was happy when James gave her

scraps of attention, of love, until it was over. Now, no one is going to short change her again. And James knows it. Finally.” Barb leaned back and let the waitress put a plate of chicken parmesan in front of her. The steam from the red sauce brought her back to the present and her stomach growled again. “If the women I’ve dated lately are any indication, your gender is born with that skill. Are you telling me it’s acquired?” Hunter salted his clam linguine before he even tasted

it and twirled the pasta onto his fork. “The things we learn when we sit down to break bread with the enemy.” Barb laughed. “I’m bound to tell you all our secrets now that we’re married.” Hunter’s eyes flashed and Barb didn’t know if she’d gone overboard with the teasing. She cut a piece of the chicken and took a bite. “Yum.” The word escaped her mouth before she could even think.

“You are really just as open as you appear to be? I mean, this woman, this is who you are?” Barb frowned. “Who else would I be?” Hunter ate quietly before he spoke again. Finally, he picked up the beer bottle and held it out to Barb in a fake cheer. He nodded at her bottle and she raised it. “To honesty. May we always be truthful with each other, no matter where we are or who we’re with.”

“I’m afraid you don’t know what you’re asking for. That’s kind of a monkey paw type of vow, isn’t it?” “Bring on the troubles. I’m celebrating tonight. I’ve finally found a woman who promises to be honest with me. I’m a lucky man.” To honor and obey, if she remembered the vows correctly. Too bad this marriage was just pretend. She believed she could like being married to Hunter Martin. Really. Like.

She ducked her head down and concentrated on her meal. Food never disappointed. Not if it was prepared with skill and love.

Chapter 5 “We’ve been waiting for you two.” The perky blonde at the hotel check in desk smiled. “Our last room, then we’re all booked. Doesn’t happen often, but when it does, boy, do the managers celebrate.” Barb leaned on the counter, exhausted. “You mean the last two rooms, right?” The blonde — Amy, according to her nametag — frowned and

tapped some keys on her computer. “Nope, just one more reservation for the airline — a Mr. Hunter Martin?” “What about my room? Barb Carico?” Barb groaned. This couldn’t be happening. She was tired. Too tired to find another hotel. Amy typed faster. “No, sorry, no reservation.” She leaned into the screen and ran a perfectly polished purple nail down what appeared to be a list. “Wait, a Barbara Caruso

checked in a few hours ago. The clerk had two reservations listed for her and canceled one. I guess we goofed.” Barb took a deep breath, trying to calm down. “You gave away my room and all you can say is you goofed? What am I supposed to do now? Sleep in the lobby?” Hunter put his hand on her arm. “Give me the key to my room. We’ll share.” Barb shrugged out of his grasp. “I don’t want to share. I want the

room I was promised.” At the desk, Amy checked the computer again. “I’m so sorry, but there isn’t another room available. I can call other hotels to see if they have an opening.” “That won’t be necessary. Are our bags in the room?” Hunter took the key card that Amy had placed on the desk. Amy nodded. “When we had two sets of luggage left, we just assumed you two were the couple that had gotten married in Vegas.

My friend is a flight attendant and she said there were newlyweds scheduled on the flight.” Barb had seen that couple. A guy with a middle age paunch and receding hairline and a bottle blonde half his age. They’d slipped into the family restroom during the wait at the airport, coming out just a little messed. Heck, the two probably hadn’t even waited for dinner, just checked in and were bopping like bunnies. All Barb

wanted was a bed to sleep in. “Does the room have two beds?” Amy glanced back at the computer screen. She grimaced and Barb knew her answer. “We put you in the honeymoon suite. No extra charge to the airline. We thought it would be a nice surprise.” “Well, since we did get married in Vegas, your instincts were correct. Come on, honey, we’ll deal with your snoring tonight.” Hunter pulled Barb toward the elevator.

“My snoring?” Barb tilted her head at Hunter. “Well, there had to be some reason you didn’t want to sleep with your very attractive husband in the same room.” Hunter grinned at her as the elevator doors closed on them. “Besides, I’ve never been in a honeymoon suite. I hope they have a hot tub in the room.” “I just hope they have a bed.” “Why, Mrs. Martin, are you trying to seduce me?” Hunter growled.

“In your dreams, buddy.” Barb couldn’t help it — she laughed. And kept laughing until the elevator reached the top floor. “Are you all right?” Hunter put his hand on Barb’s back, leading her down the hallway. Barb’s laughter died down after a few deep breaths, and she wiped away the tears. “You have to admit, this has been the weirdest weekend.” But when Hunter swung open the door to the suite, her laughter

bubbled up all over again. There in the middle of the room was a heartshaped bed, rose petals strewn across the white linens, a bottle of champagne chilling, a basket of strawberries, and what appeared to be bowls of whipped cream and chocolate. The in-suite Jacuzzi bubbled water gently, with a head of suds looking more like a snow bank cresting the water. They looked at each other. “Well, it has a bed.” Hunter smiled.

“And a hot tub,” Barb added. They didn’t move from the doorway, like they were afraid of the room. Afraid of what might happen if they entered. Like the anticipation of sex the room presented would be overwhelming to their rational minds. Hunter turned and lifted her into his arms. “What in the hell are you doing?” “I may only get one night with you.” He stared into her eyes. “We

are married. Let’s act like it. Just for tonight.” He was waiting for her answer, Barb realized. She sat in the driver’s seat here. All she had to do was say “put me down,” and he would. The night would go on like they were the strangers they’d been on Thursday. Polite, friendly strangers — Hunter would be a potential sponsor again. His hair curled over his ears and Barb’s fingers brushed it back into place. She wanted this night.

One night and then she’d go back to dealing with the reality of her life. Of the decision she would be making for her mother when she returned home. One night when she wasn’t a babysitter for a bunch of bull riders or a businesswoman. She wanted to say yes. And so she did. Hunter carried her into the room, kicking the door shut with his foot. He laid her on the bed, the smell from the rose petals overwhelming her senses. Roses

and him. He was salty, musky, and sweet all at the same time. He kissed her, soft and gentle. “Mrs. Martin, I love the way you kiss.” Smiling, Barb pulled him down into a second kiss. When he finished, he rose, asking again, “You sure?” Barb started unbuttoning his shirt, the feel of the soft cotton against her fingers teasing her. She reached under the shirt with both hands, feeling his muscular chest with just enough hair to tickle her

fingertips, but not so much she thought she was petting a bear in the zoo. She groaned. “I’ve never been this sure in my life about anything.” With that, he smiled and lifted up her shirt. “Then honey, I’m home.” He reached out for her large breasts still in her black lace bra, pushed the two together, and licked the cleavage. As he thumbed her nipples, she arched her back in response.

He leaned up and slipped off his shirt, then pulled her forward, enabling him to unhook her bra straps. He laid her back on the bed and returned his mouth to her chest, this time seeking out her large nipples with his mouth. Teasing, licking at first, then sucking and gently biting the tips. Her mouth dried as she cried out in pleasure, again and again. She felt his mouth leave her breasts and move down to her jeans. She arched as he unbuttoned

the jeans and slid them off her hips. Then she gasped again when he breathed on her mound. His tongue explored, tasting, bringing her to a quick climax. When she’d finished, he lifted his head up and smiled. “Wipe that grin off your face buster, it’s my turn.” With that she pushed him over onto his back and slipped off his jeans. He was fully erect, his shaft glistening in the dim light from the fake candles scattered around the room. She

started to climb on top but he held her back. “Time to sheath. Unless you want to really be my wife and bear my children. The men in my family are very lucky with procreation. Or unlucky, depending on your viewpoint.” He grinned and grabbed his jeans. He pulled out a foil packet and ripped it open, quickly covering his erection with the thin glistening plastic. She climbed over him, easing on top of him. Rocking slowly at

first, he reached up and gently covered her breasts with his hands, rocking her a little faster. As the pace quickened, she cried out as he reached her spot. Then she only remembered the feeling. And the release. She swore when she went over, he pulled her close to him and fell with her. Something she’d never experienced before, to climax at exactly the same time. To feel his explosion as she tightened and fell. Afterwards, spent, she lay next to Hunter on the bed. He traced her

jawline with his fingers, then her lips. He leaned forward, quickly kissed her, then got out of the bed. “Want a glass of champagne and strawberries while we recover in the hot tub?” “You are just full of good ideas, Mr. Martin.” Barb followed him, slipping into the steaming water. “You haven’t seen anything yet, Mrs. Martin.” Hunter flashed her a wicked smile as he filled their champagne flutes.

And as the night passed, he kept that promise. ••• Hunter woke the next morning to the five A.M. wakeup call from the front desk. Barb was nestled against him — spooning, they called it. He hung up the phone and fingered her wild red curls away from her face. She was magnificent. In bed, in life. He would be honored to have Barb Carico as his wife. Real or fake. Too bad she’d never go for it. Besides,

he had Kati to watch after. Who wanted a man with baggage? Barb deserved more than a confirmed bachelor raising his orphaned niece. She deserved everything. He kissed the top of her head and reluctantly slipped out of the heart shaped bed. Fantasy time was over. Real life was calling. And they had a plane to catch in two hours. “Barb, time to get ready. The shuttle will be leaving in thirty minutes,” he called out to her. “I’m

jumping in the shower. You can join me if you’d like.” Barb sat up, pulling the sheet over her ample breasts. “We’ll never make the shuttle if I do. Get showered. I want to get in there.” Hunter turned back from the bathroom door. Barb’s voice was cool — not cold, but definitely not warm. Maybe she regretted last night, thought it was a mistake. He knew last night had been far from a mistake. It just was a reality that couldn’t be. Not now. He needed to

lighten the mood since they had a two-hour flight to get through. “You sure — last chance?” A pillow hit the wall next to him. “Stop stalling and get in there. I want in the shower too.” She paused then added, “By myself.” “Your loss.” He stepped into the bathroom but left the door open just in case. He knew Barb wouldn’t join him. Hell, lightening had struck last night and he’d gotten lucky. Luck like that with a woman that special didn’t happen twice.

Turning on the shower spray, he stepped under the steaming water hoping to clear his head. Eight minutes later, he was out of the bathroom. With a towel wrapped around his waist, Hunter thought he caught Barb’s eyes drop to his abs. He sucked in automatically, even though his time at the gym had done the work he’d wanted. He knew he looked good, but for some stupid reason he wanted Barb to think that as well.

Barb sat at the edge of the bed in a long tee-shirt covering her amazing body, her clean clothes and a small toiletries bag on her lap. She waited for him to turn toward his suitcase, then the girl sprinted to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. Hunter smiled. He’d never seen Barb Carico flustered before. The woman was cool under pressure. The more pressure, the cooler she’d become. Right now she looked like

a scared rabbit — and he was the hawk, circling the sky over her. Humming, he got dressed and waited for his wife to get ready. When the front desk called to let them know the shuttle had arrived, he carried their luggage down to the lobby, Barb by his side. Just like any other married couple in the universe. Except this marriage would be annulled with a call to his lawyer tomorrow morning. At least Barb would have the cheap ring he’d bought her as a

souvenir. All he had was his memories. Memories that had convinced him, for a second, that he’d found his soul mate. And now he was letting her walk out of his life.

Chapter 6 Sitting on the back deck, drinking coffee with Lizzie, Barb watched the cottage where her mom slept. “Thanks again for taking us in for the week. I needed to get out of Boise. We won’t be a bother, I swear. I’ll do everything.” Lizzie rubbed her swollen belly. “I didn’t want to close the cabins but James is convinced the babies are coming any day. The doctor just

pushed out my due date, said he’d miscalculated at first, not knowing the boys were twins. Seriously? In this day and age?” “You look great.” Barb smiled. “I feel like an overstuffed teddy bear. But thanks.” Lizzie scanned her friend’s face. “So, you going to tell me?” Barb’s gaze jerked from the quiet cabin to Lizzie’s face. “I did. I’m putting mom into Countryside. Cassie’s getting her bedroom set up this week and when we go home,

she’s being admitted. What else did you want to know?” “I want to know what happened between you and Hunter Martin. Don’t get me wrong, I know James is ecstatic you may have pulled in the Martin Dairy as one of Jesse’s sponsors. He’d been working on the older Martin for years with no luck.” Lizzie sipped a glass of ice water, waiting for Barb to respond. Barb sat listening to the birds chirping in the tall pines surrounding the cabins. She could

hear the river bubbling through the channel, splashing on rocks. When the forest got quiet from people sounds, the other sounds came to the forefront. “Barb?” Lizzie’s gentle voice prodded. “He’s a potential sponsor, what more is there to tell?” “Bull crap. I know that look on your face. You had that look every time Ken Forest walked by your locker during sophomore year. Until Jesse started calling you Ken

and Barbie.” Lizzie adjusted in her rocker. “So what happened? How did Hunter get your attention so quickly?” “He’s just a nice guy.” “And … ” “And we kind of got married in Vegas.” Barb shook her head. “Now stop. Don’t even go there. It was a huge mistake and we were drunk.” “Oh my God. Did you consummate?” Lizzie leaned forward, grinning.

“No. I mean, kind of, but no.” Barb’s face flushed, she could feel the heat. “After the wedding, I was drunk so Hunter tucked me in bed and went back to his room. When he came with coffee and aspirin the next morning, Jesse was in my shower.” “Tell me you didn’t sleep with Jesse.” “No. Are you kidding? I’d have to be stupid drunk to do that. Yuck.” Barb took a sip of iced tea, avoiding

looking directly at Lizzie. The girl knew her weakness. “But … ” Sighing, Barb knew Lizzie wouldn’t give up, short of going into labor here and now. And judging from her gentle rocking, that wasn’t about to happen. “Fine. The next night in Denver, we had to share a room, and well, the hotel put us into the honeymoon suite because they got us mixed up with another couple who did get married in Vegas.”

Lizzie squinted. “You did get married in Vegas.” “Hunter’s having his lawyer take care of the legal bits. Soon, I’ll be back to being old maid Carico.” Barb twirled an ice cube in her drink. “You’re not an old maid, silly. And you’re trying to change the subject. What happened in the honeymoon suite?” Barb sat listening to the dumb birds twitter like she was in a Snow White cartoon. After a few seconds,

she answered her friend’s question with one word. “Magic.” Lizzie pushed herself to her feet, waving away Barb’s offer to help. “Where are you going?” Barb watched her friend waddle to the house, ignoring her question. Nature must be calling. This is what magic gets you, she mused, fat and uncomfortable. But in her heart, she knew she’d trade places with Liz any time. Instead of Hunter being her ex-

husband, he could be the father of her unborn children. The man she came home to. Home. Barb felt tears build in her eyes. Lizzie came back through the doorway with a bottle of Barb’s favorite wine. “James can handle JR and your mom for the evening. We’re having a girls’ night, even if I can only drink water.” “I don’t know. Mom can be a handful.” “Girl, you have so much on your plate right now, it’s time for

you to relax and tell me everything. You’ll feel better, you always do.” Lizzie had always been her rock. Even after JR had been born, Liz was the one Barb called when a date went bad. Or when she was making big decisions in her life. It was fitting that Barb would run to Lizzie today. Getting her mom away from the house while Cassie moved her furniture had been an excuse. She’d needed her friend. “Pour my glass to the top. We’ve got a lot to talk about.” Barb

accepted the rose-colored wine sparkling in the sunshine and looked down at the ring on her left hand. A placer ring she hadn’t been able to take off. A ring she didn’t want to take off. Being here was good. Mostly because Hunter Martin wasn’t here. Barb didn’t think she could stand to be next to him without reaching out to hold his hand or put her hand on his arm. Yep, hiding out in a rental cabin in the Idaho mountains was a

good thing. ••• Hunter pulled his truck into the driveway in front of his Eagle home. He’d bought the place after John and Rachel had died, wanting to keep Kati in the same school district and the same neighborhood. Hell, he even hired the same babysitter on the rare nights he had to leave her alone. The counselor he’d visited in the early days after the accident had told him to try to

keep her outside world as normal as possible. Maybe he’d gone a little overboard. He picked the morning paper off the walkway, opening the door into the three thousand square foot house that was way too big for him and Kati. He had a cleaning service come in weekly and they probably spent more time in some of the rooms than Hunter ever had. Bella skidded across the stone tile in the foyer to greet him.

“Hey, little girl.” He reached down to pick up the fluff ball. Bella had been Rachel’s dog before the marriage and had come with Kati. Hunter had felt a little foolish at first walking the toy Pomeranian around the neighborhood, but the dog had won his heart. He walked toward the living room. “Where’s Kati?” A voice called from the family room. “We’re in here.” His dad, John Carter Martin, sat on the sectional with Kati

cuddled next to him watching Sleeping Beauty. Hunter deposited Bella on the couch where she went to lay by Kati, then dropped into a recliner. He’d have to replace that movie disc soon, as often as Kati watched it. “How’d the trip go? Did Jesse win?” His dad spoke over Kati’s head. “Didn’t stay for the ride, so I can’t say.” John Carter frowned. “Vegas isn’t a two-day flight. What

happened?” Hunter sighed. “Long story. I took off Saturday after a few issues, then got stuck in Denver. Damn airlines anyway, I think all the planes are about ready to fall apart.” “Recession’s got everyone cutting back.” His dad grinned. “Except in their ice cream consumption. Our profits for that division have never been so high.” “Are we having ice cream?” Kati sat up straighter. “Can I have chocolate this time?”

Hunter shook his head. “I suppose your grandfather has let you eat ice cream all weekend. Did you even cook dinner?” “We went out. Not my fault the girl likes her ice cream.” John Carter stood, kissing Kati on the head. “Gotta go home and check on the stock.” Hunter walked his father out. “She do okay?” he asked when they were out of Kati’s earshot. “She was a little mopey until Saturday when we went to her

riding class. Man, that girl has taken to that horse like she was born to ride. She reminds me of John when he competed in high school.” John Carter slapped Hunter on the back. “You could have been as good as Jesse Sullivan if you’d stuck with riding.” “Been there, done that.” Hunter hadn’t loved bull riding. Not like John had loved bareback. He’d tolerated the rodeo weekends with his dad and brother, glad when he went off to college and out of the

corrals. “Thanks again for taking her this weekend. I needed the break.” “You can drop her off any time. I’m usually home.” John Carter looked back toward the living room. “Your mother always wanted a little girl. Too bad she didn’t make it to see Kati. She would have loved being a grandmother.” Hunter was quiet for a beat, remembering his mother. Barb’s face, worrying about losing her mother to a disease that took her

mind away long before the body left this world, flashed in his mind. Life was hard on all of them. “Yeah, she would have loved Kati.” “See you tomorrow at work? I’ve got a department’s head meeting scheduled to discuss Jesse’s sponsorship. Why don’t you invite that pretty Barb Carico to come?” Hunter shot a glance at his father. The man was fishing, he had to be. There was no way he’d found out that the pretty Barb Carico was

his new daughter-in-law, at least until the papers could be signed. He chose a non-committal answer. “I’m sure she’s booked. Kind of short notice. Besides, this way the department heads can talk candidly about the decision.” And maybe the department heads would talk his dad out of this crazy idea, and then he’d be able to completely get Barb Carico out of his life, if not out of his head. “A man could do worse, you know.”

Hunter watched his father climb into his quad cab truck and drive away without a look back. The old man was getting senile in his old age, that was all. Hunter scooped up Bella, who’d snuck out the front door, and went back into the house. “What do you say we order pizza for dinner?” Hunter walked back into the family room, dumping Bella onto the couch with Kati. “Pepperoni.” Kati opened her arms and the little dog climbed onto

her lap. She leaned her head against the arm of the couch. “Sleepy?” Hunter reached out and brushed Kati’s fine blonde hair out of her eyes. Frowning, he pressed his hand against her forehead. “You’re burning up.” “My throat hurts.” Kati touched her neck. “Why didn’t you tell Grampa this?” Hunter grabbed the list of emergency numbers he’d left out for his father. He dialed the doctor’s

office and immediately got placed on hold. “He would have made me go to bed. I wanted to go ride.” Kati looked up at him, her brown eyes pleading. “Don’t be mad at Gramps. I didn’t tell him.” “I’m not mad at anyone,” Hunter said, not meaning his words. Just then the receptionist came on the line. Soon, he was talking with the office nurse who walked him through taking Kati’s

temperature and figuring out what medicine she needed. “I’ll ask the doctor to call in the prescription to Rexall. They have a delivery guy. It’s pricey, but if you don’t want to drag her out tonight … ” The nurse paused, letting the information sink in. “Don’t worry about the money. I just want her to feel better.” Hunter thanked the nurse, then hung up and dialed a second number.

After ordering all of the supplies the nurse had listed out and a few coloring books and food supplies, Hunter hung up the phone and grabbed Kati. “My movie’s not over,” she grumbled. “You can watch it in your room. You’re getting in your jammies, then into bed where you will stay until you kick this bug out of your body.” Hunter whistled for Bella. “And your little dog, too.”

“That’s from the windy movie. The witch says that.” Kati laid her head on his shoulder. “You calling me an old evil witch?” Hunter’s heart ached when Kati relaxed into his arms. Maybe she was starting to trust him, just a little. Or at least trust that when he said he’d come back, he did. He would lay odds that part of the reason she hadn’t told his dad she felt sick was a compulsive need to be perfect. The world was going to smack her down for that, sooner

rather than later. Hunter just hoped he’d be there to pick up the pieces when she fell apart. “You can’t be a witch. You’re a boy.” Kati giggled. Tucking her into the bed, he popped in the movie, and went to the bathroom to pour her a glass of water. His cell rang. Looking at the number, he answered, “Hold on a sec.” He looked at Kati. “You stay right here and in bed. You need anything, you call me. Understand?”

Kati nodded, the circles under her eyes betraying how tired she was. Hunter doubted she’d be awake long enough to see Princess Aurora be taken away by her fairy godmothers. He kissed the top of her head and walked out the door. “Glad you got my message. You have everything drawn up?” Hunter went to the fridge and, bypassing the beer, grabbed a soda. “Don’t know what you’re talking about. You have real

problems here,” Chase Aaron, Hunter’s lawyer and best friend answered. “Do you know an Angel and Fred Monnet?” “Angel is, I mean was, Rachel’s sister. Fred’s her husband. Why?” Hunter’s chest hurt. This couldn’t be good. If Kati lost more people close to her, he didn’t know what the kid would do. Probably grow up to be a serial killer. “They’re suing you for custody of Kati.”

Hunter stopped breathing. “I don’t understand. They have a kid. Why would they want Kati?” Papers rustled on the other end. “Hold on, let me read this to you. Here it is. The plaintiffs believe that they can provide the minor in question a full and happy life, with a loving mother and father as well as siblings. The child would want for nothing.” “Of course not, since they’d have control over Kati’s trust fund. That’s the only reason they want

her. When I talked to them at the funeral, Angel was clear. She didn’t have the time or energy for Kati. But now that the will’s been read and they’ve found out Kati’s a minimillionaire, suddenly they have time?” Hunter’s voice raised. “They’re not getting her, no matter what.” “We can fight it. But the court likes placing children in stable family homes. You know, married couples?” Chase paused. “Don’t worry. I’m good at my job. I’ll do

my best so Kati stays with you. No promises, but we can hope. So what did you call me about?” Hunter thought about Barb. About their crazy impromptu marriage. Had it been a sign? A way to get the hard stuff done easy, like finding someone and falling in love? He needed to stay married. To convince Barb to put up a wall and become the wife and mother he imagined she could be. At least until the custody hearing was over. And Kati was safe. He’d promise

Barb anything. He just wished he knew what exactly to offer, because losing wasn’t an option. The doorbell rang. “I’ll catch up with you tomorrow. Kati’s sick and someone’s at the door.” “Okay then. But Hunter? You need to tell someone, so it might as well be your attorney. So we will finish this talk. Right?” “We’ll talk later. Gotta run.” Hunter clicked off the phone, sitting it on a small table next to the

door. A perfect place for keys, so you wouldn’t forget where you put them after a hard day at work or night at play. Now it held Kati’s book bag and permission slips for school. Man, his life had changed. He signed for the pharmacy delivery and took the bag into the kitchen to unpack. Then he went back to Kati’s room, hoping sevenyear-olds knew how to take medicine. Because if he had to trick her, he was clueless.

Convincing women to do things he wanted, that had been his specialty when he’d been Boise’s most eligible bachelor. Why now did that seem to be the one thing he didn’t know how to do? He paused outside Kati’s door. Her aunt might have all the trappings of a real family for her, but Hunter knew the truth. Kati would be a side thought in that household, only there because she came with a trust fund to help pay

the bills. No way would he let that happen. No matter what he had to do.

Chapter 7 “What do you mean you haven’t started the paperwork?” Barb’s stomach knotted. She’d been called to an emergency meeting at Martin Dairy’s headquarters about the sponsorship late Tuesday night. She’d had to call Cassie to drive up to Shawnee to stay with her mom. And then the meeting had been canceled because Hunter was unavailable?

Now she stood on his doorstep, demanding answers. Including why she hadn’t been served with the annulment papers yet. She had to admit, the man looked like crap. His eyes were bloodshot and his cheeks bright red. “Are you sick?” “What do you think?” he grumbled, then stumbled. “I think you should go lie down.” Barb pushed him out of the doorway. “Why are you even standing?”

Hunter shook his head. “I didn’t want my dad to get sick too. I have to take care of Kati. I’m making soup for lunch.” “No, you are going to get in bed.” Barb sat her purse on the small table next to a Dora backpack. “There are so many responses I could give you, but frankly my dear, I don’t give a crap.” Hunter put up his hands and walked away. “I surrender. Just don’t let the soup burn.”

“I can cook, you know.” Barb called after him. Well, she could kind of cook. Heating up canned soup wouldn’t be an issue. She turned right down the hallway and found a cozy dining room — a long oak table with solid chairs sitting under a modern chandelier. Not what she’d expected at all. “I wonder which girlfriend decorated this place?” Having found the kitchen, which was gourmet quality with solid steel appliances and deep

walnut cabinets, she found the gently bubbling pot of chicken pasta soup. She found spoons and took a quick taste. Not bad. The soup didn’t look like it was from a can, but she doubted Hunter had thrown this together today, especially in his condition. The man could barely walk. She found two trays and set a bowl of soup, a glass of juice, buttered bread, and a few crackers on each one. Checking the fridge, she found plastic cups of Jell-O to

add to the trays. Then she grabbed one tray and went in search of Kati. The little girl’s bedroom was a few doors down from the kitchen. Barb knew it was Kati’s since her name was on a plaque in the middle of the door. Barb gently knocked then eased into the room. A canopied bed sat in the middle of a huge room. The girl had a serious stuffed animal addiction. A hammock had been hung near the window filled to the brim with the fluffy toys.

A small, tan dog stood at the end of the bed and growled. “Bella, no.” A blonde girl sat up in bed, patting the covers next to her. The dog responded, but kept watching Barb. “Are you a babysitter?” Barb moved closer to the bed and put the tray over Kati’s legs. “I’m a friend of your uncle’s. He’s not feeling well so I’m going to stay for a little bit.” “I made him sick.” Kati sank into her pillows. “I brought this

crud home from school and gave it to Uncle Hunter. “No one makes anyone else sick on purpose. It just happens.” Barb straightened the pillows around the little girl. She was way too thin. JR was at least a year younger and probably double this girl’s size. “You need to eat. Do you want something else?” Kati shook her head. “This is fine.” She picked up her spoon and took a sip of the soup. Her eyes widened and she dropped the

spoon. “I forgot. Thank you for bringing me food.” “You are most welcome. But you need to eat. Thanking me isn’t going to get some meat on your bones. And if you don’t eat, you won’t get better.” Barb brushed a lock of wayward hair out of Kati’s eyes. “Then I’ll go to heaven with my mommy and daddy.” The pain in Kati’s eyes broke Barb’s heart. “And your uncle and grandpa would be very sad. So

instead, we’re going to eat and get better, right?” A slight smile crossed Kati’s face. “I’ll try.” “I’ll tell you what, after I deliver your uncle’s tray, I’m going back into that kitchen and making brownies.” Barb sat down on the edge of the bed. “Do you like brownies?” Kati nodded. “My mom and I used to make them every Sunday.” “Well, I’m not sure I can make them as good as your mom did, but

I’ll do my best.” Barb handed Kati her spoon back. “Now get eating before your soup gets cold.” Barb sat and watched the little girl for a few seconds, and watched the dog watching Kati eat too. She’d check out the kitchen and make sure the dog food bowl was filled before she left too. Who knows how long Hunter had been out of it. “I’ll be back later.” Barb walked to the door. “Tell Uncle Hunter I hope he feels better soon,” Kati called out.

No doubt about it, the kid was a charmer. Barb smiled as she headed back to the kitchen for Hunter’s lunch. Hunter was already asleep when Barb slipped into his room. This room looked like Hunter. Deep green bedspread that matched his drapes, mahogany furniture, and large in-suite bathroom to the side. Definitely designed by someone, not Hunter. She sat the tray of food on the nightstand and covered him with

the bedspread, once again struck by how handsome the man was, even without that killer smile. No, living with this Adonis for the rest of her life wouldn’t be that much of a hardship. Her thoughts traveled back to their night together and she smiled. Too bad their marriage was just a fairy tale — as soon as Hunter got better, the dream would be over in one fell swoop of the pen. Barb turned off the lights and walked back into the kitchen to grab her cell. “Hey, Lizzie, I’m staying in

town for a couple days.” She paused, listening to the other end. “I’ll call the home right now. What exactly did he say?” As she listened, her heart sank. Jerry Jones, the manager of the Countryside home had called to make payment arrangements. And according to what he’d told Lizzie, putting a lien off her mother’s house was off the table. Barb would have to guarantee her mother’s stay with some other form of collateral.

She ended the conversation with Lizzie after refusing to get James and the business involved. “You guys have too much on your plate as it is, you don’t need to be getting into debt for me.” Hanging up the phone, she called and basically had the same conversation with Mr. Jones. Except she got a month reprieve. If she could come up with the down payment by the end of the month, her mom would be allowed to stay. If not, well, he was sorry, but they’d

lost too much money using homes in the sinking real estate market as collateral lately. It wasn’t personal. Barb hung up the phone and started pulling out supplies to make the brownies. Hell yeah, it was personal. They’d had an agreement. Sure, she’d never signed papers, but still. Barb focused on the comforting routine of baking, something Lizzie’s mom had taught the girls every winter Saturday when they couldn’t take the horses out. Barb

had loved spending time with Lizzie and her mom. Lizzie’s home was so different from Barb’s. Lizzie’s was warm and friendly. Barb’s perfect and untouchable. Checking the cabinets and fridge, Barb got a chicken ready to roast, peeled potatoes for mashing, and made a fresh garden salad. Hunter must have a standing delivery order from the local grocer because the fridge was bursting to the seams with food. Barb thought of her tiny condo kitchen back in

San Francisco and how little time she spent there. This kitchen she could spend days in. Maybe even bake her own bread. When the brownies were cooling on the granite countertop, she turned on the teakettle to heat up water and when to check on Kati. The little girl was sound asleep and her food gone. Bella opened her eyes and yawned as Barb took the tray away. “You help her finish her soup?”

The dog had the good graces to look guilty as she followed Barb out to the kitchen. There was a dog door in the back door and Bella slipped out. Barb watched her wander the backyard, sniffing at the dollhouse near the garden, slipping through the swing set on the lawn and then walking around the fenced pool until she disappeared behind what appeared to be a small pool shed. The kid wanted for nothing, unless you counted her parents.

Barb rinsed the dishes, placed them into the dishwasher, and went to peek in on Hunter. The man had eaten his soup but the rest of the food still sat on his tray. She decided not to venture back into his bedroom, that way her fingers wouldn’t be tempted to curl through his hair or touch his bare chest. No, she should just stay away from the bedroom. Barb finished getting dinner going in the kitchen and, having nothing else to do while the chicken

baked and the potatoes cooked, she went to find a book to read while she waited. Two hours later, she sat curled up on the sofa, deep into a mystery that she’d found on Hunter’s wellstocked bookshelves. “Something smells amazing.” Hunter’s voice surprised her. Glancing up, she saw he’d showered and dressed, the color returned to his face. “You look better.” She held the book up. “I hope you don’t mind,

I’ve been meaning to get this, but kept missing the bookstore when I got into town. And the airport stores only carry the bestsellers.” “I read everything he writes.” Hunter slipped onto the couch next to her. “The clerk over at Little Town Bookstore calls my office when he releases a new book.” “I met him once.” The look on Hunter’s face made her giggle. “Get out of here.” “Seriously. I was waiting for a flight out of San Francisco to South

Dakota, I think. Or at least that was my ultimate destination. I changed planes three times that flight.” Barb put a bookmark in the book and sat it on the coffee table. “I was reading one of his books and he sat next to me. He held out a pen and asked if I wanted him to sign.” “And did he?” Barb smiled. “He did. He signed his name and cell number for the next time I was in New York.” Hunter leaned his head back on the couch. “Some pick up line. Hi,

I’m a world famous multi-published author. Call me sometime.” “I bet it works for him.” Hunter stared at her, hunger in his eyes. “Did it?” “I never got to New York.” “You could still go,” he pressed. “I think I lost the book.” “That’s good to know.” Hunter squinted at her. “Why exactly are you here?” “Gratitude isn’t one of your strong points, is it?” Barb leaned over and put her hand on his

forehead. “You’re still running a fever. Did you take something?” “Not that I remember.” Hunter sat up straight. “Kati’s sick. I’ve got to check on her.” Barb put a hand on his arm. “She’s fine. Last time I checked on her, she was asleep. Her fever’s broken and now she’s just resting. The poor kid’s pretty skinny. Does she eat at all?” Hunter’s head returned to the back of the couch. “Not much. A lot

of ice cream. I can get her to eat ice cream.” “Well, she ate the bowl of soup, the bread, and the Jell-O for lunch. Although I think Bella ate most the bread.” Hunter’s eyes opened. “How’d you get her to eat?” “I promised brownies. I guess she likes them better than ice cream.” Barb stood up. “Dinner’s ready. Do you want to eat at the table or in here?”

“Table’s fine. I don’t let Kati eat in front of the television. I guess I should follow my own rules.” Hunter started to stand. “You want me to get her?” “Let her sleep. She’ll come out when she wakes up.” Barb pulled him to his feet. “Dining room or kitchen table?” “Kitchen, definitely.” He pulled her toward him and they both fell backwards into the couch. His gaze was smoldering. “Or right here.”

“We’re not going there again.” Barb’s heart raced. She couldn’t believe how their bodies fit together, even right now. “Married people do.” Barb pulled away from him and stood next to the couch. “That’s just it, we’re not married.” “We are in the eyes of the good people of the state of Nevada.” “It was a mistake.” Barb thought she saw Hunter flinch at that comment. “I mean, we didn’t

plan on getting married. It was a spur of the moment thing.” Hunter stood and walked unsteadily toward the kitchen. “No one plans on falling in love, Barb.” She felt like she was rooted to the ground. Falling in love? He couldn’t be in love with her. They’d just met. The man was running a fever. Delirious. Barb followed Hunter into the kitchen and started putting the food on serving dishes. Hunter was setting the table for three. They

worked together, silently, like they’d been doing the same routine for years. When they finally sat, Hunter carved the chicken and looked at her. “White or dark?” “White, please.” She held her breath as he laid a slice of chicken on her plate. This was too comfortable. Too much like watching Lizzie and James together after a year. The only thing missing was JR. As if Barb’s thoughts about a missing child had called her, Kati shuffled into the room.

“Hey, pumpkin. Come eat dinner with us.” And she did. Kati chatted away the rest of the dinner, allowing Barb to focus on something else besides the picture-perfect scene in front of her. A life she craved. After Kati had left the table with Bella at her heels to get ready for bed, Hunter glanced up at her. The fatigue in his face frightened her and she made a quick decision.

“Hey, by the time I get this kitchen cleaned up and the food put away it will be kind of late. Do you mind if I crash on your couch?” Barb took her plate to the sink. “You don’t have to, you know.” “Lizzie’s mom said you make the mess, you clean the mess.” Barb chuckled. “My mom always said order Chinese.” “I didn’t mean the dishes. You don’t have to sleep on the couch.” Hunter stood behind her, his and Kati’s plates in his hand.

A shiver ran up Barb’s spine. She could feel the heat of his body and was afraid to turn around. Afraid he’d kiss her if she did. Terrified she’d kiss him. When he didn’t say anything else, she finally turned. He was back at the table. “I think it would be better … ” “I have a guest room, you know.” He picked a piece of meat off the chicken platter. “This is good. I never can get the skin this crunchy.”

Barb took the mashed potatoes and scraped them into a plastic storage container. “Believe me, it took a lot of trial and error. I’m working my way through the Betty Crocker cookbook, one page at a time.” “You’d never know it.” Hunter wiped the now empty table with a hot, soapy rag. “Kati and I appreciate dinner and all, but I can handle it from here.” His eyes told a different story. Barb shrugged. “I guess I’m calling

marital privilege then. I don’t want to drive up to Shawnee tonight so I’m staying over. Besides, we have some business to discuss tomorrow and I have to finish getting mom signed into Countryside.” “I just don’t want you thinking I need you here or something.” Hunter’s voice faded. The man was almost asleep on his feet. “Don’t worry, big man. I know you don’t need me.” Barb nodded to the hallway. “Now you go get in bed before you pass out and I have to

cover you up with a blanket on the kitchen floor.” Hunter grinned, but nodded. “I’ll talk to you in the morning.” She turned the faucet on in the sink. “Barb?” Turning around she saw him leaning against the doorway. “You okay?” She put her hand back on the faucet handle, ready to go help. “I’m fine. I wanted to tell you thanks. Today, dinner, Kati, thanks

for everything.” Hunter turned and disappeared down the hallway. Barb shook her head and started rinsing dishes to put into the dishwasher, pretending for a moment that this was her kitchen and the man and child in the other room were her family. Pretending until tomorrow.

Chapter 8 When Hunter shuffled into the kitchen to make coffee, he was surprised by three things. The coffee was already made. A basket of fresh baked banana nut muffins sat on the counter. And Barb Carico sat at the kitchen table in his old BSU tee shirt and jean shorts. The woman took his breath away whether she was dressed up and sporting those do-me pumps or in

grubbies and barefoot. It didn’t matter. He knew he had it bad. The fact she could cook and Kati liked her just made everything worse. He poured his coffee and slipped into a chair next to her. “Working?” Barb leaned back in her chair, tossing her pen next to her laptop. “Dreaming.” Hunter frowned. “You want to explain?” Barb got up and refilled her cup. “Let’s just say my financial net

worth isn’t where I need it to be to get the loan I need. The drop in the housing market has put a kink in my plans.” “You buying or selling?” For the first time in days, Hunter’s head felt clear. He broke open the muffin he’d grabbed and spread butter on the still-warm insides. “Neither. Just need to leverage some assets. Although I may be selling an upscale condo in San Francisco to pay mom’s deposit into

the facility. You know anyone in the market?” “If you sell, where would you live?” The muffin melted in his mouth. The woman was magic with food. Her brownies last night had rivaled the ones he purchased in the neighborhood bakery down the street. Barb rolled her eyes. “I guess at my mom’s. I hate to sell her house until the market stabilizes. And, this will sound stupid, but what if she gets better? Better enough to

come home and I’ve sold the house? She’d never forgive me.” “Moving from the big city home would be quite a culture change.” Hunter knew about changing plans for family. Look at his new family friendly life. He’d never imagined he’d be a father figure so soon. “I’ve been planning on moving home to be closer to Mom for a while. This situation just moves up my timetable.” Barb nodded at the muffins. “You like?”

“Amazing. You stay here much longer and Kati won’t be the only one putting on some weight.” He nodded toward her bedroom. “She still asleep?” “Actually, no, she’s dressed and out in the back with Bella. I can’t believe how fast she bounced back from yesterday. I told her you needed to make the decision if she was going back to school tomorrow or not.” Barb sipped on her coffee. “She adores you.”

“I’m not quite sure about that, but we’re making progress. When she first got here, she didn’t say more than three words a day. And two of them were ‘thank you’ when I gave her anything.” “Yeah, she did that with me yesterday. But we got past it.” Barb smiled. “She’s a good kid.” “Thanks.” Hunter didn’t meet Barb’s gaze. “Look, about us … I have a proposition to make you.” The doorbell rang, interrupting

Hunter. “We need to talk. Hold on and I’ll get rid of whoever this is.” He walked to the front door and glanced out the side window. Groaning, he opened the door. “What do you want?” “Now, is that any way to greet family?” Angel Monnet pushed past him into the large entryway. “Where’s my niece? I stopped by her school and they said she was sick?” “Why were you at the school? If you want to see her, you can call

me and we’ll set up a time.” Hunter shut the door; obviously inviting her in wasn’t necessary. Angel sat her purse on the entry table. “So, your lawyer’s been busy, telling you our plans. You know Fred and I can give that little girl a real home. Not just an empty shell house like this.” Angel sniffed the air. “You made coffee. Yes, I’d love a cup.” She marched to the kitchen, her stiletto heels clicking on the

wood floor. Crap. He sprinted to get in front of her but he was too late. “Oh, my. Who are you?” Angel’s voice was gleeful and Hunter could just hear the tearful testimony about how she’d found a woman, a harlot, in his house at eight in the morning. Hunter went over to the table and put his hand on Barb’s back. “Barb, I’d like you to meet Angel Monnet, Kati’s aunt. Angel, this is my wife, Barb.”

He could feel her back muscles tighten as she heard his words. “Wife?” Angel almost spit out the word. “When did you get a wife? Not that it will matter in the court case. Especially since she looks like you picked her up in one of those dive bars you like to frequent.” Hunter saw Barb’s lips thin. Angel was in trouble. And he’d put his money on Barb in a fight between the two women. “I’d say it’s nice to meet you Angel but my mama told me liars go

to hell.” Barb stood up and put her arm around Hunter. “I’m sorry we weren’t dressed more to your standards but you did barge in on us unexpected and uninvited.” Anger bubbled out in Angel’s demeanor and her inability to stand still. “I suppose you got married to look like a family?” Barb shook her head. “I don’t know what kind of family you have, but where I come from, marriage is a sacred vow, not something entered into lightly, or for

appearances sake. Did you marry your husband for his security or his money?” “Why, you little … ” Angel took a step forward, but Hunter blocked her by stepping in front of Barb. Yes, he’d definitely take Barb in this fight any day. “As you can see, we’re not ready for visitors. Kati’s been sick but she’s feeling better. If you’d like, you can meet her for ice cream after her riding lessons on Saturday. Your treat, obviously.”

Angel looked at Barb and Hunter. “This isn’t going to change anything.” She headed back to the entryway. “Tell Kati we’ll pick her up at four.” “We’ll meet you at the Ice Cream Palace at three thirty,” Barb called back. When the door slammed, Barb turned to Hunter. “No way that woman is taking Kati anywhere. Who knows if you’d get her back?” “You seemed to hold your own with her.” Hunter went to the

window to watch Angel climb into her two-seat convertible. Nothing soccer mom about her. And Angel’s choice of vehicle confirmed his worse fears. They wanted Kati for the money. Of course, if he brought up the car during the trial, they’d weasel out of it somehow. Like her minivan had been in the shop and this was a loaner car. Walking back into the kitchen, he sat down at the table and ran his hands through his hair. When he

looked up, Barb was watching him. “I need a favor.” Understanding filled Barb’s eyes. “So this is why we got married in Vegas? So you could have a trophy wife for the court case?” “No.” He wouldn’t have Barb thinking this had been planned from the beginning. “I didn’t know Angel and her husband had even filed for custody until we got back. Ask my lawyer, he’ll tell you.” Barb cocked her head and considered him. “As I see it, you

need my services as your wife slash stand-in mother to Kati until that witch goes away.” “That’s about the size of it.” Hunter leaned forward and took her hand. “Look, I know it’s an inconvenience. And I know I said I’d take care of this when we got back. But Kati can’t go live with Cruella. She just can’t. I’ll do anything.” Barb’s eyes darted to the notebook she’d been writing in when he came into the room. “I

need something too. But that’s all this is, a business arrangement. No extras like what happened Sunday night.” “I promise. Although I may have to kiss you in front of other people. And touch you.” Hunter thought about slipping his arm around her waist. God, even now, just the thought made him hot. But he could curb his libido to save Kati. The kid had been through enough. “You don’t know what I’m asking for yet. It might be a deal

breaker.” Barb waited for his answer, but Hunter remained quiet. “I need you to put up the money for Mom’s deposit into Countryside. I’ll pay you back every penny out of the estate. And if that doesn’t cover it, you’ll get monthly checks from me until the debt is paid.” “I’ll have my accountant send a check this morning. Give me the details.” Hunter broke open another muffin. “That’s all you’re going to ask? Where to send the money?”

“No, actually, I was going to ask you if you need some money to go shopping for clothes. Kati wasn’t too happy the last time I took her. I thought the outfits were cute. You must be running out of clothes too since your closet is in California and you’re stuck here.” He pulled out his wallet and threw a card at her. “I’ll set up a household account with your name on it so you can play the part of Mrs. Martin.” “I haven’t said yes yet.” Barb didn’t reach for the credit card on

the table. Hunter got up and kissed her on the top of her head. “Yes, you did. Saturday night in front of God and Elvis. That’s binding, you know.” He walked out of the kitchen. “I’m going into the office and getting Jesse’s sponsorship papers finished up. It’s the least I can do for the new Mrs. Martin.” “Stop calling me that,” Barb called after him.

Hunter chuckled as he walked down the hall to his bedroom. Having Barb here for the next few weeks would be fun. And being married should put him even with the Monnets, at least in the court’s eyes. Getting married in Vegas was the best mistake he’d ever made. ••• Barb fingered the credit card Hunter had left. She did need some clothes. She’d had to resort to

grabbing something of his out of the dryer this morning just so she’d have a clean shirt to wear with her shorts. She did have a clean sundress in her suitcase, but no way would she look like Betty Freaking Crocker making muffins in his kitchen when he woke up. But Kati was off school for the day and they were heading out for a shopping day. Kati was in for a treat. Lorraine Carico may not have been a great mom in the kitchen, but the woman could shop. And

Barb had learned a lot about fashion and accessories under her mom’s guidance. Barb shut down the computer, wrote down the Countryside administrator’s name and phone number on a piece of paper for Hunter, grabbed the credit card, and went in search of Kati. Two hours later, Kati looked like she wished she’d gone to school. Barb smiled and aimed the pair to her favorite restaurant in the mall, Cheesecake Heaven. “Let’s

grab some lunch. Then we’ll stop by the car and drop this stuff off before we hit the last few stores.” “I don’t need any more clothes.” Kati’s voice was a perfect whine. “All I do is go to school anyway, why do I need anything else?” “You need new boots and some riding gear. I saw what you had in your closet. And those boots look like they were made for fashion cowgirl Barbie, not a real rider.”

Barb shook her head. “Who bought you those?” “Aunt Angel.” Kati struggled with the bags she carried. Barb reached over her and took the slipping bag filled with the cute jeans and tees they’d found in the preteen store. Who knew shopping with a seven-year-old could be so much fun? Now if the kid would wear the stuff. “Figures. I met your aunt today. I don’t think she’s ever been on a horse.”

The hostess seated them in a booth large enough for them and their packages. After they’d ordered iced tea and lemonade, Barb leaned back and sighed. “My mom was an amazing shopper. Every year before school started, she’d take me and Lizzie to Boise for the weekend. We went to every store in town — or at least it felt that way.” “Is your mom dead?” The bluntness of the question floored Barb. “No, honey, she’s alive. She’s just losing her memory.

I’m putting her into an assisted living center next week. Do you know what that is?” “An old folks home? Gramps says he’d rather die than be put into one of those things.” Barb smiled. She’d met the older Mr. Martin and he was a long way away from needing any kind of care, unless he found a new wife to coddle him. Barb was sure he wouldn’t mind that. “Your grandfather doesn’t have the same disease as my mom does.”

“So she’s not just old?” “It’s called Alzheimer’s. Sometimes young people get it too. They don’t know why some people get the disease and others don’t.” “If we visit her, I won’t get the germs, right?” Kati studied her menu. “It’s not contagious. So, no, you wouldn’t get the germs.” Barb ordered fish and chips and was surprised when Kati ordered the same. “You want some nachos to snack on?”

Kati nodded and the waitress grinned. “I’ll be right back with those.” Barb watched the little girl drinking her lemonade. “Would you like to meet my mother? I don’t know if she’d remember you after the first time, but we can try.” Kati nodded. “I’d like that. Both my grammas were dead before I was born so I never had a grandmother.” Barb jolted every time Kati used the word dead. Not passed, not

in heaven. Just flat out dead. The kid had a few issues, that was certain. But maybe her matter of fact attitude was a better way to deal with the loss of her parents than just pretending. Growing up with the motherless Sullivan boys in Shawnee, Barb knew kids built up defenses. Jesse had been the one as a kid to make up stories on where his mom was and why she wasn’t with them. When he’d found out about the witness protection

program, the kid had been convinced that was why Angie had left them. She’d witnessed something horrible and had been swept away to testify and live her life away from her two sons. James never crushed his younger brother’s dreams, not once, at least where their mother was concerned. And Jesse had been right in a way, their mother had returned, although it wasn’t until years later. James was still working on

incorporating Angie back into his life. But Kati’s folks weren’t living the dream in Vegas or in witness protection. They were dead. And Kati was dealing with it the best she could. Barb wondered if Hunter had considered counseling. “Aunt Angel and my mom never rode horses. Aunt Angel’s afraid of them. But she said if I come live with her, I could still visit the stables to ride.”

“Do you want to live with your aunt?” Barb asked, unsure she wanted to hear the answer. She could already tell that losing Kati would break Hunter’s heart. “She says that Uncle Hunter is giving up his life for me and I shouldn’t be selfish.” The waitress brought their nachos and Barb waited for the girl to leave before responding. Besides, telling Kati her aunt was a scheming, money hungry liar probably wasn’t the best response.

She picked up a chip filled with sour cream, salsa, and cheese, and took a bite. Kati mirrored her. “I love these things.” Kati took a second chip. It was good to see the kid eat. Barb took a deep breath and dived into the conversation. “Your uncle loves you and he’s not the type of man to do anything he doesn’t want to do.” Except stay married to me, Barb added silently. “So don’t think

about what’s good for Hunter. Where do you want to live?” Kati’s eyes filled with tears, a reaction Barb hadn’t counted on. Crap, maybe she did want to go live with Angel and the family. Having kids around to play with wouldn’t be a bad life. Barb’s words didn’t even convince herself. Finally, Kati spoke. “I want to live with Uncle Hunter.” Barb patted the little girl’s hand. “Then I’m going to do

everything I can to make that happen.” They sat without talking for a while, both focusing on the nachos in the middle of the table. When that plate was empty, the waitress brought their fish and chips. Kati poured ketchup on her plate for her French fries. “So, do you ride?” Barb laughed, and used a fry as a pointer. “You’re looking at the Shawnee Rodeo Queen from my freshman and senior year of high

school. First runner-up the other two years when they gave it to Lizzie.” “You were a rodeo queen? So what, you rode in parades?” “There’s more to being named queen than looking pretty on a horse, I’ll have you know.” Barb fake punched Kati, making her giggle. “Lizzie and I barrel raced.” Kati’s eyes widened. “Wow. Can you teach me?” “Not with the boots you have. I can’t believe your instructor is

letting you ride in those.” Kati glanced around the crowded dining room. “Don’t tell, but she has a pair at the stables I change into when I get there. She said Aunt Angel must not know diddly about horses.” “I think I agree with your trainer. Can I take you to your lesson Saturday?” Barb had already cleared her schedule for the weekend. Cassie was bringing her mom down from Shawnee on

Friday and Barb would be focused on getting her settled. The bull riders she managed were going to have to attend the Montana Rapids Rodeo alone this weekend. She was sure some of them were glad not to have her watchful eye for a few days. She’d warned the guys if she got a call from the jail, they would have to cool their heels there until either she or James could get a flight in. “I don’t know, Claire says she likes it when Uncle Hunter comes

with me.” Kati studied her. “Are you his new girlfriend?” And the plan turned sour right there. Neither Hunter nor Barb had thought about Kati. She couldn’t just pop into her life like an interchangeable Lego person. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea. But then a vision of her mom in the hospital bed flooded her mind. This had to work. She needed Hunter’s financial backing to keep her mom safe, no matter what the consequences. And if she had to

stay fake married to Hunter longer for Kati’s sake, she guessed she could do that. “In a way.” Barb didn’t look up from her fish and chips. This might not be the perfect time to tell Kati, but she was boxed into a corner. “Your uncle and I got married in Vegas last weekend.” When no response came from the other side of the table, Barb finally looked up. Kati grinned at her. “I knew it. I asked in my prayers for Uncle Hunter to find a

wife. Grampa says all you have to do is ask for what you want, and it worked.” “I don’t know if it’s that simple,” Barb backpedaled. The waters were getting deep. Now they were talking about religion and Barb didn’t even know what church Hunter took Kati to or if they even attended. She hadn’t been in a church for years, not since she’d left Shawnee. “So you’re my aunt too?” Kati wasn’t slowing down.

“I guess I am.” “Good, cuz Aunt Angel scares me sometimes. I don’t know, Mommy said she was a gold digger, but when I asked Aunt Angel if she’d found any gold lately, she didn’t know what I was talking about. Besides, I don’t think she could be digging for gold, her nails are too pretty.” Kati swung her legs back and forth. Barb suppressed a smile. Leave it to a kid to break things down to

what matters. “Your mommy was probably being funny.” Kati shook her head. “I don’t think so. She was mad and yelling at Aunt Angel when she came to visit. I was supposed to be in my room, but I needed a drink. Then Mommy told her to leave and not come back.” “That must have been scary.” Barb knew she’d hated it when her mom and her latest boyfriend would argue, their heated words waking her up in the middle of the

night. She hadn’t understood the words, but she’d understood the tone. And then the man would disappear out of their lives. Maybe not the next day, but eventually. “A little. But I went right back into my room and told Bella it would be all right.” Kati cocked her head to the left. “I think she was more scared than me because she was shaking all over.” Finally, a lifeline to change the conversation. Barb grabbed at it. “So you’ve had Bella a while.”

Kati nodded. “She’s ten. That’s old for a dog. She was mommy’s baby before I was born.” “She seems like a good dog.” “Do you have a dog?” “No.” Barb sipped her iced tea. “Why?” “When you move in, your dog might not like Bella. I was worried.” Kati frowned. “Do you like dogs? Are you going to make Bella go to the pound?” “God, no. Why would I do that?”

Kati shook her head. “Tony said Aunt Angel told Uncle Fred that as soon as I moved in with them, Bella was going to the pound. That she wasn’t going to have me and a dirty little dog in her house.” Anger bubbled up in Barb’s stomach and she pushed the rest of the fish and chips to the side. “Who’s Tony?” “He’s my cousin.” Kati looked around the restaurant, lowering her voice. “He says he can drink all the beer he wants to as long as he

doesn’t tell anyone. Kids in grade school aren’t supposed to drink beer. That’s a law.” No way Kati was even ever going to visit this crazy aunt and her messed-up family. Not if Barb had anything to say about the decision. She nodded to Kati’s almost empty plate. “You ready for some more shopping?” “Can I get a hat?” Kati’s eyes gleamed. “Of course. What kind of a cowgirl would you be without a

good hat?” As they gathered up their packages, Barb took the bill up to the cashier. “Your little girl is so cute. And she looks just like you.” The man beamed at Kati. “Did you enjoy your lunch?” “Yes, sir.” Kati took the sucker the man offered and smiled up at Barb. Neither one corrected the man on their tenuous relationship. And for once, Barb didn’t want to.

So this was what it felt like to have a daughter. To have a family. The bull rider crew would be laughing their butts off if they saw her right now. Playing the part of a mother and a wife. But that’s all it was, Barb reminded herself. This wasn’t real, it was pretend. Maybe her heart couldn’t tell the difference.

Chapter 9 “Got a call from Angel Monnet yesterday afternoon.” Chase Aaron sat in the leather visitor chair in Hunter’s office. The power office gleamed with leather and chrome — the trappings made Hunter nervous, like he was playing in someone else’s world. When Hunter had been in the field, he’d run his business stuff out of his truck and a room in his old

house he’d called the study. Now, he’d moved into a big shiny office, bought a house to match his new title, and was raising a seven-yearold. In less than a year. “She mad?” Hunter chuckled. Angel had left skid marks on the road outside his house she’d taken off so fast. “Let’s say concerned. So I take it this wife of yours is the one you left a message about getting an annulment from? You’ve changed your mind?” Chase crossed his leg

over his knee, his tailored black suit and peach shirt making him look less like a lawyer and more like a fashion designer. “We’ve come to an understanding.” Hunter shrugged. “Eventually, we’ll divorce but for right now, we’re a happy home. At least where Angel’s concerned.” Chase shook his head. “I think you’re playing with fire here. What do you know about this woman? If you were going to pick a wife off the street, you should have gone

shopping at the church. There’re lots of desperate women there with no baggage who would have jumped at the chance to be Mrs. Hunter Martin.” “Barb gets it. She knows this is for Kati, not us. Besides, I didn’t plan on marrying her — or anyone. That kind of just happened.” Hunter tapped his pen on the desk. “We’ll sort the marriage thing out when I know Kati’s safe.” “And what if she just happens to get pregnant? Have you thought

about that? Then you’ll be stuck with alimony and child support until the kid turns eighteen. Not all women are honest about using protection.” “We’re not having sex. And if we were, I know how to protect myself just fine. You haven’t had to bail me out of any child support issues before, why are you worried now?” Hunter stood and walked to the bank of windows overlooking the Boise River and the foothills.

Yes, the prior manager knew his stuff when it came to appearances. “Did you know she was married before?” Chase’s words jerked him away from the peaceful scene outside the window. “What are you talking about?” “According to legal records, Barb Carico married Kevin Flavin two years ago. They were divorced six months later.” Chase was watching Hunter’s face. “I called the guy. He was pretty bitter. Said Barb

dropped him after he hurt his back and couldn’t ride anymore.” “A bull rider?” Hunter sat in one of the leather chairs next to Chase. “An ex-bull rider. Apparently, Barb was his manager. He was her first client. Then they got married in Vegas after he placed in the championship that year. Apparently, on his last ride, he jerked something and couldn’t go back the next season, so she divorced him.”

“Doesn’t sound like Barb. Maybe he was just venting steam.” Hunter couldn’t wrap his head around what he was hearing. “I checked with a few people I know in the rodeo business. When this all happened, rumors were that Barb was very good at keeping her riders at her beck and call. No matter what the cost.” Hunter didn’t respond. All he could think about was finding Jesse in Barb’s room that morning, still wet from the shower. Maybe the

Florence Nightingale version of the woman he’d seen this week was the act. Hell, maybe all of it was. “I know what I’m doing,” Hunter finally said. “Angel isn’t getting Kati or the trust fund.” “You may want to be prepared for an ugly court hearing. If I found this ex-husband in less than twenty-four hours, I’m sure Angel knows your new wife’s history as well.” Chase stood and patted Hunter’s shoulder. “I’m due in court at nine. I’ll have Sandy call

your bride in the office next week for testimony prep. I’ll find out what she’s playing at.” “You know, she could just be doing me a favor. She asked me to put up the deposit on her mom’s assisted living facility. That could be all she’s looking for.” Hunter watched his friend and legal counsel walk toward the door. “For your sake, I hope so.” Chase paused, his hand on the door. “For Kati’s sake, I hope so.”

As Chase left the office, Hunter put his head in his hands. Frying pan versus fire … either way, he was screwed. No. He hadn’t changed his life for Kati just to have her snatched away from him now. That kid was getting a good life, one his brother would have wanted for her, even if he had to sleep with the devil to assure she’d be safe. And now, he realized, he might have just made that bargain with Barb. How could he have been so wrong about her?

His intercom buzzed as the door flew open, his secretary’s announcement a second too late. “Mr. Martin is here to see you.” “Never did like waiting,” John Carter Martin announced. “When were you going to tell me?” Hunter stood and hugged his dad. “Tell you what?” “That you lasso’d that filly?” “What?” The two men sat back in the leather chairs. Hunter glanced at the stack of proofs sitting on his

desk. Nothing was getting done today apparently. “I had to hear from my secretary that you and Miss Carico tied the knot in Vegas.” His dad grinned from ear to ear. “No wonder you wanted to take this sponsor trip. You dog.” “How did your secretary find out?” John Carter waved his hand. “That Angel woman called, all hot and bothered yesterday. I’ve told Marsha to screen all my calls

especially from that woman. She’s crazy. And you just took away her one card for court. Now you don’t look like some sort of Three Men and a Baby crap. Genius.” Hunter winced. “I didn’t marry Barb because I wanted to keep Kati. I mean, I want to win this custody battle, but honestly, I didn’t know Angel was going to pull this crap.” “No matter. The deed is done. And I couldn’t be happier for the two of you. I’ve got Marsha planning up a big shindig at the

ranch for Sunday. A reception.” Hunter’s dad stood. “Well, I’ve got work to do. You have that little lady call Marsha so she can invite her side of the family. I’m so happy for you, son.” Hunter felt like he’d been hit by a tidal wave. But this was part of the pretending. He’d been stupid to think he and Barb could keep this thing just between them. That the court would take one look at her and sign off on the custody papers. This was turning into a nightmare.

His dad was still talking. Hunter tried to focus. “And you tell her that I’d already signed off on our sponsorship of Jesse Sullivan before I found out about your wedding. Although it’s not a bad thing to keep business in the family. You can trust family.” Hunter muttered something, words that either his father didn’t hear or were the right ones for the situation, because John Carter didn’t react. Hunter couldn’t even remember what he said — all he

thought about were his dad’s parting words. You can trust family. ••• “Great job on signing up the new sponsor.” James pulled Barb aside as they walked toward the car. James and Cassie had driven Lorraine down from Shawnee that morning. Barb had waited for Kati to catch the school bus, then sped to her mom’s to meet them. “Thanks,” Barb tried to brush

away the compliment. Hunter had dropped the envelope with her copy of the sponsorship contract on the table in front of her when he’d arrived home last night. Home, that was a strange word for Barb to use. Well, it was Hunter and Kati’s home at least, but Barb shouldn’t think of the sprawling ranch house as her home. Not now, not ever. “How’s she been?” James watched her, obviously deciding not to push the issue. “She had a hard night. Cassie said she’s

pretty drugged up now. She slept most of the way here.” “I’m doing the right thing, aren’t I?” James put his hand on Barb’s arm. “Look at me. You didn’t cause this. You can’t fix her condition, and you deserve to have a life.” “I was so totally with you until you got to the last point. Maybe having my own life is overrated.” “Stop it. Where’s the crazy, smart business-savvy woman who

knows exactly what the next step should be?” “That’s only with making decisions for other people’s lives, their careers. Not with my mom’s life.” Tears filled her eyes. “I don’t want to lose her.” James pulled her into a hug. “She needs to live somewhere safe. Where she can’t hurt herself or others. You aren’t losing her by making sure she’s safe.” “Keep telling me that and maybe after a few hundred years,

I’ll believe you.” Barb leaned her head on James’s chest. The man was a rock. Lizzie was one lucky woman. But feeling his arms around her, all she could think about was that James wasn’t the one she wanted to hold her. She needed Hunter. And the depth of that need, that want, scared her almost as much as putting her mother into an assisted living facility. James patted her back then pushed her away. He wiped her

tears with his handkerchief. “You ready to get this over with?” “Always the sensitive one.” Barb laughed. “I need Lizzie, I get her too-busy husband.” “Liz wanted to come. I just didn’t want her to spend four hours in the car today. She’s wearing down a bit carrying those boys.” Barb felt a tang of guilt. She knew Lizzie would have been here for her if she could have. “I’m a selfish bitch sometimes.”

“Nah, just Barb.” James put his arm around her shoulder and they walked to his new SUV. JR’s booster seat was thrown in the back. Barb’s mom and Cassie were in the back seat. Lorraine’s face brightened when Barb climbed in the passenger seat. “Hi, Mom.” Barb reached back and patted her mother’s hand. A hand still young. “Shawnee was beautiful this week. You should have stayed with me.” Lorraine squeezed Barb’s

hand. “Maybe the next trip you can stay longer.” “Maybe.” Barb turned her head toward the window; catching her reflection, she wiped away a stray tear. The ride to the facility was quiet except for the sound of Cassie reading a story quietly to Lorraine. Reading seemed to soothe her and today, Lorraine needed to be soothed. When they walked into the facility and to Lorraine’s new room,

Barb was surprised to see how much they’d been able to replicate the room to look like the one her mom had at home. Lorraine crossed over to the bed. “I’m so glad to be home. You and James run back to your lives. I’m sure there’s a rodeo somewhere you have to be getting to.” “You sure you’ll be okay?” Barb handed her a call button that sat on the nightstand. “If you need anything, just press this and

someone will come in and help you.” “I’m not stupid. I know how to push a call button.” Lorraine’s voice was low and slow. “I know you need to do this, honey. I’ll be fine here.” Lorraine’s words shocked Barb. Her mother hadn’t been coherent most of the week, but right now, she was as clear headed as she’d ever been. “Mom?” Lorraine smiled. “You go on home and come visit me tomorrow

if you’re still in town. I’d like to have you visit.” Barb leaned down and kissed her mother’s feather soft cheek. “I love you.” “I know, baby. I know.” Lorraine lay on the bed, turning her body away from Barb, James, and Cassie. Cassie walked them to the door. “I’ll stay and read to her until she falls asleep.” James took Barb’s arm and walked her through the hallway.

She stopped at the office. “I need to check in with the administrator.” She nodded to the door. “Go call Lizzie and I’ll meet you at the car.” James’s mouth turned into a small grin. “You sure? Liz can wait a few minutes to grill me about how you’re doing.” “Positive. You might want to check on that brother of yours to see if he’s decided to go to the Montana Roundup this weekend or not. I’ve heard from everyone but

him. The boys decided they could handle one rodeo without me.” Barb stepped toward the office door. “You’re irreplaceable, don’t fret. Montana isn’t big money rodeo anyway. I’m sure Jesse just forgot to check in.” James pushed open the entry door. “Take your time.” Barb looked around the plush waiting room. Country casual. A room designed to make you feel at home in a place you didn’t want to be. A vision of Hunter sprawled out

on the couch, his feet hanging off the edge, made her giggle. The sound of her laugh brought a slim woman in a business suit out of the administrator’s office and she stood in front of Barb with the marketing smile Barb used on prospective sponsors. “Can I help you?” “I’m Barb Carico. I just moved my mom into her room today?” Barb didn’t know what else to say. The woman’s smile deepened and Barb thought she saw dollar

signs flash in the woman’s eyes. “Yes, we’ve been expecting Lorraine to come join our family. Mr. Jones has your paperwork all ready. Go on in.” A tall thin man sat behind a large oak desk. Bookcases filled the wall behind him. He stood and motioned to one of the burgundy wing back chairs in front of him. “Have a seat, Miss Carico. I was just finalizing the paperwork.” Barb sat on the edge of the chair. “So what do we do now? Do I

make you monthly payments?” Mr. Jones looked confused. “I thought you knew. A Hunter Martin set up the financial arrangements yesterday. I assumed he was your brother or a relative?” Barb sighed. “Mr. Martin, Hunter, is my husband. We’re newlyweds.” She lifted her left hand to show him the placer ring. Thank God it hadn’t turned her finger green. Fake diamond or not, the ring looked expensive. “I guess he didn’t want to concern me with the

details. Are you going to send me a monthly statement then?” “Miss Carico, I mean, Mrs. Martin, an account has been set up for the payments to be directly paid at the first of each month. I’m sure your husband was meaning to inform you.” He pushed the admission paperwork toward her. “Now, if you’ll just sign these admission papers, you can be back on your way.” Just sign your mom’s care over to us and no muss, no worries. Barb

knew she was doing the right thing. Her mother had even told her she wanted this. But signing each paper while the facility’s administrator watched just seemed so wrong. Tonight was a Ben and Jerry’s night. Then, if she still felt like a heel, she’d break open one of those bottles of wine Hunter kept in his pantry. After Kati went to bed. She’d play the mommy role, hiding her pain until Kati fell asleep. She thought of the little girl’s blonde wispy hair and smiled. Had her

mother felt this way so quickly about her? Barb had known Kati less than a week and already she cared for the kid. “Anything else?” Barb pushed the paperwork toward Mr. Jones, who tapped it on the desk to make it uniform, then gently placed the paper into a file folder. Barb could see her mom’s name on the label. “We’re done here.” Mr. Jones stood and held out his hand. “Visit anytime. Sundays we have a great fried chicken dinner for our guests.

Most of our residents are on a strict diet though so we have special menus for them.” “I’ll be around.” Barb shook the man’s hand. She could see in his eyes that he doubted her word. He must hear that a lot from family members. But this time, except for when her job pulled her away, Barb would visit. Even if it broke her heart a little with every return. She climbed into the passenger seat of James’s SUV.

“Bad?” He turned down the volume on the radio station he’d been listening to. “Worse.” She wouldn’t cry. Not now. Maybe after the bottle of wine in her room after she knew everyone was asleep. James pulled her into a quick hug. “I’ve got good news for you then. Lizzie and I will be down on Sunday.” “Sunday?” Barb slipped her seatbelt on, clicking the tab. “What’s Sunday?”

“You don’t know? Your wedding reception is on Sunday. Lizzie just got a call from someone at Martin Dairy with the invite. So you want a blender or a crock pot?” James cranked the engine. “Neither.” A wedding reception? What was Hunter playing with here? He must have thought it would help them look more married to the court. “Just come. I don’t want a gift.” “When you don’t tell people what you want, you get a hundred

fondue gift sets. This is the voice of experience talking here. And some of those suckers aren’t returnable.” Barb stared out the side window. “I gave you guys a fondue pot.” “Maybe we can return the favor.” James turned back on the radio and the car was silent until he dropped her off in front of her mom’s empty house. Not looking at the house, not wanting to see it look as empty as it felt, Barb climbed into her rental.

Hunter needed to get her a real car. Maybe he had one she could borrow for the short time they would be married. Then again, maybe she should just keep the rental. She’d be out of town next weekend for sure. And maybe by then the court situation would be over with, and Barb could be a divorced woman again. Just like before.

Chapter 10 “Where are we going?” Kati squirmed in the back seat of the rental. Apparently, due to air bags, kids weren’t allowed to ride up front until they left for college or something. There was so much about raising a child Barb didn’t know. One more reason that it was good this arrangement was temporary.

Barb had picked Kati up from school as what her mom used to call Friday surprise. She and Lizzie would slip into the back of their Buick and the three of them would take off. Sometimes it was ice cream at The Pancake House in town. Sometimes they would do a run down to the closest drive-thru for a greasy fast food dinner of hamburgers, fries, and shakes. Once they’d even gone to a food bank and packed boxes.

But they’d never gone to a nursing home. Assisted living, Barb corrected herself. She glanced at Kati in the rearview mirror. “It’s Friday surprise.” Barb turned out of the school parking lot and headed to the freeway. The assisted living center was located out in Eagle. Great neighborhood for the affluently upscale two parent Boise commuter households. Barb had thought someday she’d love to live in the tiny community, but her income had never been

enough to afford the country life. Besides, she loved living in San Francisco. No one knew her there. She could go for days without talking to anyone. Barb realized Kati had asked another question. “Sorry, wool gathering. What did you say?” “I asked if I could bring cupcakes next Wednesday for the class. Uncle Hunter missed my birthday last month and I didn’t get to have a party at school. My teacher said now that you guys are

married, you might do cupcakes for me.” “Chocolate or vanilla. Or swirled?” “Chocolate. Besides, you can’t do swirled, can you?” Kati frowned. “I can do swirled. Don’t tell me you’ve never swirled a cake batter?” “No.” Kati sounded hesitant. “Well, Tuesday night we’ll bake and I’ll show you how you can have it all. At least where cupcakes are concerned.” Barb pulled into

Countryside’s parking lot. “We’re here.” Kati looked around the building. “It looks like a big house.” The building did look more like a large ranch house than an institution. Flowerbeds graced the front with walking paths running around the property and a large privacy fence surrounding the backyard. Benches were scattered around the front, making Barb homesick for the large front porch their Shawnee house had sported.

Barb had spent many a summer day prone in that swing, reading. “My mom lives here. She just moved in yesterday, so I’m not sure how settled or calm she is today. Bear with me for a little visit and then we’ll hit the bookstore on the way home. Deal?” Barb leaned over the fake leather seat watching Kati. The smile that filled the kid’s face was answer enough. “I haven’t been at a bookstore since … ” She faltered, the smile leaving her face. Barb wondered if she’d made a

mistake. But then Kati seemed to make a decision and the smile returned to her face, albeit a bit sadder. “My mom and I used to go once a month on Saturdays. It was our time.” “We don’t have to go.” Barb was close to tears. Kati had suffered so much so young. “I want to.” Kati unhooked her seatbelt and put her hand on the door. “Are we ready?” The kid was an old soul. She reminded Barb of Lizzie at that age. Centered,

understanding, and kind. Hunter was a lucky guy to be able to raise Kati, no matter what the situation. She’d have to tell him about the bookstore so he could start taking Kati after she left. After she left. Why did those words suddenly cause her a pang of regret? “Barb?” Kati’s voice broke through her thoughts. “Sorry, kiddo. I’m ready.” Barb stepped out of the car and crossed over to meet Kati on the other side,

surprised when Kati slipped her hand into hers. Comforted by the gesture, they walked into the front door. Winding through the halls, they came to Lorraine’s room. Soft music flowed out of the doorway when they opened the door. Lorraine sat on the loveseat in the living area of her suite, looking at photo albums. “Are you up for a short visit?” Barb stood at the doorway, not

wanting to intrude on the world her mother was building. A smile brightened Lorraine’s face. “Anytime. Although I expected you to be out of town with your cowboys this weekend. Come in.” Barb sat next to her mother on the loveseat and motioned for Kati to sit in the wing chair on the other side of the small couch. “Mom, this is Kati. She’s my … ” Barb stopped. She’d almost said daughter. Even in the short time she’d known Kati, her heart had attached to this sad

little girl. Barb finished her sentence with “niece.” Lorraine frowned at the word then smiled at Kati. “It’s nice to meet you. I didn’t realize my daughter had a new niece.” “That’s because she married my uncle who had to take me in when my parents died.” Kati’s glance dropped to the photo album. “You got married?” Lorraine looked confused, glancing around the room. “How long have I been here?”

Barb patted her mother’s hand. “You moved in yesterday. Sorry, this wedding thing kind of happened fast. I would have told you sooner, but … ” Barb hesitated. “But I wasn’t here again. I’d had an attack,” Lorraine finished for her. “Yeah.” A silence filled the room, both women mourning the time missed — past and future. Kati broke the silence, pointing to the photo album. “Did you used to ride?”

“Why yes, I did. But those photos are of Barb when she was Queen of the Snake River Stampede. It was such an honor. Barb’s riding club was so small, no one from their group had ever even placed in the bigger rodeo competitions. Not even her friend Lizzie.” Lorraine smiled at her daughter. “You were so beautiful that night with your tiara on your purple cowboy hat. Do you still have that hat?”

Barb hugged her mother. “I think you’re a little biased. But the hat, tiara, and that sparkling outfit are all in storage at your house. Although I don’t think I’ll ever get my thighs into those jeans again. Riding kept me in amazing shape. Hours on the treadmill just don’t carve the same muscles.” “Maybe you can ride with me after my lessons. Claire has a whole riding trail out by the river.” Lorraine looked at Kati. “You ride? Well, we have lots in common

now, don’t we?” Lorraine turned the photo album back to the beginning, showing Kati all the pictures of Barb and some of Lizzie on their horses from grade school on. Barb’s riding scrapbook. She hadn’t realized her mom had kept these photos. Riding in the Shawnee rodeo parade, year after year. The first parade photo showed her dad leading her horse, Barb perched on the pony, grinning from ear to ear. Barb must have been

three or four. “I’ve never seen that picture before.” “Your father was a handsome man.” Lorraine touched his face in the photograph. “He loved horses just as much as you did.” “Did he die?” Kati blurted out the question. Barb froze. Her mom never talked about her dad. When his name was brought up, Lorraine shut down. But this time, Lorraine answered Kati.

“He was killed bringing the cattle down from the summer pasture. A rattler spooked his horse and he fell on a rock. Freak accident. By the time they got him down the mountain, he’d been gone a while.” Kati nodded, accepting the information. “My mommy and daddy died on a motorcycle.” Kati pointed at the next picture. “Is that your house in Shawnee?” They were almost through the photo album when a voice came

through the door. “Smile.” Barb looked up and a flash blurred her eyes. Hunter glanced down at the digital display. “Nope, gotta get another one, Barb was making a face.” “Uncle Hunter. What are you doing here?” Kati bounced on the couch. “Smile first, then talk.” Hunter crinkled his eyes at Barb. “You ready this time?”

Barb felt her mother’s hand reach out and squeeze her own. She turned slightly and smiled at her mom. After a second and a third flash, Hunter pronounced the pictures good. He walked into the room. “I don’t think we’ve been introduced. Hunter Martin. I’m Kati’s uncle.” “And Barbara’s new husband so I hear.” Lorraine shook Hunter’s hand. “You didn’t tell me he was so good looking. If only I was ten years younger.”

Hunter blushed and Barb blessed him for that. “I only have eyes for your lovely daughter.” “Acckk.” Kati stuck her finger down her throat in an exaggerated motion. “Barf alert.” “You have no appreciation for romance.” Hunter pulled her up into a hug. “How was school, squirt?” “Fine. Barb’s making me cupcakes for my birthday next week.”

“We already celebrated your birthday two months ago.” Hunter frowned. “Yeah, but most kids get to bring treats to class and I didn’t, even though I told you.” Kati smiled at Barb. “My teacher already said it was okay.” “My first official act as a parent and you’re telling me I screwed up?” Hunter slumped into the wing back chair. “Don’t worry, it won’t be the last time.” Lorraine closed the

photo album. “That’s what parents do, mess up their kids’ lives by just trying to do the right thing.” Barb couldn’t believe her mom was this clear. She wanted to savor the moment, enjoy the connection, and hold the memory in her heart forever. Instead, she pulled her mother into a gentle hug. “You didn’t mess up my life, not one bit. I did all that on my own.” “You always were a sweet child. Always wanting to fix everyone around you. Always wanting to take

care of people.” Lorraine squeezed her tightly. “Sometimes it’s not your fault.” The room was quiet. Barb wiped her eyes and saw Kati sitting on Hunter’s lap, the two watching, but not speaking. The silence was broken by an attendant coming into the room. “Mrs. Carico? Time for dinner. Can I escort you to the dining room?” The young woman stopped just inside the doorway, respectful

of the boundaries each resident needed. “We have to go anyway.” Barb kissed her mother on the cheek and held her hand out to Kati. “I’m home this weekend so I’ll come by tomorrow too.” Kati surprised Barb by giving Lorraine a hug as well. “And me. I’ll be back tomorrow.” Hunter nodded at Lorraine. “I’m afraid I’ve got a previous engagement I have to take care of,

but it was nice meeting you and I will come back.” Barb wondered about that. Since they were only together for the duration of the court case, should he be visiting her mom? But then she realized, tomorrow wasn’t promised to any of them. Right now, Lorraine was happy. Barb had a nice little family and her mother was happy. Why question the moment? The aide gently lifted Lorraine off the loveseat and they left the

room. Barb, Hunter, and Kati followed. When they turned toward the door, Lorraine turned back and gave them a small wave, blowing a kiss to Barb. Barb felt tears in her eyes as they walked toward the entry door. Hunter’s truck was parked next to Barb’s rental. “Let’s grab some dinner over at The Galaxy.” Hunter’s voice was warm. “You know where it is or do you want to ride with me and we’ll pick up your car later?”

“I’ll follow.” “I’m riding with Uncle Hunter,” Kati pronounced, the bookstore stop forgotten. “He has a back seat that I can ride in, just like a car.” Kati took off and climbed into the truck, leaving Barb and Hunter alone for a second. “I hope it was okay for me to stop by.” Hunter put his hand on her arm. “I wanted to meet her.” “She loved you. I think she likes you more than me,” Barb joked. “I’m glad you stopped by.

That’s the clearest she’s been in months. Maybe this placement was a good thing. She doesn’t have to worry about the house, or dinner, or anything.” “It’s still hard.” Barb didn’t know if Hunter was referencing her mother’s feelings or her own. But honestly, it was hard on both of them. When she didn’t answer, Hunter pulled her into a gentle hug. And then the tears she’d been fighting all day, hell, for years, flooded out of her.

••• Hunter let her cry. He’d come here to gather up his niece, hot as hell that Barb had confiscated her from school. He’d been wound up from his conversation with Chase and ready to call off this charade, not convinced that Barb’s past wouldn’t hurt more than her presence helped. But standing in the doorway of Lorraine’s room, watching the three generations laugh at a picture of

Barb in her high school home economics class, he’d realized there must be more to the story of her first marriage than he’d heard. Even her relationship with Jesse, after what she’d told him about his mom leaving when the boys were kids, made more sense. If Barb was a gold digger, she’d had plenty of chances to run off with a successful rider or sponsor long before they’d met. Now, the woman sobbed as he held her in his arms. Sobbed for a

mother who was still on the earth, but slipping away. He’d been wrong. Or at least, he was willing to give her a little more rope. All he needed was a family for a couple more weeks. Once the issue of Kati’s custody was settled, they could work out an agreement. As her sobs decreased, Hunter wondered if he wanted to work out anything. Barb sniffed then seemed to realize where she was and pulled quickly away, wiping her eyes and

some of the mascara that had bled through her tears. “Sorry to go all soap opera star on you.” “Anytime. You ready for some dinner?” Barb nodded, glancing toward her car like it was an escape hatch on a rocket ship destined for a planet she didn’t want to be on. “I’ll follow. It will give me some time to get this,” she waved her hand over her face, “under control. I don’t cry, ever.”

“Okay Mrs. Rock of Gibraltar, you don’t cry. I guess my shirt’s all wet because of a freak rain storm that just hit my shoulder.” Barb swatted at him. “You could be a little understanding.” “And you could realize everyone cries at some point in their lives. Even strong, independent women like you.” He touched her arm. “You okay to drive?” “See, that’s why I don’t cry. Men assume I can’t do anything for

myself anyway. Tears just confirm it.” Barb smiled, softening her words. “I’ll see you at the restaurant. You’re buying, right?” “Of course. I can do one traditional man role. I’m great at being the source of the money.” Barb blanched, and Hunter wished he could take his words back. Something about what he’d said had hit a nerve with her. They needed to have a long talk over a bottle of tequila one night when Kati wasn’t around. But not yet.

Barb hurried over to her car and waved as she got in. Hunter stood watching her until Kati honked the horn on the truck. “Come on, Uncle Hunter. I’m starved.” He climbed into the truck and glanced back at Kati. “You buckled in?” “Of course, I’m not a baby.” Kati slipped back her seat watching Barb out the window. “Barb seems sad about her mom. I wonder why

she lives here with all the other old people.” “Barb’s mom has memory problems. So she has to have people around her.” Hunter backed the truck out of the parking slot and headed back into town. “So she doesn’t burn the house down?” “Correct. She could forget a pot on the stove or even go for a walk and get lost.” Kati was silent for a long while. At a stoplight, Hunter glanced at

her through the rearview mirror. “You okay back there?” “Just thinking. I bet Barb is scared her mom will forget her.” And with that, Hunter realized Kati got it. “I think you’re right, honey.” He glanced out his side window and watched Barb’s car pull up behind his truck. “I think that’s exactly what Barb’s afraid of.” When they reached The Galaxy, the hostess dressed in a fifties style waitress uniform, complete with beehive hairdo, seated them in a

bright red stuffed booth. Music blared through the flashing jukebox announcing that rock and roll was here to stay. After the waitress took their orders and had delivered large, icy Cherry Cokes for all three, Barb and Hunter stared at each other. Hunter could see the thoughts prance over Barb’s face, discarding one topic after another. He waited to see what she could come up with to talk about. He didn’t have to wait long.

Kati filled the silence. “Grease is my favorite movie. Have you seen it? Danny is a bad boy and falls in love with this girl who is like the cheerleader type but he doesn’t think he’s good enough for her.” “I’ve seen the movie a few times. I love the music.” Barb sipped her soda. “Yum, this is good.” Kati waved the comment away. “Do you think people can just fall in love? Even when everything says they shouldn’t be together? Annie,

she’s in my class, says that’s stupid. That people need to be with someone who’s like them. And that Danny and Sandy probably got divorced right after they got married.” Hunter glanced at Barb, wondering what she’d say. “Sometimes people get married for all kinds of reasons that have nothing to do with love. So they divorce.” Barb leaned back into her seat. “But if two people are really in love, like Danny and Sandy, then I

think they can be as different as night and day and still stay together.” Kati nodded. “I agree. Love conquers all.” Hunter grinned. “And you’re basing this platitude on your seven years of experience? When were you in love?” Kati focused on him. “I haven’t been, but my mom and dad were. They would have been together forever. You could see it when they

were together. Just like you and Barb.” Hunter froze. Kati was right, his brother had been wildly in love with his wife. Storybook kind of love. But her instincts were off on him and Barb. This was an arrangement, not a marriage. But he couldn’t say that to the kid. Not now, but maybe later. Kati continued, not picking up on Hunter’s discomfort. “You two will be married forever and ever.”

Hunter looked at Barb. She had the same panic in her eyes as he felt. This was a bad idea. But the die was cast and they had to see it through, for Kati’s sake. Luckily, the waitress arrived with their cheeseburgers and French fries. A love that could last a lifetime. He had to stop reading fairytales to his niece as her bedtime stories. Or letting her watch Grease.

Chapter 11 “We’re having a reception tomorrow?” Barb’s question startled Hunter. Barb sat at the kitchen table, looking hot in ropers and a tank top, her wild red hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. What was it about the woman that every time he looked at her, he remembered their one night together? He was going to have to get over this since

she would be in his house day after day until after the court hearing. He couldn’t be reacting like a horny teenager every time he saw her. “Yeah, sorry, I meant to tell you. My dad set that up. His secretary was supposed to call to get your names for the invite.” Hunter poured himself a cup of coffee and put a slice of still warm banana bread on a plate before he sat down at the table. He definitely was going to miss her baking. He’d probably

put on ten pounds before she left. He hoped Kati would do the same. “She didn’t call me, she called Lizzie and Lizzie took care of everything. Including buying me a new dress she’s bringing over Sunday morning.” Barb’s gaze was hard over her cup. “I don’t like pulling my friends into this arrangement. Lizzie’s going to be hurt for me when we break up.” “Like I said, my dad pulled this together.” The charade was spinning out of control and even he

knew it. “I’m just as uncomfortable with this as you are. But Kati and I need you. Just for a while.” Barb sighed and sipped her coffee. “Sure, play the suffering kid card. You can be a jerk sometimes, you know that?” “Sometimes.” Hunter smiled. “The bread’s great. But you don’t have to bake all the time. That’s not part of our agreement.” “Baking calms me. And besides, who knows the next time I’ll get to play house in a kitchen like this?”

Barb swept her arm around the room. “Who stocked this for you? I can’t believe you bought all the kitchen accessories. Hell, you have a Cuisinart mixer. All the good stuff.” Hunter smiled. “My secretary. When I bought the house to be in Kati’s same school district, I asked Kelly to decorate and stock the place. I didn’t realize she’d go all out on the kitchen like this. She told me later she built the kitchen to help me snag a wife someday. I

don’t think she liked the company I was keeping before Kati came along.” “Why?” “Let’s just say my focus was more on fun than a future.” Hunter got up to get a second slice. “Now, all I think about is the future. And I can’t imagine not having Kati in it. The custody suit floored me last week. What was Angel thinking? I would have given her money just to go away.”

“No. If I’ve learned something in my life it’s you don’t feed trolls. You give them what they want today, they just come back tomorrow for more. It’s never enough. Fight for custody. I’ll do what I can to help.” Hunter watched Barb as he slathered butter on the bread. He wondered if she was talking about her last husband. Had their break up been more than the rumors he’d heard? The girl didn’t seem like money motivated her actions,

although she did love his kitchen. He took a bite of the bread. Could be worse, he thought. She could love his liquor cabinet. He sat back down at the table. “Thanks.” Barb popped out of her chair as quickly as he sat down. “I’ve got to get Kati up and going. We’re visiting mom first thing today and then she has her riding lesson.” “Don’t forget the meeting with Angel.”

“Like I could. That woman gets under my skin. We’ll be there.” Barb paused at the doorway. “You don’t mind me taking Kati with me to visit Mom, do you?” Hunter thought about the three women sitting on the loveseat yesterday at the assisted living center. How they looked like family, even though only two were related. “Not at all. It’s good for Kati to have older people in her life. At least that’s what the parenting books tell me.”

“You have good instincts. You probably don’t need the books.” And then Barb disappeared into the hallway. He could hear murmurs coming from the direction of Kati’s room, then a shower starting. The woman was good for Kati too. He didn’t know how to fix Kati’s hair, or pick out clothes, or even say the right thing most days. And those things weren’t covered in the parenting books. Now he just needed a book on how to talk to

your fake wife who you wanted to drag to your real bedroom every night. That’s a book he could learn from. ••• Barb’s mother wasn’t in her room. Barb grabbed a nurse walking by. “Where’s my mother? Mrs. Carico? Did something happen?” The nurse patted Barb’s hand, then smiled at Kati. “Nothing’s wrong. Your mother is in the living room out front, they have a knitting

club meeting every Saturday. It’s this way.” Barb stared at the woman’s back. Knitting? Her mother had never knit in her life. She felt Kati pull on her hand. “Come on, Barb, let’s surprise her.” Kati nodded to the retreating nurse. Barb had fallen down the rabbit hole. She was pretending to be a wife and a mother to this little girl. Meanwhile, her own mom, the honky-tonk queen of the party, was

knitting with a group of women? This she had to see. And maybe get a picture. And post it on Facebook. The 1966 Queen of the Snake River Stampede takes up a new hobby. She could have a before and after picture. Barb smiled. She was evil. That was all there was to say. And she knew it. They walked into a large sunroom where four women were gathered around a small table. Lorraine had knitting needles in her

hand and a slight elderly woman sat next to her, guiding Lorraine through every stitch. “That’s right, cross the yarn over the needles, then pull through, just like before.” The woman’s voice was so calm, Barb thought she might even be able to learn the craft. “It’s so tight,” Lorraine complained. “That’s because you’re holding on to those needles like they were a butcher knife and you were facing a

serial killer.” The woman laughed. “Relax a bit.” “Might as well tell her to grow a third arm.” Barb commented from behind the table. “My mother doesn’t relax, ever.” Lorraine turned and smiled. “I’m so glad to see you this morning. Let me introduce you to Sally. She’s teaching me to knit.” Kati went and stood close to Lorraine. “Maybe you can make me a scarf?”

Lorraine hugged the little girl, then turned her toward Sally. “This is my granddaughter, Kati.” Barb took in a sharp breath. This was all getting out of control. Now her mom was involved. With the memory problems Lorraine had been having for years, Barb never believed she’d remember Kati after just one visit. And now she was introducing her as her granddaughter. Tomorrow they’d be announcing their union to friends and family. A marriage that was

only on paper. This was the worst idea Barb had ever had. She watched as her mother showed Kati what she’d learned. The woman promised to make Kati a blue scarf, just in time for the winter that would be here sooner than later. The smile on her mom’s face told Barb one thing: Lorraine liked it here at Countryside. Barb should have made the move years ago. The scared woman who’d called her a week ago complaining someone was in her house was

gone, the mom Barb remembered, in her place. And if she had to pretend to be married to Hunter for years to keep that smile on her mom’s face, well she’d just have to buck up and swallow her pride. Her mom needed this level of care, and right now, this was the only way to ensure she got it. Barb pulled a chair up to the table and got a cup of coffee from the sideboard, joining in the conversation. They had an hour

before they had to leave for Kati’s riding lesson, and Barb was enjoying her time with her mom. For the first time in a long time. When they’d said their goodbyes and Kati was secured in the back seat, Barb pulled the rental out of the parking lot. “Did you have fun?” Kati wrapped a string of yarn around her fingers, playing cat’s cradle with the tied circle of blue. She nodded in answer to Barb’s question. “Your mom’s nice to me.

She seems happy when we come to see her.” “I think she is happy to see us.” Barb steered the car onto the freeway entry ramp, increasing her speed. She glanced back at Kati. “Does it bother you that she calls you her granddaughter?” Kati frowned and looked up from her tangle of string. “Why would it? She’s your mom and you’re married to Uncle Hunter, so in a way, you’re my new mom. Even though you’re not.”

Leave it to a child to keep it all straight. Barb couldn’t even tell the players without a scorecard, but Kati had her pulse on the facts. “I was just making sure. I can ask her not to call you that.” “It’s okay. It’s nice to have a grandma for once. I never met either of my grandmas. So this is cool.” Barb smiled. The kid could make lemon pound cake out of lemons. Just give her some time and she’d put a positive spin on

anything life threw at her. The kid was a lot like her Uncle Hunter. “Almost there,” Barb said, almost to herself. She had a nervous habit of listing off all her chores to keep them in the forefront of her mind. Otherwise, she’d forget to do a lot. “Then we’re meeting up with Angel for ice cream. I’m thinking chicken for dinner.” “I like chicken.” Kati paused, then asked, “Why don’t you sleep with Uncle Hunter? I thought

married people were supposed to sleep together?” Eagle-eye Kati didn’t miss a thing. Barb glanced back at the girl, who was watching her in the rearview mirror. “We’re taking this kind of slow.” “Oh. There’s our exit.” Kati leaned forward, her attention off Barb and now on her upcoming riding lesson. At least, Barb hoped so. The kid kept her on her toes, that was for certain. She needed a training manual in seven-year-olds.

Then maybe she’d get out of this without messing with Kati’s head or her own. Too late. The thought came unbidden, but the truth stung Barb nonetheless. Barb just hoped the good she and Hunter were doing to keep Kati from the clutches of Angel and her family was worth the price all three of them would pay for the deception. When they pulled up in the training facility parking lot, Barb was impressed. The owners had

training corrals, a large showing barn, and several pastures with horses grazing in the fields. The property backed up against the Boise foothills and Barb knew several riding paths that were within a mile or so of this spot. Whoever had put this place together knew their stuff. Hell, she could be happy running a business like this. Kati scampered out of the car and ran to a woman standing near one of the corrals. “I’ve got my own

boots.” She spun, modeling her new clothes that Barb had bought during the shopping trip. The kid looked like a cowgirl should. Barb smiled as she walked up to the pair. “You look awesome.” The woman smiled at Kati, but when her eyes met Barb’s, no smile echoed. “You must be Angel?” Barb laughed. “Not in this lifetime.” Claire frowned, apparently confused at Barb’s humor.

“This is my new Aunt Barb. She and Uncle Hunter got married.” Kati climbed on the wood fence. “Am I riding Cheyenne today? Or Buster?” “Buster. Head into the barn. Sally will help you get him ready.” Claire turned toward Barb. “Sorry, I didn’t realize Hunter was even dating.” The pain in Claire’s eyes told Barb one thing: this girl had thought there would be a chance for her in Hunter’s life. Maybe she’d

even been warming Hunter’s bed since Kati’s lessons had started. No, Barb decided. Hunter hadn’t moved that quickly with anyone, not since Kati had come to stay. Or at least she hoped the trim, athletic blonde hadn’t bedded her husband. A pang of jealousy flowed through Barb’s thoughts. One she quickly brushed away as being stupid. “We kind of surprised everyone,” Barb said, trying to keep her tone casual. She changed the

subject. “How good is she with horses? I know she loves riding.” Claire glanced toward the open barn door where Kati and a teenager saddled a quarter horse twice the height of Kati. Claire smiled. “She’s my prize student. She’ll be ready to compete by fall.” “English or American?” “We start all the kids out with American but I’d like her to switch up soon and learn to jump.” Claire cocked her head and then asked, “You must ride?”

“I do. I did. Barrel racing as a teenager. Right now I’m managing four bull riders, so there isn’t a lot of free time.” Barb laughed. “The boys keep me busy.” “Well, maybe you could bring out one of those boys next time you visit.” Claire motioned to the large corral where Kati and the horse were heading. “I wouldn’t mind some eye candy showing up at my place.” With that, Barb knew she’d been forgiven for stealing Hunter

and maybe the two women could actually be friends. Or at least friends until the divorce came through. Barb sighed. Keeping up the pretense while not getting attached to anyone or anything in Hunter and Kati’s lives was hard. Almost impossible. A vision of her mom smiling this morning while she ripped out her knitting and started over came to Barb. Nothing was impossible. Not when her mother needed this to be safe.

She smiled at Claire. She could do this. She had to. Two hours later, a dusty and tired Kati in the back seat, they parked in front of the Ice Cream Palace. “We’re right on time,” Barb announced. “Great.” Kati’s voice was petulant. “Come on, she’s your aunt. She wants to visit with you.” Barb turned, laying her arm over the seat.

“I don’t think so.” Kati met Barb’s glance. “I mean, she never even talked to me before Mom and Dad died. When we went to visit, she’d send me out to play with Tony. We weren’t allowed in the front room with the adults.” “People see kids differently. Maybe losing her sister has changed your aunt.” Barb was trying to give Angel the benefit of the doubt but every time she learned something new, she hated the woman even more. “And it’s just ice cream. You

can talk to her for a few minutes for ice cream, right?” Bribery. It was a shameful ploy, but it was all Barb had. “I guess.” Kati slipped out of the car and waited on the sidewalk for Barb to join her. By the time Barb had locked the car and met up with Kati, Hunter had joined them. “I didn’t realize you were coming too.” She spoke quietly, letting Kati walk in front of them.

“After your last encounter with Angel, I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” He nodded at Kati. “How’d the lesson go?” Barb smiled, her face relaxing. “The kid’s a natural. Get ready, you’ve got ten years of riding competitions ahead of you.” Hunter glanced at her, his look unreadable. “Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.” Barb was just about to ask him what he meant when Angel stood

from her table and waved them over. “Here we go.” Angel and Fred had come alone. Which was too bad in Barb’s mind since she had decided she would rat off their precious son about his alcohol use. Or maybe the parents already knew and didn’t care? This parenting job seemed harder and harder the more she found out about the requirements. They needed to make people get a license. A test Angel wouldn’t pass.

But Barb didn’t know if she would, either. “Look at you in your cowgirl outfit.” Angel’s gaze dropped to Kati’s boots. “And new boots too. Didn’t you tell that woman your aunt had just bought you boots?” “Boots totally inappropriate for riding or a seven-year-old. Her trainer had her in a backup pair at the barn.” Barb smiled sweetly, trying to soften the words for Kati’s sake.

Anger flashed on Angel’s face, then disappeared. “Well, you should have told me, darling, I would have bought you different boots.” Kati slipped into her chair. “That’s okay. I didn’t mind.” “Kati’s trainer says she’ll be ready to compete by fall,” Barb announced to the table, feeling pride for the little girl. “Compete? What on earth are you talking about?” Angel asked. “Riding competitions, showing the horse, how you can control its

movements. Eventually, she’ll be jumping, but not yet.” Barb smiled at Kati. “We’ll need to get you English riding clothes too.” “Maybe you shouldn’t be making plans with the child so close to the court hearing,” Fred Monnet spoke up. “I’m sure Hunter’s lawyer has expressed the likelihood that the child will be in our custody soon. With visitation, of course.” “This isn’t the place to talk about the legal stuff,” Hunter growled at Fred. “Angel said you

wanted some time with Kati, so here’s your time.” “I don’t understand why we had to meet here.” Fred straightened his suit and tie, glancing around the room. “So many children around.” “Because it serves ice cream.” Barb shook her head. The man definitely didn’t understand kids. He probably would have been happy meeting in a five-star restaurant where Kati had to dress up just to be seen. This was why she had to

help Hunter keep Kati. As much as she disliked Angel from first glance, Fred was coming up a close second. The waitress appeared for their order. “I’m having a banana split,” Hunter announced. “Chocolate peanut surprise,” Barb chimed in. “Kati?” “I want the Monster.” Barb laughed. The Monster was a taste of every ice cream the place had, topped with whipped cream, nuts, and a cherry on top. In

addition, they brought out chocolate, caramel, and strawberry topping, just in case. Angel frowned, glancing at the menu. “That seems to be a lot of ice cream. Wouldn’t you rather have a small sherbet? You have to watch your calories.” “She’s not dieting, Angel,” Hunter stepped in. “Besides, she just rode for two hours. She deserves a treat.” “Leave it alone,” Fred warned and a look passed between the

couple. Great, another incident of bad parenting on our part, Barb thought. Just by letting a kid be a kid, we’ll look like we don’t care about her diet or health. She made plans to have a very healthy dinner to counteract the ice cream calories. Maybe grilled chicken and a salad? Green salad though, not the decadent potato salad she’d planned. Fred and Angel ordered coffee and the waitress left. The table grew

still. Finally, Angel brightened. “How’s school?” Barb groaned silently. Angel took that long to come up with a lame question like that? But Kati didn’t seem to mind. She prattled on about her teacher and their science experiment and how they were building a real live volcano and reading a book about a volcano exploding. Barb tuned out, grateful that the waitress had brought their ice cream while Kati

talked. She had just taken a bite when she heard Kati’s words. “Then Grandma said she’d teach me to knit the next time we visited so I need to go to the craft store.” Angel sat back in her chair. “Grandma? Honey, you don’t have any grandmothers. They are both dead.” Kati shook her head and took a big bite of what looked like butter pecan ice cream. “No, Barb’s mom is alive. She just has to live with

other old people because she forgets things.” “Really.” Barb could see Angel’s thought whirling, wondering if this new development in the family structure hurt or helped her case. “Look, leave my mother out of this,” Barb warned. “She has nothing to do with the court case.” Angel’s eyebrows rose. “I’m not sure what you mean.” She smiled at Barb. “Well, this has been lovely, but we have to get back. The

babysitter can’t stay late today, she has finals.” “We have a babysitter?” Fred asked, confused. “Of course we do. We wouldn’t leave our dear child alone without proper supervision.” Right, and you don’t let your ten-year-old drink beer, either. Barb watched the woman kiss Kati on the head, not wanting to touch her face, which by this time was smeared with chocolate syrup.

“Nice meeting you,” Barb called out to the retreating Fred. He just waved. “We’ll see you tomorrow at the reception,” Angel called back. Barb shot a glance at Hunter. “You invited the enemy?” He shrugged, carving out a spoonful filled with banana, vanilla ice cream, and strawberry syrup, dipping it into the whipped cream before he brought it toward his lips. “Figured they needed to know we were serious about this marriage.

Besides, I’m sure they bought us a great gift. Maybe even a fondue pot.” Barb shook her head and laughed. “You’re bad. Besides, we already have a fondue pot coming.” Kati glanced between them, her face covered with ice cream and syrup. “What’s a fondue pot?”

Chapter 12 “So tell me the truth, did you pick out my wedding dress or did James?” Lizzie Hudson Sullivan adjusted the tank straps on the white chiffon wedding dress she’d arrived with Sunday morning. A wedding dress and a box of cinnamon rolls. When Lizzie had zipped the dress, Barb was glad she’d only eaten one of the rolls

before they’d started getting ready for the reception. Barb glanced at her reflection, thinking back on the day James and Lizzie tied the knot and she’d been the lady-in-waiting for her friend. “Seriously, James ordered your dress. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you.” “The man surprises me at times, that’s all.” Lizzie adjusted the neckline. Barb smiled at her friend’s reflection in the mirror. “This is

beautiful, Liz. You didn’t have to buy this for me.” “When James came home and told me you were planning on wearing a suit? Come on. A girl doesn’t get married every day.” Lizzie hugged Barb. All of a sudden, Barb felt a kick in her stomach. “Sorry, the boys are active today.” Lizzie was due to deliver her twin boys any day now. Barb just hoped she got through the wedding reception without being rushed to

the hospital. Lizzie handed Barb the mimosa she’d poured earlier. “You sure this is mine?” Barb sipped the drink quickly, not wanting Lizzie to wind up with the alcoholic version. Yep, the champagne gave the orange juice a nice kick. Just enough for Barb to think this reception wasn’t the horror story she worried it was going to become. “I tied a ribbon around mine. Although, I’d kill for a nice glass of wine. With breastfeeding, I’ll be dry

for close to two years. James has promised me a trip to Napa, just the two of us, when the boys are weaned.” Lizzie grinned and patted her stomach. “Of course by then, one glass will send me over the edge and I’ll wind up like this again.” “James isn’t stupid. He knows how to get what he wants.” Barb smoothed her skirt. The dress fit like a dream. It was exactly the dress she’d always wanted. The two friends had taken Mrs. Higgins’s

home economics class together as seniors where they’d had to plan a wedding as a class assignment. Barb could swear this was the exact dress she’d found in the bride’s magazine so many years ago. “You did good.” “Yeah, I know. Shopping for you is easier than shopping for tents for me. You should have seen all the hideous maternity bride maids’ dresses.” Lizzie lowered herself into a chair and took a bite of her third cinnamon roll. “You could have planned this wedding a

little better for me. I mean, give me a month or two to slim down and I’d be a hot matron of honor.” “The wedding just kind of happened. And this … ” Barb glanced down at her dress feeling like a fraud. “This was kind of spur of the moment too.” Lizzie studied her friend for a moment before she spoke. “Are you happy?” “Yes, I mean … ” She pulled a chair up next to Liz. “If I tell you something, you have to promise not

to even tell James. He’ll know, eventually, but right now, it has to be a secret.” “Oh. My. God. You’re pregnant. I’m so excited. The babies will be so close, this is wonderful news.” Lizzie pulled her friend into a hug. Then pushed her back and glanced at her. “Funny thing, you don’t look it. The first week I knew I was carrying the twins, my boobs grew two cup sizes. James was in heaven.”

“Liz, I’m not pregnant.” Barb paused, waiting for her words to sink in. “Then what’s the secret? Don’t tell me you’re quitting as Jesse’s manager. James can’t take that back on, not yet, not now with the boys coming.” Lizzie’s face paled. “Stop making up stories and let me talk, okay?” Barb looked at her friend. For all her tough demeanor and years as a single mom, Lizzie had always believed in love. In happily ever after. How would she

take finding out her best friend had been impulsive in getting married and money had kept her in the relationship? Well, money for Mom’s care … and then there was Kati. She’d do anything for that little girl. Almost like she was her own child. “I’m waiting.” Lizzie’s voice brought her out of her thoughts. “I didn’t tell you everything last week. Hunter and I didn’t plan to get married,” Barb started.

“Vegas weddings usually aren’t planned.” “Well, we were planning an annulment once we got back. It was impulsive and stupid. We hardly knew each other.” Barb could see Lizzie wanted to calm what she thought was just nerves on Barb’s part. She continued talking to hold Lizzie off. “Hunter’s being sued for custody of Kati. Her maternal aunt found out that Kati has a sizable trust and wants control over the money.”

“He’ll fight it, of course.” Lizzie looked confused. “Yes, he’s fighting the suit. But, they have a perfect family on the surface. Mom, dad, kid. The judge might choose family over a single guy raising a young girl.” “But Hunter’s not single. You’re married.” Lizzie’s voice trailed off. “And that’s why you’re staying married. Why the dog and pony show today. You’re staying married for the court case appearance.”

“You make it sound wrong.” “I don’t know what to think. What are you getting out of this arrangement?” Lizzie took Barb’s hands and squeezed. “You always were too generous. Too willing to help anyone and everyone.” “Not this time.” Barb swallowed. “Hunter put up the money so Mom could live at Countryside.” Lizzie’s eyes widened. “He paid you?”

“No, well, yes, kind of.” Barb squeezed her friend’s hands. “I know what I’m doing here. Just be happy for me.” “Happy for your secret life or the fake one you’re playing at?” Lizzie lifted herself out of her chair. “The boys are killing my bladder. I’ll be right back.” As she walked into the hallway toward the bathroom she stopped and looked back at Barb. “I would have sworn you looked like you were in love. Are you sure there

isn’t something else going on here?” Lizzie didn’t wait for an answer, which was for the best. Barb didn’t know what to say. She looked at herself in the mirror. Was she falling in love with Hunter Martin? With Kati? She knew the answer to that — Kati was a great kid. She could see a future raising Kati, going to mother-daughter teas at school, cheering for her at the riding competitions, and, ultimately, standing by her while

she dressed in a white dress, waiting for her life to change. As if Barb’s thoughts had called her, Kati ran into the bedroom. She had on a new blue chiffon dress just like Lizzie’s. Her blonde hair hung straight down her back. She looked beautiful. Barb leaned down and hugged Kati hard, tears filling Barb’s eyes. “You look amazing.” “Not as good as you.” Kati pulled out of the hug and made

Barb twirl. “I love that dress. You look like a princess.” Barb laughed. “I feel like a princess today. What’s going on downstairs, are we ready to start?” They had driven over to John Carter’s mini ranch right after Lizzie had arrived and the women had confiscated his master suite. “Uncle Hunter says you and Lizzie need to come down, the photographer’s here. He said I get a picture of just me.” Kati twirled in

her dress. “We’ll get it framed and everything.” Barb smiled. “Let’s wait for Lizzie and then we can go down.” She perched on the bed. “Come sit by me.” Kati sat close. Barb pulled out a jewelry box with a silver heart locket. In the locket, she’d put a picture of Kati’s parents she’d gotten from John Carter. She opened the box and handed it to the little girl. “This is so you’ll always remember me and

your parents, even if we aren’t here to hug you or tell you how much we love you.” Kati’s eyes glistened. “I love it. Can I wear it today?” “That’s why I bought it.” Barb pulled the locket out and latched it around Kati’s neck. She kissed the top of Kati’s head. “I love you, little girl. Don’t ever question that.” Kati looked up and smiled. “I love you too.” She grabbed Barb into a tight hug. “Now we make a good family.”

Barb’s heart sank. This was wrong, on oh, so many levels, the day was wrong. And mostly, Kati would be the one hurt when Barb walked away. Whatever you have to tell yourself. She shook away the thought. Barb wasn’t attached. Wasn’t in love. Lizzie was wrong. “Did I hear someone say it’s picture time?” Lizzie put her hand on Barb’s shoulder. Pulling away from Kati, Barb dabbed at her eyes. “As long as my

mascara has lived up to its waterproof claim, I’m ready.” Lizzie lifted Barb’s chin, examining her makeup. Her gaze was thoughtful and Barb knew it had nothing to do with the state of her face. “You’re good.” Kati bounced off the bed. “Look what Barb gave me. My first real piece of jewelry. And it has a picture of my parents in it.” Lizzie peered at the locket. “It’s beautiful. What a lovely thought.” She looked again at Barb.

Barb shifted her gaze downward and stood. “We better get down there before they send a search crew for us.” Lizzie followed Barb out of the room and Kati chatted happily all the way down the stairs and out onto the lawn. But Barb didn’t hear a word the kid was saying. She felt like she was walking up the steps to an Old West hanging, or that she was one of Henry the Eighth’s unfortunate wives. When her gaze found Hunter on the lawn with his

father, James, and another man, she froze. He looked amazing. This was the wedding of her dreams. The man she’d always wanted. And a built in family she could love. Probably did love if she was being honest. And it was all fake. The touch of Lizzie’s hand on her back eased her forward. Barb faked a smile and took a deep breath. She could do this. For her mom’s sake, she could do this. She glided forward to the group.

Hunter came to greet her and kissed her gently on the cheek. “You look amazing.” Then he leaned closer and whispered in her ear. “Thank you for doing this. Kati deserves a real family.” Barb’s heart fell for the second time in twenty minutes. She’d forgotten he had an agenda too. An agenda that didn’t include loving her or promising anything outside their original arrangement. He was acting too. She closed her eyes for just a second, to settle, to get her

bearings. To get the smell of Hunter’s cologne out of her head. “You okay?” Hunter asked, his face so close she could kiss him if she just turned her head. Really kiss him, not just a peck on the cheek. A kiss that might have him questioning their arrangement the same way Barb was doing right now. A kiss that would reveal her to him, to be the fraud she felt. Because all she wanted right now was for all this to be real. Not a dog and pony show. She wanted to be

Mrs. Hunter Martin for now and eternity. She opened her eyes, abandoning the thought of the kiss, and smiled brightly at him. “I’m amazing. It’s a little overwhelming, you know.” Hunter’s eyebrows rose. “Believe me, I know. I asked my dad not to go all crazy with this and as usual, he totally ignored my wishes. Welcome to the carnival.” “Pictures,” John Carter called out. “You two love birds have the

rest of your life to cuddle and talk. Right now, it’s picture time.” Barb let Hunter lead her over to the group. She just hoped that the older Martin was right. That they did have the rest of their lives together and this acting job wouldn’t go the way of a bad sitcom series, canceled in the first two weeks. Barb was just settling into her role of bride, smiling and nodding, her head resting on Hunter’s shoulder, when laughter broke out

from the side of the house. Straining to see who was making the noise, she smiled when Jesse Sullivan rounded the corner with her other three bull riders. The men strutted across the yard in their cowboy finery — black hats, sponsor shirts, and new tight jeans. A hush came over the busy reception, and Barb saw more than one female head turn to follow the men’s path. Barb stood to greet them. “Jesse, guys, what are you doing here? I thought you were

riding in Montana this weekend.” Barb hugged each man in turn. Mike, the oldest rider, grinned. “We didn’t make the finals. So we thought we’d skip out early and come meet your new man.” Barb glanced at the four, sheepish looks on their faces. “None of you made the finals?” “Believe me, it looked like we tried. Jesse had a hell of a ride, taking it just up to the buzzer before he brought his hand down and disqualified himself.” Mike

slapped Jesse on the back. “The rest of us took a tumble, but this guy didn’t want to take a chance of getting hurt. The puss.” “You threw the competition just so you could be here?” Barb asked, focusing her attention on Jesse. “Now don’t be getting all mad, we all agreed we should be here to support you. Especially because of your mom.” Jesse stood in front of the other three, looking like a momma bear in front of her cubs.

“Everyone needs family at times like this. And we may not be much, but we’re your family.” “I think it’s the sweetest thing you guys have ever done for me.” Barb kissed each man on the cheek. Then stepping back, she grinned. “Of course next weekend, I expect you all to place so we can recoup the loss we’re going to show for today.” “Well, at least one of us will.” Mike poked Jesse in the side.

Barb felt Hunter’s hand on the small of her back. Protective, but not pushy. Like he was saying, I’m here if you need me. “Guys, meet Hunter Martin, my husband. Hunter, meet the guys who take up most of my summer with their problems.” Jesse held out his hand. “Nice to see you again. You guys should have told me you just got hitched. I would have found another shower.” “I’m sure you won’t make that mistake again,” Hunter responded,

his voice cool. Barb watched the interaction. For a guy who knew this arrangement was short lived, Hunter sure was claiming Barb as his territory. She shook her head. Maybe guys couldn’t help it. “Come on guys, play nice.” “What are we playing?” Kati pushed in between Barb and Hunter. “Wow, are you guys real cowboys? I bet Claire would love to meet you.”

“Who’s Claire?” Jesse squatted to be face to face with Kati. “She’s my riding instructor. She’s always saying it’s hard to find a real cowboy these days.” Kati looked up at Barb. “Claire says she dates a lot of wannabes.” “Well, maybe I need to meet this Claire. She as pretty as you?” Jesse pinched Kati’s cheek. Kati giggled. The man could charm a rattlesnake, Barb thought. She pushed Kati’s hair back out of her

eyes. “Kati, these are the bull riders I work with.” “Miss Kati.” Jesse nodded to the little girl, then rose back to his 6’2" height. “You mind if we grab something to eat? We didn’t stop on the way, didn’t want to be late.” “Of course. There’s an open bar over there too.” Hunter pointed to the left. “I’m sure you should be able to find a woman or two who would grant you a dance in this crowd.”

The men nodded, then tipped their hats to Barb. As she watched them walk away, she muttered to Hunter, “You realize you just released the wolves into the chicken coop. Those girls don’t have a chance.” “As long as they stay away from my prize hen, I’m not concerned.” Hunter kissed the back of her hand then walked away with Kati to greet more newcomers.

Chapter 13 The day was winding down. Barb watched as more of the guests dwindled out of the yard. One more hour and they’d be able to go home. Home. She thought of Hunter’s house as home. This play was getting a little too real for her tastes. Hunter was talking to his dad, Lizzie and James were slow dancing on the wood parquet floor, and Kati was showing off her dress

to everyone. Barb’s bull riders were crowded around a table, each with a girl at their side. The guys didn’t waste time. “Great party,” Angel’s voice broke into her thoughts. Turning to greet the one person this entire show was developed for, she took in a sharp breath. Angel had a companion. Tall, dark, and good looking, the man stood in his jeans and button-down shirt, smirking.

“You look great, Barbie.” His Texas twang as thick as ever. Barb’s stomach knotted. “What are you doing here?” “I wanted to meet the new husband. I think it’s my right, don’t you?” Kevin Flavin put his fingers in his belt loops and looked around the party. Raising his voice to be heard over the music, he said, “So where is the newest victim?” Barb felt Hunter’s hand before he even touched her shoulder. He stood over her. “I don’t think we’ve

met.” Hunter’s voice was cool, commanding. “Wild Barbie didn’t tell you about me?” Kevin shook his finger at Barb, who was still rooted in her chair. “I’m the love of her life, the man she married and dumped in less than a month. Once she got what she wanted from me, that is.” Barb felt Hunter’s hand squeeze her shoulder. “Then maybe our wedding reception isn’t the most appropriate place for you to be right now.” Hunter’s words were

calm, but his voice sounded threatening, almost a growl. Angel laughed. “Hunter, I can’t believe you’re being so rude to your guest. I invited Kevin to be my date today. Since he knows the bride so much better than either you or I.” “I think you should leave,” Jesse Sullivan’s voice broke through Barb’s silence. The words she’d wanted to say but couldn’t make her voice work. She felt trapped. She looked up at Jesse and realized all four of her guys were

surrounding her and Hunter. A united front. Protecting her. “Barbie owes me a dance. We never danced at our wedding, did we?” Kevin reached for her hand. “We had more important things to do. Right, honey?” Barb pulled her hand out of Kevin’s grasp. His touch after all these years still made her feel dirty. Fear she hadn’t felt since she’d closed the door on this chapter of her life overwhelmed her. “Don’t

touch me. I told you if you ever came back you’d regret it.” “Now, honey, that sounds like a threat.” Kevin’s eyes gleamed and he took a step closer. That was all Jesse and the boys needed. All of a sudden, Kevin was being dragged out of the yard, two men on his arms and two with his legs. Angel smiled. “This isn’t over. I understand you are kind of a financial black widow. Marrying men just to get ahead in your

career. What agreement do you have with Hunter, I wonder?” “Get out, Angel. And don’t expect to see Kati until the hearing. You’re not going to win.” Hunter stepped between Angel and Barb. “And take the trash you brought with you. I think the guys have dropped him off at the curb, where he belongs.” Angel looked around Hunter and caught Barb’s eyes. “Just remember, I get to present my side of the case too. And maybe you’re

not the upstanding citizen you pretend to be. Believe me, missy, I can find enough people to testify that you’re just as bad as the trash you hang around with.” “Leave now, or I’ll call the cops.” “I’m going.” Angel smiled again. “For now.” Barb watched the woman literally skip out of the yard. The music had died down, the band was packing up, and the remainder of the guests had been watching their

little show. Probably why Angel had waited to arrive, for maximum impact. She looked up at Hunter. “Look, we need to talk.” He turned toward her. His face hard, his eyes cold. “Not now. I don’t want to hear this now. Just make sure you’re at the hearing on Friday. You can stay at your mom’s, right?” “Hunter, that’s not fair. Kevin’s a piece of crap. He’s the man who wants to be the quarterback throwing the fourth down pass,

winning the game. No matter that the trick fails nine-point-seven-five times out of ten. He thought he was that point-two-five percent in bull riding. Another Jesse, but without the work. I was just a stepping stone in his path to glory.” “None of that matters right now. I just need to do some damage control before the hearing.” Hunter asked his question again. “So you can stay at your mom’s?” “I take it I’m not welcome at your house?” Barb’s voice came out

steadier than she’d thought. He glanced around at the crowd that still watched the bride and groom and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Seriously? You know I need you for the court hearing. And you give Angel the one thing that could blow up in my face. Without telling me there’s even a Kevin out there.” Hunter shook his head. “Kati can’t go live with that woman, no matter what I have to do to make sure I keep custody.” “But … ” Barb started.

Hunter cut her off. “I mean it, Barb. Just make sure your story is solid for the judge. I don’t even want to know if it’s true or just another lie.” “I’ll be at the hearing. But, Hunter, Kevin didn’t tell you the entire story.” Barb put her hand on her husband’s arm. Or her husband for now. The dream she’d been living had been destroyed by a past she couldn’t change. “Don’t. Just don’t.” Hunter shook off her hand then headed

toward the bar. Kati met him halfway and he scooped the little girl up into his arms as they walked away. Barb sank into her chair as she watched her family disappear. She’d been a fool to think Hunter had any intention of continuing her tenure as Mrs. Martin past the hearing date. He’d been using her. Just like she’d used him to get her mom placed at Countryside. She felt a hand on her shoulder.

Brushing back the tears she didn’t realize were falling, she looked up. Jesse stood there, concern for her on his face. “Bad day?” “The worst.” Barb glanced around the reception. “Where are James and Lizzie?” “They left just as we were dumping that piece of shit Kevin out on the driveway.” Jesse grinned. “I’m in charge of you.” “Excuse me?” Barb’s head was fuzzy from the champagne and the

fight. She blew her nose on a napkin, patting her face dry. No more tears. Not now, not ever. “Lizzie went into labor. The twins are coming. I’m driving you to the hospital.” Jesse looked at her dress. “You have something a little more casual?” “Upstairs. Give me a second and I’ll be ready.” Barb let Jesse help her out of the chair and they walked together to the house. She turned for a second before she went through the door and saw Hunter

watching her. Watching her leave with Jesse Sullivan. Hunter blinked first and turned back to the bar, a beer in his hand.

Chapter 14 Hunter closed Kati’s bedroom door. Three bedtime stories later, and she was still questioning him about when Barb was coming home. He didn’t know how long the story Lizzie needed her help with the twins was going to hold water. He’d dropped off her suitcase at the hospital yesterday after receiving a call from Jesse.

He’d been prepared to apologize, to at least see where her head was, to talk, but he hadn’t had the chance. Jesse had been waiting in the lobby to meet him. “Dude, she doesn’t want to see you.” Jesse’s tone was kind, and there was a touch of, what, sympathy, in the man’s eyes? “I screwed up. I just reacted when Kevin showed up.” Hunter shook his head. “I don’t know what we’re supposed to be. Who we’re supposed to be.”

“Barb’s always been a hard nut to crack.” Jesse’s phone went off. “Look, I have to get back but this thing with Kevin wasn’t Barb’s fault. That lying sack of shit set her up to help his career. I wouldn’t doubt if he’d drugged her.” “You’re kidding me.” Anger flooded into Hunter’s body, his hands clenching involuntarily. “Nothing I can prove, just something I’ve heard from more than one of his past conquests. Barb had just quit as his manager. Then

they show up the next morning married? I’m not the sharpest tool in the shed, but I know a snow job.” Jesse’s phone buzzed again. “Look, I’ve got to go. The little guys are having some issues.” And with that, Jesse Sullivan took Barb’s overnight bag and turned and went into the hospital. Hunter had wanted to follow. Wanted to stand by Barb and help her through Lizzie’s pain, but it wasn’t his place. Hell, they were

married, but he’d screwed up even the fake relationship they’d had. Sitting in the dark kitchen, a cup of coffee in his hand, he tried to replay the reception in his mind. Hunter wondered if Barb had felt the magic of the day like he had. Sunday, he’d been a newly married groom. And damned if he hadn’t planned on showing Barb that he wanted to continue their relationship long after the custody hearing was finalized. They’d felt like a family. The curve of her cheek

when she laughed made him want to reach out and cradle her face in his hands. Then Angel had brought in Kevin to ruin the moment. And instead of Hunter taking the time to play knight in shining armor, he’d let Jesse Sullivan and the other rodeo crowd save Barb. He’d just stood there and let her disappear. The doorbell rang. Glancing at the wall clock, Hunter frowned. His dad wouldn’t

show up after nine, especially on a weekday. Probably a neighbor kid. Swinging open the door, he was surprised to see a grinning Kevin Flavin. A very drunk Kevin, leaning against the wall of the entryway. “Is Barbie home?” Kevin leered around Hunter. “You two still playing house?” “What do you want?” Hunter’s voice was cold. “The girl owes me. I’ve come to collect. Especially since she’s come into some money.” Kevin opened

his arms, motioning to the house. “That sister-in-law of yours wants to stiff me, won’t pay me what I deserve for my testimony, so I thought I’d give Barbs a chance to buy my services.” “Angel was paying you?” Hunter leaned against the doorway. This was getting better and better. “Not much. I told her I have expenses, but the witch just laughed. She said I could walk right now and the damage had already been done.” Kevin pulled up a half-

empty longneck bottle and took a sip. “She told me to go away.” Hunter thought about Jesse’s suspicions. “Kevin, did you drug Barb when she married you?” Kevin’s eyes narrowed. “Somebody’s been talking out of school.” He took a second swig of beer. “Ah, hell, it doesn’t matter now, does it? Barb was dead asleep when we were getting married. I found a stripper who was her double, except maybe in bed. Man, that girl was flexible. Of course,

since Miss Priss wouldn’t let me do her, I can’t compare the two.” “You faked the wedding?” “Let’s say ‘staged.’ It sounds less criminal.” Kevin laughed. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Barb never believed me or the pictures. She passed me on to a new manager, got a quickie annulment, and never even calls on our anniversary.” “You’re lucky she didn’t press charges.” Hunter could smell the man now. Several days on this

bender if the smell of alcohol and sweat could be measured. “Barb’s not like that. Besides, she liked me.” Kevin laughed. “So what do you say? You ready to give me a new offer?” “Get off my porch and leave town. Never come back.” Kevin nodded. “I can do that. What’s my cut?” “I won’t press charges for trespassing and fraud.” Confusion filled Kevin’s face. “I don’t understand.”

“I hope you didn’t spend all the money Angel gave you up front, because you’re going to need enough to buy a bus ticket out of town. If I see you around here or bothering Barb again, I’m going to press charges. And make sure Barb does as well.” Hunter looked at the man standing on his porch. “You’re going to regret this.” “There’s a lot of things I regret, but kicking you off my property isn’t one of them.” Hunter pointed

to the road. “I’ve give you till the count of ten to get walking.” Kevin stumbled off the porch. “No one gives me a damn bit of respect anymore.” Hunter watched the man until he reached the street. Kevin lobbed the empty beer bottle toward the house, but the bottle landed short, in the middle of the yard. “Jerk,” Hunter muttered before closing the door. He’d let Angel get under his skin. He let her cast doubts in his

mind about Barb. Doubts she didn’t deserve and he never should have expressed. And now she was gone. Hunter turned off the lights, checking the locks on the windows and doors. His momma didn’t raise no fool. Even though Kevin had appeared to walk off, it didn’t mean that the man wouldn’t double back. Hunter sat in the living room, lights off for a long time that night. Thinking about a future without worrying about a past.

••• “Why don’t you come back to Shawnee with us?” Lizzie folded clothes into her bag from the closet of the small hospital room. “You look like you could use some sleep. You can have one of the cabins, and you may not even hear the boys cry at night.” Barb smiled, looking down at one of the twins she cradled in her arms. Robbie. She was kind of sure the baby she held was Robbie, but

how Lizzie told the two boys apart, Barb still didn’t know. Alex slept, already in the car seat. “As tempting as that sounds, I think I’m going to stay in town for a while. I’m heading out with the boys on Friday and I’d like to spend as much time with Mom as possible.” Lizzie sank on the bed. “He’s not going to change his mind and come running to your side, apologizing for his bad behavior.” “Who?” Barb didn’t even look up.

Lizzie sat on the bed and stared. “You know Kevin wasn’t your fault. Nothing that man says is true even when you ask him the time.” Barb stroked Robbie’s cheek, trying to keep tears from filling her eyes. “I let myself get in that situation. I trusted him.” “And you’re not the first woman to trust what a man says. Kevin planned the whole thing from the beginning — get you as his manager by hook or crook, and his

no talent butt would start being thrown from better bulls in better rodeos.” Lizzie patted her friend’s shoulder. “The only thing you did wrong was trust him. And maybe fall for a jerk.” “Mom always said I could pick the bad boy out of the church choir. I guess Kevin proved her true.” “Your mama’s one to talk. Look, I know we don’t speak ill of the ill, so to speak, but that woman put you through some hell growing up.” Lizzie gazed at her son in

Barb’s arms. “I hope if James dies young I don’t go off the deep end like Lorraine did. My boys will just have to shoot me.” Barb smiled. “She wasn’t that bad.” Lizzie shot her a look. “Okay, she was that bad, but I had your parents to use as role models.” Barb smiled at the memories of growing up with Lizzie as her best friend. That’s when she learned how to pretend, how to make her life seem normal, just like

Lizzie’s. And up until Kevin, she’d been good at playing pretend, in her career and love life. She was the ultimate manager. She kept all the plates spinning for her clients. And it was that fantasy woman that Kevin had latched onto and why he had been determined to have her. Not the first time she’d been chased. Just the first time she’d been drugged. Hell, she knew the marriage to Kevin had been a farce. She’d even seen the tapes of that woman

standing in for her. A striking redhead with boobs three times her size. No one, or at least no woman, would mistake her for the bride on the tape. So when Kevin had blackmailed her, she’d sent him on his merry way with a new manager and ten percent of what he’d asked for. As long as he’d signed the annulment papers and never darkened her door again. Well, he’d blown both of those opportunities. His new manager had fired him after one season and

with Kevin showing up at the reception, Barb was pretty sure she should get a refund on the door darkening promise. “Face it, not everything is your fault or under your control,” Lizzie said. “You’re messing with my inner vision. Super bitch.” Barb smiled. “The cradling of a new infant kind of already killed that image. Sorry.” Lizzie put her arm around Barb. “Things will work out. If

Hunter’s the one, he’ll realize he’s an idiot and come crawling back.” And that’s exactly what I’m worried about. Instead of responding, she gently rocked the baby, trying to get him to sleep. Finally she looked up at her friend. “Why would I want that?” “Sure, play dumb. Are you sure staying here’s a good idea? You’re not going to go all stalker on his butt, are you?” Lizzie reached for Robbie. “Let me bundle this guy up and get him settled.”

“When have I ever gone crazy about a guy?” Barb handed the baby over to his mother. Lizzie shook her head. “Do we have to talk about Larry again?” “I was fourteen. And besides, you helped me follow him around that summer.” Barb grabbed her purse. “I’ve got to get home. I told Kati I’d make her cupcakes for school tomorrow.” Lizzie just looked at her. Barb lifted her hand. “I swear this is the last time. I promised her

and I’m not going to back out of a promise.” Lizzie hugged her hard. “All I can say is the boys couldn’t have a better godmother.” ••• Two hours later, Barb had the first batch of marble devil’s food cupcakes in the oven at her mom’s house. She’d bake them tonight, then frost them first thing in the morning. She could drop them off at the school by ten and still have

some left to take to her mother for her daily visit. Barb hadn’t done this much baking since the summer before she’d left Shawnee for college. No matter what big dreams she’d told Lizzie, inside, she’d been scared to death that summer. Scared to move from the little town where she’d always lived to a big city where she’d be stuck in a dorm room with three other girls she’d never even met. Lorraine, on the other hand, had seen going to college as a big

adventure. And she’d wanted to follow Barb on the adventure. More than once that summer, her mom had laid down a not-so-subtle plan to move with Barb. They could rent a house near the college. Go to football games together. Barb could even invite her friends over. It would be like their own sorority. The woman had been crushed when Barb had told her no, she was staying in a dorm. Now, she wondered if she’d done the right thing. If she’d known her mother

would leave so soon, maybe she would have made a different choice. But Barb hadn’t known. And after college, she’d bought the condo in San Francisco, started her new business with the money her grandmother had left her and sent cards and flowers to her mother for holidays. Dutiful daughter duties through a good florist and the U.S. Postal Service. Barb glanced around the kitchen, suddenly worn out. The clock on the stove read ten P.M. It

would be close to eleven by the time she got both batches baked. She wished she were baking in Hunter’s kitchen. A glass of wine on the table, and Hunter there, making her laugh. Maybe licking the beaters from the blender. Barb shook her head. No use crying over spilt milk or vodka, as Lorraine used to say. At least Barb had had a family for a week. A week she’d always remember. She started cleaning up the mess she’d made. By the time the

last of the cupcakes were out of the oven, Mom’s kitchen was clean and shiny. Barb turned off the lights and headed to the guest room. Two days more, then she could return to her real life. The life on the road chasing after bull riders who liked to pretend they were more child than man. Smiling pretty for the sponsors like Adam, hoping for the big score. And forgetting she even knew how to bake. And Kati. And Hunter.

Chapter 15 The schoolyard was quiet when Hunter pulled his truck into the last long parking spot way at the end of the lot. He’d had to go to five different bakeries to find thirty cupcakes in chocolate with chocolate frosting. Most of the clerks just stared when he asked. Or given him the standard, “Large orders like that need a minimum of forty-eight hours prior notice.”

So sorry, he wanted to scream. My niece didn’t tell me until this morning that my fake wife had promised to bring cupcakes for morning treat. Finally, he’d found a bakery that had had a no-show on an order, and they’d cobbled together twenty-eight chocolate and two vanilla cupcakes with chocolate frosting. Maybe, he’d be lucky and no one would point out that small discrepancy to Kati. The kid had been withdrawn and quiet since Sunday. This

morning, she’d seemed almost giddy to get to school. When Hunter had finally gotten her to tell him why, his heart had seized. What if Barb didn’t remember her promise to Kati? What if she did remember and just decided not to keep it? Hunter hadn’t tried to call her, hadn’t tried to get her side of the Kevin story, hadn’t even tried to keep her from leaving with Jesse Sullivan. He’d been stupid. And he hadn’t told her that, either.

Now he was carrying five boxes of cupcakes into school so Kati wouldn’t be disappointed. Again. He fumbled for the door handle, his fingertips just reaching the metal when he felt it open against him. “Thanks,” he muttered to the unseen assistant. He made his way down the hall to the office window where he put the stacked boxes down and looked up at the clerk. “I’m here to visit Kati Martin, she’s in second grade.”

“Mrs. Hannon’s class. Yes, I know.” The clerk nodded to her left. “This woman was just about to go that way, do you want to follow her?” He turned. Barb stood next to him, a box of cupcakes in her hand. “Bakery? Hunter, I’m shocked. Kati specifically said she wanted homemade cupcakes.” Barb laughed, the sound tinny in his ears. “Why are you here? I thought, well, I thought you’d be back in

Shawnee.” With Jesse, he wanted to add. Instead, he added, “With Lizzie and the boys.” Barb searched his face, but he wasn’t sure what she was looking for. Finally, she broke eye contact. “Kati asked me for cupcakes. I don’t break my word.” Hunter wanted to say, since when? But he knew he was just poking the bear. And, as his mama had always said, a wounded bear was dangerous. Instead he held up

the white bakery boxes. “What am I going to do with thirty cupcakes?” Barb laughed again, this time the laugh more solid, more Barb sounding. “You’re at a school full of kids. I’m sure some class would like a morning treat.” The office clerk glanced at the boxes on the counter. “Actually, we can’t just give food out to the students, they all have special instructions, but I could put them in the teachers’ lounge. I’m sure

they’ll get eaten. We don’t usually have many leftovers around here.” “Happy Teachers’ day then.” Hunter pushed the boxes toward the woman. Looking at Barb, he nodded. “Can I help you deliver? Or do you want to do this by yourself?” Barb seemed to consider the offer, then her shoulder’s sagged. “Sure, why not.” Not exactly the response he’d hoped for, but he’d take it. “Look, we need to talk.”

“Not here. And definitely not now.” Barb didn’t even turn to look at him. A few minutes later when they got to the classroom door, he saw her paste on a smile. This was hard for her, he could tell. Kati was out of her chair as soon as they walked in. Hugging Barb around the legs, she whispered loud enough for Hunter to hear, “I knew you’d come.” Hunter felt like a hand was squeezing his heart. He’d put Kati

in this position, counting on a woman who after tomorrow wouldn’t be in her life. He couldn’t make the same mistake again. Kati deserved better. He cleared his throat. “Don’t I even rate a hello?” Kati smiled at him, erasing all his doubt. The girl was happy and, by God, he’d do anything to keep her that way. “Hello, Uncle Hunter.” The teacher came to stand next to Kati. “I’m Mrs. Hannon. We’re so

glad to have you visit our class today.” Barb seemed to freeze so Hunter stepped in. “Kati asked Barb to bring cupcakes, I hope this is a good time.” The teacher smoothed down Kati’s blond hair. Kati had pulled off the ponytail Hunter had put in her hair that morning. So much for his grooming tips for the second grader. “This is an excellent time. Kati, why don’t you hand out the cupcakes with a napkin while I talk

to your aunt and uncle in the hallway?” This can’t be good, Hunter thought. But he followed the two women out into the hall. “What’s wrong, is Kati all right?” Barb’s words rushed at the teacher as soon as the door closed. “Kati’s fine. Well, at least she’s better than I’ve seen her since the accident. Up until this last week, but she’d been quiet, withdrawn, like she was in some kind of shell. I was going to call you soon and see if

you had her in counseling.” She nodded to Hunter. “Her teacher from last year and I are friends. She tells me Kati was a completely different girl before the accident.” Hunter ran his fingers through his hair. “I know it’s been rough on her. I have her going once a week to a counselor. Do you think it should be more?” “No, definitely not. Not now. She’s so different since she came back from being sick. Her eyes are bright, she’s talking and reading,

and I’ve even seen her eat. I don’t think she’s ever eaten anything in class or at lunch that I’ve seen. Yesterday, I saw her finish her tray.” Mrs. Hannon smiled. “Of course it was pizza day, so that helps our picky eaters.” “I’m glad to hear she’s adjusting.” Barb’s voice was almost a whisper. “Whatever the two of you are doing, keep it up.” The teacher held the door open. “Do you want to stay

for story time? We’re reading Alice in Wonderland.” Barb shook her head. “I’m due over at the assisted living.” “I’ve got to get to work,” Hunter said at the same time. He looked at Barb and smiled, then directed his comment to the teacher. “Tell Kati I’ll see her tonight.” “Okay.” The teacher paused at the door and frowned. “Is there something I should know?”

“Kati’s custody hearing is tomorrow. I’m sure she’ll stay with me, but a maternal aunt is trying to change that.” Hunter put his hand on Barb’s arm. “We’re confident that the hearing is just a formality.” The teacher looked at Hunter and Barb. Waiting for the next shoe to drop, Hunter thought. Then she sighed. “For Kati’s sake, I hope you’re right.” When the door closed, Hunter turned to Barb. “That went well.”

“Look, maybe after the hearing I could keep in touch with Kati. Take her out after school a day or so.” Barb looked like she was going to cry. “That’s not part of the bargain.” “I don’t want her hurt in this.” Barb looked down at Hunter’s hand still resting on her arm. He’d forgotten it too, and quickly pulled away. “Barb, we need to talk. I don’t want Kati hurt, either, but … ”

Barb didn’t let him finish. “I’ll be at the courthouse tomorrow at eight.” Hunter watched as the woman he loved, his wife for the moment, sprinted down the hallway and out the door. She couldn’t get away from him fast enough. ••• “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” Barb muttered as she pulled her car away from the school. How could she have been so stupid? All she wanted

to do was drop off the cupcakes, say goodbye to Kati, and after tomorrow, she’d have no ties to Kati or Hunter. Now, she was offering to pick Kati up a couple nights a week? Thank God she hadn’t offered in front of the girl. She could call Hunter tonight and rescind the offer. Or better yet, tell him after the hearing tomorrow. He would be so happy about gaining custody, he wouldn’t care that she was bailing on him. On Kati.

Back and forth, she played out the best way to cut the strings. Finally as she parked in front of the assisted living home, she’d come up with one surefire way to not get sucked in again. She’d send him a letter. Clean, yet personal. And the best part? He couldn’t watch her with those eyes and make her want to commit more. Dropping off a plate of cupcakes at the nurses’ desk, she took a few and headed to her mom’s room.

“Mom?” She knocked quietly and peeked her head in the room. Her mother was sitting on the couch, going through the photo album again. When she heard Barb’s voice she looked toward the door. “Barbara?” Barb swept into the room, her plastic smile already at full power. Her mom looked confused, tentative. “I brought you a treat.” Lorraine smiled, and patted the couch. “Come sit down. Where’s that granddaughter of mine?”

Barbara let her smile drop for just a second as she sat next to her mother, placing the small tower of cupcakes on the coffee table. She took her mother’s hand. “You know she’s not really your granddaughter, right?” “You’re married to her uncle. That child has no one but the two of you. So no matter what, she’s my granddaughter. Just the way it needs to be.” Lorraine pointed to the coffee carafe siting on the table.

“You want coffee? There are some extra cups over on the bookcase.” Barb winced but stood and grabbed a cup. Pouring the coffee, the smell of dark roasted beans filled the small room. She topped off her mother’s cup, then slipped back on the couch. “What if I wasn’t married to her uncle anymore?” Her mother gave her a sharp look. “Barb, I may be confused most of the time, but right now, I’m in my right mind. I wonder if you are.” “If I am what?”

“In your right mind? I’ve never seen you so happy as when that young man walked in here the other day.” Barb started to say her mom was wrong, but Lorraine made a shushing noise. “Let me finish. I haven’t been the best role model for the way a woman should get by in this world. After your dad died, I didn’t want to commit again, to anyone. I didn’t want to lose someone I cared about again. So I kept it casual. And that

was my loss. Mine and yours. I should have married again, lived a full life. If I’d known my brain would betray me, that I would be the one leaving, I might have made a different decision.” Lorraine paused, tears filling her eyes. “You did what you had to do.” Barb patted her hand. “I don’t blame you for anything. Besides, you’re getting better. Stronger.” “Calm before the storm, we both know it.” Lorraine swallowed. “Don’t regret your life, Barb. And if

you run away from this man and his little girl, you’ll regret it. I can see it in your eyes. You’re in love.” Barb winced. Her mom was right. She was in love. With both Hunter and Kati. With what could be their life. But what her mom didn’t know was that the life was just a shell. A storefront window display of what a marriage should be. She might have bought the fantasy, but as soon as the hearing was over tomorrow, Hunter would be handing her the annulment

papers and a pen. She handed her mom a cupcake and then took one for herself. “Even if you’re right, I can’t change what’s happening. Contracts have been made, and now I just have to live up to my part of the deal.” Her mother didn’t respond. Barb looked up and watched Lorraine take a bite of the cupcake, seeming to enjoy the chocolate on chocolate taste. When she’d finished, she wiped her mouth with a napkin and took a

sip of coffee. Then she turned to Barb. “Sometimes, what you think must happen doesn’t. And sometimes, what you want to happen, does. You need to open yourself up to the positive, Barb. Believe in your marriage. A little girl is counting on you.” “And sometimes, what you want is out of your reach.” Barb’s voice cracked. Her mom pulled her into a hug. “I’m here for you. Believe, honey, believe.”

Barb set her jaw, not wanting to cry. She melted into her mom’s arms and just stayed there. Drinking in the smell of her perfume, of her shampoo. Trying to seal this memory in her mind forever. “I’ll try. I’ll really try.”

Chapter 16 “I’ll pick you up from school right after lunch. So meet me in front right at one. Your teacher knows about the hearing.” Hunter sat a bowl of chocolate covered cereal in front of Kati. “You want some orange juice?” “Yes, please.” Kati took a big bite of the cereal, the milk already taking on the chocolate from the flakes. “The kids in the class loved

Barb’s cupcakes. Even snotty Sara. She never likes anything.” “I’m glad. Barb will be glad too. Make sure you thank her when you see her today.” Hunter stared into the open refrigerator. Barb. After today, her part of the agreement would be done and he’d have to sign the annulment papers that sat in his briefcase. The woman had spent less than a week in his house and only one night in his bed, yet he could see her everywhere. He

grabbed the juice container and poured Kati’s glass. “Next weekend Claire is going to start training me for competition. Do you think I’ll have to jump?” Kati’s mind had wandered to a new topic, thank the lord. “Probably not for a couple years.” Hunter sat the glass on the table. “I’ll talk to her Saturday about what you should expect. That way you don’t have to worry about anything, just riding.”

“Mom said never worry today about tomorrow.” Kati didn’t look up from her bowl. “Good advice.” Hunter sank back into his chair. “Is Barb coming back?” Hunter sighed. “I don’t know.” He watched Kati drink the chocolate milk out of her bowl, then finish off the juice. “My dad left once,” Kati said. Hunter frowned. He hadn’t known his brother had left his

perfect family alone even for one night. “He did?” Kati nodded. “A few weeks before the accident. Mom and him were yelling about some girl at his office. Mom started crying and locked herself in her room. Dad got on his motorcycle and left. I made myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.” There was more to this relationship thing with kids around. Hunter hadn’t realized how much

they understood. Bringing Barb home had been a mistake. Wrong, a voice in his head corrected him. Letting her leave had been the mistake. He shook the voice away and focused on Kati. “Were you scared?” “Kind of. Most of the kids in my class have two sets of parents. Sara says you get more gifts that way. But I wanted Daddy to come home. And he did.” Kati slipped off the seat and gave Hunter a kiss on the cheek. “I’m leaving for school.

Maybe if you ask real nice, Barb will come home too.” And maybe pigs would fly. “Remember, I’ll see you right after your lunch period. Make sure you bring home your work so you don’t get behind.” Hunter watched Kati as she walked to the front door, Bella in tow. She leaned down and hugged the little dog, whispering something in her ear. Then she waved and left. How had his life changed this much? How’d he gone from playboy

about town to father of the year in less than six months? Having Barb around was like playing house except they were both grown up and could indulge themselves in other activities. Too bad she didn’t want the life he was offering. He took the dishes to the sink and rinsed them, slipping them into the dishwasher. One more hurdle and he could claim the father of the year trophy. All he had to do was make sure the judge granted him full custody over Kati.

Then his real life could begin. ••• Barb walked up the courthouse steps. “Just get through today, and tomorrow you can fly out to Cody, Wyoming, and forget this chapter of your life ever happened.” A lady walking next to her turned and stared. Barb pointed to her Bluetooth. She could get away with talking to herself like a crazy person since she’d bought the earpiece. Even if

she didn’t point it out, people would glance and then go their merry way, convinced that the woman with the shopping cart wasn’t a crazy person let loose in the latest round of budget cuts at the state hospital. The lady blushed and sprinted up the stairs. OMG, she thought she was eavesdropping. Priceless. Barb thought about the romantic comedy movie marathon, half gallon of vanilla almond surprise in the freezer, and a bottle of her favorite

white zinfandel chilling in the fridge. She was going to head directly to her favorite Chinese restaurant for take-out when she left here, then lock herself in the bedroom for a mammoth size pity party. She’d allow herself twentyfour hours, no more. Once the clock chimed three P.M. tomorrow, she would be over Hunter Martin. And if she wasn’t? “Fake it till you make it” was one of her favorite quotations.

Barb thought she was going to have to do a lot of faking for a while. She took the stairs up to the third floor where the family judges had their courtrooms. Turning left down the hall, she saw Hunter and Kati sitting outside a courtroom on a bench. Kati looked at her and sprinted to meet her. “Barb, I’m so glad you’re here. You should come home. Uncle Hunter’s very sad. He cries every night now.” Kati glanced at Hunter.

“But don’t tell him I told you. He might get mad.” She was an amazing manipulator for seven. Barb had to give that to her. “I won’t say a word. But I’ve got to head to Wyoming this weekend. The boys kind of took a play day last weekend and they need me to whip them in shape.” Kati giggled. “I don’t think you’re big enough to whip a bull rider. Especially Jesse. He’s pretty tall.”

“You know what they say, don’t you?” Kati frowned. “No?” “The taller they are, the harder they fall.” Barb put her arm around the little girl. Kati she would miss. A lot. “That’s not what they say.” Kati giggled again. “It’s not? Well, there’s no way Jesse Sullivan is getting the best of me. He’ll be on that bull Sunday and winning if I have to tie him to the saddle.” Barb smiled at Hunter

who had stood to greet her. “Are we early?” “According to the bailiff, the judge is running a little late. I’ve checked us in, though. They like to know which parties are on time and which ones may take advantage of the judge being busy.” He sat on the bench. “Sit, we might as well be comfortable while we wait.” Barb scanned the hallway before she sat. Lots of people, but no Angel. “I figured Kati’s aunt would be here.”

Hunter scanned the hallway as well. “So far, no sign of her. I wonder if she’s having problems finding her star witness?” Barb slipped onto the bench next to him. Sighing, she leaned her head against the wall. “Please tell me you didn’t do anything to Kevin.” “Would you care?” “About Kevin, no, but you don’t need to give him more ammunition. Poke a tame dog enough times with

a stick and he’ll bite. And Kevin’s not trained in the least.” Hunter patted her leg in what would have felt like a friendly gesture except he left his hand resting on her thigh way too long. Her gaze couldn’t leave his hand. “Kevin paid me a visit. He wanted you to pay him on his blackmail scheme. I told him to leave you alone. So if he comes back, you call the cops. Or call me. I’ll take care of him.” Hunter’s voice was cold.

Before Barb could ask another question, or even formulate one in her mind, a slender woman in a police type uniform stepped out of the courtroom. “Mr. Martin? The judge would like to see you and your family in chambers. This way.” Barb followed Hunter and Kati. Her stomach fluttered. This couldn’t be good. Maybe the hearing had been postponed? Her heart leapt at the chance to stay married to Hunter, even if it was just for a week more.

When they entered the office, the bailiff motioned to the couch near the window. The judge was on the phone and had his back to the three of them. Hunter’s lawyer sat in a wing chair. He nodded to Barb then whispered something to Hunter. His eyebrows scrunched as he squinted at the lawyer. Barb leaned closer to try to pick out their words with no luck. She searched for the man’s name from when they’d been introduced on Sunday. Chance? No, Chase.

No, this didn’t feel good at all. “Well, let’s get started, shall we?” The judge slipped into the other wing chair facing the couch. “Kati, I’m Judge Patterson. Do you know why we’re here today?” “My aunt wants me to live with her instead of Uncle Hunter,” Kati responded. “Exactly.” The judge turned to Chase. “Does the child have a lawyer?” “I’m representing both Mr. Martin and Kati,” Chase answered.

The judge looked at Chase for a long minute, then sighed. “I would have liked the child’s interest to be separate from the uncle’s, but I guess at this point, that doesn’t matter.” Barb felt like she was watching a tennis match. But no game she’d ever saw. She felt like there was more said than what she understood, but she kept quiet. “Kati,” the judge turned his attention back to the little girl.

“Where do you want to live? With your uncle or your aunt?” “With Uncle Hunter. Tony’s mean.” She looked at Barb and smiled. “Who’s Tony?” The judge glanced down at his file. “The husband?” “Her cousin,” Chase said. “He’s Angel and Fred Monnet’s son.” The judge smiled. “Oh, so you don’t like Tony?” “He pinches me. And then laughs when I cry. And he drinks

beer.” Kati glanced at Barb and her look told Barb she thought she’d scored the winning volley. “Does he now?” The judge leaned back in his chair. “Why do you like living with your uncle?” “He brushes my hair for school, even though I have to redo most of the ponytails. He lets me take riding lessons on a real horse, and he reads to me before we go to sleep. And he married Barb.” Kati cuddled closer to Barb. “I like Barb a lot. And I like visiting with her mom.

She’s in a home because she forgets things. But she remembers me.” Barb’s heart sank but she smiled and hugged Kati. “Kati, would you mind going with Amanda for a soda? She’ll take you down to the break room so the grownups can talk for a bit.” The judge nodded to the bailiff who must be Amanda. Kati looked at Barb. “You’ll be here when I get back?” “Yes, for a while. I don’t fly out until tomorrow.” Barb’s tongue felt

swollen in her mouth. Kati stood and walked out of the room with Amanda. Barb felt the judge’s glance on her. She knew she was up next on the hot seat, just by the way he looked at her. And she wasn’t wrong. “Miss Carico, or Mrs. Martin, I guess is the more appropriate term.” The judge focused on the papers in front of him. Barb cut him off. “Barb is fine.”

The judge raised his eyebrows, but continued. “So, Barb, tell me about your arrangement with Mr. Martin. Is it true he paid for you to marry him?” “You don’t have to answer that,” Chase advised Barb. “Judge, I hardly see how my client’s marital arrangement has anything to do with these proceedings.” “Mrs. Monnet thought it had everything to do with the proceedings. In fact she told me that she’d brought in Barb’s ex-

husband to prove a pattern of marriages that seemed to be advantageous to the bride. Although, I don’t see what, if anything, Miss Carico got out of the first marriage, besides just out.” The judge fumbled through his papers. “This Kevin Flavin seems to be a man skirting the edge of the law in many fronts.” “Kevin has had his issues. And I didn’t marry him to get something. He married me because

I wouldn’t agree to be his manager.” Barb felt heat on her face. “Yet you married him?” the judge prodded. “It’s a long story. We’d been drinking with a group and the next morning, he showed up with a marriage license and pictures.” Barb hung her head. “Believe me, I’ve regretted it since it happened.” “You didn’t marry him,” Hunter spoke up. Barb smiled sadly. “I was drunk and stupid. I let my guard down and

he took advantage of me.” Hunter interrupted. “He drugged you. You were asleep in your bed when he married a look alike.” “How do you know that? I mean, I suspected, but no one’s ever been able to prove anything.” “Kevin has a big mouth and likes to brag.” Hunter looked at the judge. “Barb was being blackmailed by the jerk. I told him to leave town and leave her alone.”

“Yes, Mrs. Monnet said she suspected as much.” The judge focused on Hunter. “Of course, she thought your motives were to ruin her custody case. She didn’t realize her financial audit had already disqualified her from being Kati’s guardian based on the terms of your brother and sister-in-law’s will. They must have suspected there would be some fighting over the trust.” “So Angel can’t get custody?” Barb’s smile brightened. “No matter

what?” “In order to gain custody, one of the guiding factors for custody is the custodial guardian must be financially solvent. Mr. Martin’s audit came back perfect. Now, you, on the other hand, you’re up to your eyeballs in debt, but it seems to be all around your mother’s medical bills and your business. Not a gambling habit.” The judge closed the file and tossed it on to the small coffee table. “Nothing left for me to

do but sign off on the custody order.” Hunter glanced at the file. “Angel has a gambling habit?” “Sorry, that’s confidential.” The judge looked at Chase. “Your office should be getting the final papers next week.” “Thank you.” Hunter stood, pulling Barb up off the couch with him. “You’ve made a little girl very happy.” “I just hope you know what you’ve signed up for, Mr. Martin.

Raising a child, even in a two parent household,” the judge stared at Barb then continued, “isn’t easy. At times, my three daughters made me want to run screaming from the house and never return. But the rewards are worth it, if you can get past all the heartache.” “Kati and I will do just fine.” Hunter nodded at Chase. “Thanks, bro.” The three of them walked into the hall together, but for some reason, Barb felt like they’d lost

instead of won. She should be happy for Kati, for Hunter. But she felt numb. “Miss Carico? I have annulment papers for you to sign. Hunter had me put in a clause stating he will cover your mom’s residential costs as long as she needs care.” Chase shook his head and stared pointedly at Hunter. “A very generous offer.” “Hunter, I swear, as soon as I’m able to sell the house, I’ll pay you back everything.” Barb dug in

her purse for a pen. “You don’t understand what this means for her, for me. I swear, she’s almost like her old self, before the memory losses.” “Barb, hold on a second.” Hunter put his hand on her arm. “Look at me.” Barb caught her breath as she looked up into those blue eyes. Eyes she could lose herself in if she didn’t control her emotions. She had gotten what she wanted, her mom was safe, Kati was safe, and

annulment papers were within reach. Once she signed them, the deal would be struck. Hunter paused, then jumped in. “I’d like you to stay, to move in. Kati loves you. We could be a real family.” Barb waited for the words she needed to hear. I love you. But Hunter was just looking at her. Waiting for her answer. She shook her head. “Sorry, I can’t. I love Kati like she was my own, but sometimes, a girl has to watch out

for herself and make the right decision. I’ll call next week when I’m back from Cody. Maybe I can take her shopping.” Barb watched Hunter’s face freeze. “Sure. Have a great weekend.” He walked away, aiming for Kati who had just appeared with the bailiff. When he reached the little girl, he swung her up into his arms and headed down the steps. Barb thought she heard Kati ask about her, but the sound in her ears made it impossible for her to

hear anything. Her heart pounded in her eardrum, trying to get her attention. She waved the nausea away and smiled at Chase. “Where do I sign?”

Chapter 17 Tears coursed down Barb’s cheeks. She sat cross legged on her mother’s couch, a glass of wine on the table and country music videos playing on the television. She felt numb. Lost, alone, and numb. So much for following her mother’s advice. Hunter had offered an olive branch. And she’d stepped on it. Crushing it into the dirt. And she’d signed the annulment papers.

She was never, ever even thinking about getting married again. The next time the boys had a rodeo in Vegas, she was staying home. Or staying away from liquor for the trip’s duration. Two impromptu marriages, two annulments. No wonder she liked country music — if she drove a truck and had a dog, she’d be a walking, talking country song. She took another sip of the wine and tried to focus on the contract that was in her lap. Martin

Dairy’s sponsorship of Jesse. Hell, Hunter had gone all out, sponsoring all her bull riders. Great, everywhere she looked for the next five years, she’d see Hunter Martin’s family business plastered on her clients. Every rodeo, a shirt advertising the dairy. On all four of her bull riders. She should turn down the sponsorship. Tear this contract up. Break all ties to Hunter Martin, his family, his business, and Kati.

She laid the contract on the table. She wasn’t going to turn it down. This one contract would pay for the expenses for the rest of the rodeos this year. And by the end of the five years, she’d have enough money saved up on her commission to pay her mother’s medical expenses herself, especially if she sold the house. And bottom line, it wasn’t fair to the bull riders to turn the contract down. James could deal with any promotional contact the

riders would be required of in order to fulfill the contract. James had a head for this kind of thing. And he wouldn’t want to tear off Hunter’s clothes and throw him down on the bed every time they met. Or at least she hoped not. A knock on the door broke up her mini pity party. She stood and looked down at the tank top and yoga pants she wore. Good enough for a door to door salesman, she decided.

When she opened the door, Jesse Sullivan stood there with a bottle of wine in one hand and a bag of Chinese food in the other. A twelve pack of beer sat on the porch next to him. “Happy annulment.” Jesse pushed past her into the living room. “Grab the beer, would ya?” Barb wiped tearstains off her face. She grabbed the carton and closed the door. “Jesse, why are you here?”

“Lizzie can’t be here so she made me come and stand in as your BFF tonight. I’m to listen and nod, and not say anything stupid. Or try to kiss you, even though in that get up you’re making that part of the bargain kind of easy. Did you even brush your hair today?” “Leave me alone.” Barb messed with her hair, pulling her hair tighter, then resetting the clip. “I don’t need anyone here babysitting me.”

“Now, Lizzie said you’d fight me, so I am supposed to put this into the DVD player.” He pulled out a worn copy of Sleepless in Seattle, her and Lizzie’s go-to movie. Barb slipped back onto the couch. “Okay, you can stay. Give me a box of fried rice.” Jesse handed her a box with a pair of chopsticks. Then he started the movie. As he grabbed a box of broccoli and beef, he held up the contract. “You got the sponsorship?”

“Divorce present from my ex.” Barb tried to smile. “You don’t have to accept this, you know.” Jesse thumbed through the pages. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s a huge contract. But we’ll be fine without it. I’m sure the other guys will feel the same.” “Don’t bet on it. Besides, if Hunter’s stupid enough to sponsor all of you guys, I’m not standing in his way. James can handle the touchy feely part of the agreement.”

Jesse sat the contract down and took a bite of his food. Without looking at her, he said, “Barb, you don’t have to be the successful manager all the time. You can just be Barb.” And that was where Jesse was wrong. She had to be a successful career woman. Frankly, that was all she had left. “Shut up and watch the movie.” Jesse smiled and leaned back. “Yes, ma’am.”

••• Hunter turned down the street to Lorraine’s house. According to the GPS in his truck, he should be close. “Is this the way to the ice cream shop?” Kati leaned forward in her seat, glancing out the windows. “It looks like just houses.” “Hold on, I wanted to check something.” Hunter didn’t want to get the kid’s hopes up. Barb might not be home, or worse. He slowed

down when the voice announced he’d reached his destination. “Worse” was right. A blue Silverado sat in the driveway next to Barb’s rental. A truck with a My Other Car is a Braham Bull bumper sticker. He’d seen that truck before, as Jesse and Barb had pulled away from the reception. Jesse Sullivan was consoling the woman that used to be Hunter’s wife. The woman Hunter had let get away. Pain filled his heart as he sped the truck up and drove away from

the car. Kati’s voice came from the back. “That was Barb’s house. Why didn’t we stop?” Hunter pressed his lips together. “She has company. We’ll visit her another time.” There was no answer from the back seat but when he looked in the rearview mirror, Kati was watching him. “She’ll come back, Uncle Hunter. She loves us.”

Chapter 18 Barb’s head pounded. She’d finished off both bottles of wine last night. She was pretty sure Jesse had put her to bed last night, but she couldn’t remember much after the third time she’d begged him to start the movie over. Now she sat in the waiting area by the gate where in less than an hour their plane would be taking off. And as usual, Jesse wasn’t here.

He’d left a note on top of the contract saying he’d switched up their flight to the later, five P.M. departure and that he’d see her at the airport. Barb had been here for thirty minutes. No Jesse. She leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. Hangovers were punishment for trying to forget. Now, all she could think about was the pain in her head and not her heart. She felt a tug on her jeans and opened her eyes.

A five-year-old girl with hair the same color as Kati’s stared at her. “You shouldn’t sleep at the airport,” the little girl reprimanded Barb. “I wasn’t sleeping.” Barb sat up straighter in her chair. “Your eyes were closed.” Laughing, she nodded, ignoring the throb in her head as she did. “Yes, but that doesn’t mean I was sleeping. Besides, why can’t I sleep?”

“Because someone will take your purse and then you’ll have no money.” The little girl nodded seriously. “I can’t watch out for you long. We’re going to Disneyland.” Barb smiled. The kid wanted to take care of her. Soft heart. Barb hoped she kept it. “So you’re taking Minnie to see Mickey?” She pointed to the stuffed animal in the girl’s arms. “She’s already there. This is a stuffed animal.” The little girl

looked at Barb like she was slow. “Do you have a little girl?” Barb’s heart took over the pain in her body. “No, I don’t.” The child nodded. “You should soon, now that you’re married. Babies come after people get married. It’s a law.” “How do you know I’m married?” “Jilly? Come over here and stop bothering that lady,” a woman called from the other side of the hallway. The waiting area for the

California bound plane, Barb guessed. The little girl started to skip away, then turned and answered Barb’s question. “Because you have a ring, silly.” Barb looked down at her offending hand. With all the confusion and anger and pain, she’d forgotten she still wore the placer ring Hunter had given her that night in Vegas. A fake ring as a symbol of a fake marriage. She pulled at the ring, but it didn’t want

to budge. She dug in her purse and found some hand lotion. Dabbing it on her finger, she removed the ring with a little effort and sat staring at it. The fake diamond still sparkled. “Thought I’d find you here,” a male voice broke up her thoughts. “You should have been here an hour ago. You just like toying with me, right?” Barb looked up and instead of Jesse, found Hunter standing in front of her. “What are you doing here?”

Instead of answering her question, he plucked the ring out of her hand. “I realized I forgot something.” “You told me it was my consolation prize. You told me to keep it,” Barb growled. “No, I didn’t mean that. I meant I forgot to switch it out when I asked you to stay. When I asked you to be my real wife. When I told you I loved you.” Hunter went down on one knee.

“You didn’t say all that. You said Kati loved me.” Barb’s heart raced and she felt dizzy. This couldn’t be happening, not here. Barb glanced around the crowd watching them. What was he thinking? “I may have forgotten to say a few things. But I’m here now.” Hunter took her left hand and slipped a different ring on her finger. “I told you if this had been a real wedding you’d get my mother’s

ring. I just forgot to replace the ring in time.” “So you’re saying you want a real marriage? What about the annulment papers I signed yesterday?” Barb stared at the ring, not wanting to look at Hunter. Everything she’d ever wanted, the romance, the warm, loved feeling, pressed against her brain. Hunter had replaced the placer ring with a real one. The fake was gone. “Kati and I made you flowers last night. We were going to take

you to ice cream, but you had company.” He pulled a bouquet of paper flowers from behind his back. “The girl can be creative when she wants to be.” “Jesse was standing in for Lizzie.” Barb smiled, fingering the paper flowers. Even sprinkled in glitter, she could see the legal words in bits and pieces. They’d cut up the annulment papers. She was still married. “We watched Sleepless in Seattle until his eyes bled.”

“He told me this morning when he stopped by the house and informed me I was an idiot. Then he gave me your flight number.” Hunter squeezed her hand and for the first time seemed to see the crowd standing around them. “I’m getting a little self-conscious down here. Are you going to forgive me? Do you want to make this marriage work?” Barb looked over Hunter’s shoulder at the little girl with her parents. A life she wanted but never

thought she could have. Until today. All she had to do was say yes, and that would be her and Hunter and Kati. A family. Jilly saw her looking and waved, smiling. Barb smiled back and turned her gaze back to Hunter. All she had to say was yes. And so she did.

Chapter 19 The great thing about year-long school was Kati had vacation time when Barb wasn’t traveling all over the western side of the United States. And so, in early October, Barb found herself at the same airport terminal gate that Jilly and her family had been the day Hunter had come to rescue her. She watched Hunter and Kati coming up the hallway. They’d

stopped in one of the little shops to stock up on plane activities. Kati arrived first and tossed a blue dog collar with the word “Boise” written out in rhinestones on Barb’s lap. “Did Bella need a new collar?” Barb let the stones sparkle in the sunlight coming in through the large windows. “Barb, you don’t have to wait until you need something. Bella will love this.” Kati took the collar from Barb and sat heavily in the seat next

to her. “I guess I can’t get her one from Disneyland too now.” “We’ll see.” Barb brushed Kati’s blonde hair out of her eyes and back around her ear. She’d finally started to put on a little weight after three months, and her legs looked tanned and toned from all the soccer she’d been playing the last month. “I told her not to buy the collar, but she started to cry.” Hunter sat next to Barb and tossed a bag of candy on her lap.

“You’re wrapped. That’s all I’m going to say.” Barb jiggled the bag. “Thanks for these. I can’t fly without my Skittles.” Hunter leaned in and kissed her. “I’m totally head over heels in love with both of you. So call me wrapped, I don’t care.” Barb softened the kiss and ran her hand through his hair. She didn’t care, either. “Yech. Guys, people can see you,” Kati whispered loudly, and a chuckle came from the other

passengers sitting across from their seats. “We’re embarrassing the child,” Barb whispered to Hunter, her face leaning on his. “She’ll get over it. I’m sure we’ll get payback soon.” Hunter kissed her on the forehead and leaned back in his chair. Barb knew he was right. Now, she wasn’t sitting in an airport waiting for her life to start, she was waiting for the next surprise, and the one after that. And enjoying

every moment of having a family. A family of her very own.

About the Author Lynn Cahoon spent the first part of her life, living in what’s lovingly called the Treasure Valley around the Boise, Idaho area, the setting for The Bull Rider’s Manager. Now, she calls a small historic town on the Mississippi River where she lives with her husband, home. She writes stories with heroes to fall in love with and heroines who always know exactly what they want and

need, until they don’t. You can connect with Lynn at her website — www.lynncahoon.wordpress.com or on Facebook (www.facebook.com/LynnCahoonAu

Contents Title Page Copyright Page Dedication Acknowledgments Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7

Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 About the Author

The Bull Rider’s Keeper Lynn Cahoon

Avon, Massachusetts

Copyright © 2014 by Lynn Cahoon. All rights reserved. This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher; exceptions are made for brief excerpts used in published reviews.

Published by Crimson Romance an imprint of F+W Media, Inc. 10151 Carver Road, Suite 200 Blue Ash, OH 45242. U.S.A. www.crimsonromance.com ISBN 10: 1-4405-8119-3 ISBN 13: 978-1-4405-8119-9 eISBN 10: 1-4405-8120-7

eISBN 13: 978-1-4405-8120-5 This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, corporations, institutions, organizations, events, or locales in this novel are either the product of the author's imagination or, if real, used fictitiously. The resemblance of any character to actual persons (living or dead) is entirely coincidental. Cover art © 123RF/alanpoulson

To my own cowboy who held me up even during the dark times.

Acknowledgments Big thanks to Emily Tatum, beta reader extraordinaire, as well as my CORE group. Thanks for pushing me to think past the first answer. Jess Verdi, thanks for your editing wisdom. Jesse’s story and the Bull Rider series started with my trip to a rodeo in a small town known for

throwing a heck of a celebration party. My life was in upheaval at the time, but this nugget of story stayed with me. Shawnee, Idaho, might be a fictional place but the mountain valley town keeps me connected with home.

Chapter 1 Time waits for no man, and as usual, Jesse was late. Peeking in the doorway of the class that was supposed to start any minute, he breathed a sigh of relief. Professor DeMarco wasn’t there. He crossed to the next door that led to her office, knocked quickly, then burst in. “Professor DeMarco, I need to leave early today …” He stopped two

steps into the room, glancing at the open door for the name plate. Right office, wrong woman. Instead of the elegant art instructor, a very curvy Venus stood in a black bra and lacy black panties, holding a privacy sheet out from her body like she didn’t quite know what to do with it. Her eyes widened as she realized he was in the room. “Get out of here!” she shrieked. Then, realizing she still held the sheet at

arm’s length, she grabbed it and pressed it against her body. Jesse could have told her it was a lost cause. What he’d seen couldn’t be unseen and she would be haunting his dreams for a while. Instead, he cast his glance regretfully downward and turned around. “Sorry, I guess I should have waited in the hall.” He was closing the door behind him when he heard her response. “Neanderthal.”

When she entered the classroom a few minutes later as that week’s live model, he saw her gaze stop at his easel for a second. Then she did something that never happened when Jesse met a beautiful woman. She ignored him. He glanced at his watch: ten to four. He’d promised to be at the airport no later than an hour before his plane left at six. Yet he still sat in front of his easel. Focusing on the study he’d been working on for the entire class

period, he sighed, knowing he’d missed something. The model today was exquisite, a woman who could have been not only Miss Idaho, but also Miss Freaking Universe. Her blond hair fell straight, ending in the middle of a tan, well-defined back. The girl’s body showed a healthy addiction to working out. He knew the curves that were covered by the privacy sheet, and Jesse felt his body reacting to the view. Not the most professional of reactions for an artist, especially if

he wanted to be taken seriously in the art industry someday. He shifted on the stool, his attention falling on her hands. Strong hands that gripped the cloth keeping her covered. The fabric draped around her as if she’d just woken from a night of wild sex. She sat like a goddess in front of the drawing class. Long, slender fingers displayed her nails painted in that weird clear and white thing girls did. He focused on his canvas and,

using his pencil, gently added a shadow to the back of the hand. He tuned into his artist’s eye, noticing the play of light off her straight hair, the gentle curve of her shoulder. Her long, regal neck. Glancing back at his sketchpad, he knew the only things he’d managed to capture from the vitality of this woman were the hands. He’d nailed the hands. A smile curved on his lips as he looked back up at the goddess in front of him to discover her staring back at him.

Heat coursed across the room, his desire hot, his feelings similar to what he often felt when he locked eyes with a gorgeous woman from across a crowded bar. But this, this felt different. His smile faded as hers gently grew. Did she know what he’d been thinking? Hell, he wanted her to know. He wanted to feel those lips against his own, uncover the body only hinted at in the crowded art room. He wanted to possess her. He felt like a teenaged boy looking at his first girlie

magazine. No, this was more than youthful attraction. Their gazes locked, and he started to rise from his stool, wanting to introduce himself. To get her name, for God’s sake. A beeping from his watch broke his focus, and he dropped his gaze for a second. When he looked back, she’d turned her head away, the moment lost. Jesse sighed and opened his case, putting away supplies. Time to go back into the real world. Time to

become Jesse Sullivan, Champion Bull Rider and Professional BullShitter. Eight seconds riding a bull and hours of interviews with reporters wondering why he would risk his life day after day. Wondering who Jesse Sullivan really was underneath that cowboy hat. “Packing up already? We’ve got the studio for an extended period.” Susan DeMarco came up behind him, staring at his drawing. “This is very good. You’ve captured

something here, something vulnerable. I’m sure with a bit more time …” “Sorry, professor. I have a ride waiting for me. Start of the season, and my manager already has my weekends scheduled to the gills. I had to fight to keep these last four Fridays free so I can finish your class.” Jesse stared at the image on his paper and then back at the model. He pulled himself out of the trance. “It’s easy to have a quality

product when you bring in models like that. She’s amazing.” Susan DeMarco smiled. “I’m glad you think so. I’ve been meaning to introduce the two of you. That’s my daughter, Taylor.” “Your daughter?” Jesse choked out, looking between mother and daughter. “Now I know I’m out of here. No matchmaking, Professor. I have plenty of buckle bunnies chasing me out there in my other life. I don’t need that kind of a distraction.”

He glanced around the studio at the other students, most at least five years younger and fresh out of high school. He stuck out like an old man in this group of metrosexuals, with their flip-flops and long shorts. Ever since he had started taking classes last year, he had felt out of place. Nevertheless, he kept coming back, needing to be more than the image of him painted by the reporters on the rodeo circuit.

He tapped his hand on the professor’s arm in a farewell gesture as he walked past her. Susan DeMarco had been his first instructor at this school. Her gentle instruction and kind words were] part of the reason he kept coming back. No way could he be caught even thinking about what he wanted to do to her daughter. Some problems didn’t need to happen. He turned on his famous bull rider smile and teased, “Besides, you know you’re the one I want.”

Susan laughed. “Flirting with the professor doesn’t give you bonus points in my class, Mr. Sullivan, even if it has worked on other instructors.” Jesse opened the door of the classroom. “Can’t blame a guy for trying. See you next week.” She followed him out into the hallway. “You’re coming to the gallery opening Monday evening, right? My secretary says she hasn’t received your response to the invitation.”

Jesse paused, leaning against the wall. “I don’t know. I do so many of those types of receptions for the job … I hate to play Jesse Sullivan on my time off.” Susan’s eyes sparkled. “Then don’t come as Jesse Sullivan, bull rider. Come as a serious art lover. I have no doubt you can hold your own with that group.” She stepped closer. “Besides, I’d love to see you in a tux.” “Now, see, you shoot me down, then butter me back up.” Jesse

grinned. “As long as you don’t introduce me as the bull rider-goneartist, I’ll come.” “You’ll just be one of my students, I swear.” Susan held her hand up in a three-fingered Girl Scout salute. “ If the airline gods smile on my travel plans, I’ll be there. My plane gets in around two on Monday.” “You need me to send over a tux?” Susan glanced down at the tshirt and Wranglers he’d worn to

class. A pair of dress Tony Lamas peeked out from under the jeans. “Maybe some shoes?” “Now don’t be telling me I can’t wear boots with a tux.” Jesse laughed when he saw Susan flinch. “I’m kidding. It might surprise you to know I own more than just jeans and t-shirts.” “Jesse Sullivan, nothing about you would surprise me.” Susan waved and re-entered the classroom.

He walked past the elevator, taking the stairs instead. When he reached the parking lot, he saw Angie’s blue BMW idling near the curb. A lit cigarette hung outside the rolled-down window, and Jesse could hear the strains of Martina McBride flowing from his mother’s car. Not for the first time, he wondered what life could have been like if she’d stayed home instead of running off to Vegas when he and James were kids. If wishes were horses, all beggars would ride.

He opened the back door, and dropped his portfolio case and supply bag on the floorboard. Angie had his overnight case and rodeo bag sitting on the seat waiting for him. “How was school, sweetie?” His mom leaned over and kissed him on the cheek as he settled into the passenger seat. “Kenny beat me up and stole my lunch money. Oh, wait, that happened when I was eight and you weren’t there.” Jesse reached back

and grabbed his sponsor buttondown shirt, sliding it on over the tee before he snapped his seatbelt into place. He buttoned the front and glanced at his watch. The conversation with Susan had made him later than he’d planned. “Don’t talk back to your mother.” Angie checked her rearview mirror and gunned the gas, pulling the car out into traffic. “Snark isn’t in your character. You’re the sweet one. Your brother is the one who gives me heartache.”

“Just kidding.” Jesse checked his phone. Three missed calls and a terse text from Barb. The woman was an amazing manager, but just a bit anal. He texted a short reply, then looked over at Angie. “My professor tried to fix me up with her daughter.” “And when are you going out?” Angie swerved around a car that she had determined was holding them back. The airport was ten minutes away from the university in light traffic. Angie could get him there in

five minutes, despite full-blown rush hour traffic. The woman had no fear. “I said no.” Jesse remembered Taylor’s hands, and wondered how they would feel caressing his arms, rubbing down his back. How his hands would feel stripping her of that damn sheet. He flipped down the visor and checked his hair in the vanity mirror. He finger-combed a few stray locks, then, satisfied, flipped the visor in place. His hat would cover most of his hair

anyway, at least until they were seated on the plane. Then Barb could take over the fussing. “Heavens, why not? Is she not up to your standards?” Angie sped through the intersection as the light turned yellow. Jesse didn’t answer, only raised his eyebrows as he stared at her. He tucked in his shirt and replaced the everyday leather belt with one that had his name engraved on the back, his latest championship buckle adorning the front.

“What? It wasn’t red.” Angie glanced at him, her brow furrowed. “And you’re trying to change the subject.” “She wasn’t my type.” Jesse stared out the side window. No, the woman who had sat for class today wasn’t in his league. Not even close. He was a shimmer of light, and she was an exploding sun. No way would he be able to ask her out for coffee, much less anything else. What would they talk about? Professor DeMarco was out of her

mind to think her daughter might say yes to a casual conversation with this bull rider who pretended to be an artist. For a moment, when their eyes had met, Jesse could see a past, present, and future with this woman all rolled up into one second. He shook his head. Maybe he’d find the one, someday. Right now, he was too busy to notice. He watched as Angie pulled the car over to the curb and stopped in front of the airport departure area doors. After she slipped the car into

park, he patted her hand. “Thanks for the ride, Mom.” “I don’t know why you’re keeping your classes a secret from your brother. James and Lizzie would support you.” Angie shooed him away with her hand. “Just get going. And stop calling me Mom. Angie. I want you to call me Angie.” Jesse reached over the seat and grabbed his black Stetson. After he’d slipped out of the front seat and retrieved his luggage, he stuck

his head back in the front door. “Love you, Mom.” He slammed the door shut and tapped on the car’s roof. Putting on his hat, he watched her speed away in the little sports car. She barely missed a cab whose driver had only thought he had the right of way. As he watched Angie leave, a striking brunette climbed out of a cab that had just arrived. The girl slowed her movement when she noticed him standing there, making sure he saw enough of her to entice. Catching

her eye, he put on his million-watt grin, then tipped his hat and turned away. He had business to attend to. Jesse walked up to the curbside check-in and handed his bag to the skycap. Barb stood just inside the glass doors of the terminal, glaring at him. He lifted his hand in a wave. “Where you headed?” the older man asked, carrying Jesse’s bag to the counter. There were so many answers to that question, but all the man really

wanted to know was the next stop on Jesse’s tour. “Cody, Wyoming.” ••• Taylor pulled on her robe, watching her mother interact with the remaining students. When she’d gotten the call this morning, she had wondered if maybe things were finally getting better between them. Stupid. Mom never just wanted to see her. No, it was always about something someone needed. And

she continued to act like the dutiful daughter. Old habits die hard. She grabbed her bag and hurried into the bathroom attached to her mom’s office. Despite her working at a state university, Susan DeMarco got the best of everything. Of course, it didn’t hurt that her family owned the oldest art gallery in Boise, and they donated heavily toward the university’s public art program. “It’s part of the image,” her mother would chirp if Taylor ever

questioned their funding of some off-the-wall projects. At least she’d only had to work for the western art exhibit last year. Finding unknown and upcoming artists was like mining for diamonds or panning for gold. She smiled at the analogy. Main Street Gallery was thriving under her control. They’d had some tough times in the past, but she knew if she could just get through December, she’d have her first year in the black. They had a major show next Monday, and she

should have been at the gallery finalizing details instead of sitting for her mom’s class. She thought about the man in the last row. He’d left early, right after she had caught him staring at her. Of course, that was what they were supposed to do—watch and draw—but for some reason, his attention had felt different. Like he could read her mind, or something. She shivered. Too bad she didn’t have time for a quick relationship. She had to get the gallery’s profit

margin up soon. Her parents had dropped too many hints that they were running out of patience with her management. Taylor found herself remembering how the man had focused on the canvas. Then he’d turned those artist eyes on her, poring over her body so deeply that, sometimes, she had thought he could see through the drape. Hell, he’d seen her practically naked before class started—he had probably kept replaying the tape in his head of barging in on her. When

the other men, little more than boys, in class looked at her, she felt naked, exposed. However, when that tall hunk of muscular man in the back stared, she’d felt a different emotion flow from him. She’d felt reverence. She blew out an exasperated sigh. Typical, she was reading too much into a look. Assuming the best out of men always caused her trouble. She was losing perspective. Ever since Brad had dumped her with the old, “it’s not you, it’s me”

line, she’d been gun shy. Especially, since she’d found out he had been seeing other women while she was in the middle of planning their wedding. There couldn’t have been that strong of a connection with the hot guy in the class; they hadn’t said a word to each other. However, for one second, when their gazes had locked, she’d felt drawn to him. It was the same feeling she got when she fell in love with a painting and,

later, the artist. She was unable to tear her eyes away. She pulled on her designer jeans and silky peach shirt. Slipping into her bejeweled flip-flops, she checked her messages. She texted a few responses to Brit back at the gallery. Brit had been her best friend in high school and now was more than an assistant. She swore the girl could read her mind. Hours spent together developing new shows and finding new artists had a tendency to do that to people.

Her stomach growled, and she glanced at the office door. She just had to wait for her mother to stop holding court with her students so Taylor could get out of there. Looking out the large window, she watched the river winding past the campus. A few joggers were running the greenbelt. The shop had kept her too busy. She hadn’t been running in weeks; her body yearned for the release. Working downtown, Taylor never came to this part of Boise

unless she was visiting or dropping off work from the gallery. Next year, if the gallery made it to the black and she had enough saved for a down payment on a house, she would consider buying in the nearby neighborhood. She’d need to see if she could find something far enough away to avoid the frat parties but close enough to walk to the campus for events. Or, maybe she’d buy a condo downtown overlooking the river. One good

year with the gallery and she’d have her place. Her thoughts were still lost in possible real estate choices when she felt her mom’s touch on her arm. “Thanks for coming today. I don’t know what I would have done if you couldn’t have gotten away.” Her mom walked behind the old oak desk and slipped off her high heels, replacing them with a pair of ballerina flats. “I promised them a

live model. How many times can you draw a bowl of fruit?” Taylor turned away from the window. “As good as you look, you could have modeled for the class.” Her mother laughed the tinkling laugh Taylor loved. “First Jesse Sullivan flirts with me, and now you’re being sweet? What happened? Is the moon blue?” “Face it, Mom, you’re still hot.” Taylor grabbed her Vera bag, slipping it over her shoulder. “I’ve got to get back to the gallery.”

Her mom’s phone beeped with a text. Here we go, Taylor thought. The dean probably needed her to chair some black-tie charity event. Her mom read the message, then quickly keyed in a response, her fingers flying on the touch screen. Finished, she slipped the phone into her purse, and put her arm around Taylor. “Come, have lunch with us. Your dad is waiting at that little Mexican place you love.” Susan paused at the door to lock the

office, jangling her keys. “You drive. He’ll take me home after we eat.” Taylor inwardly groaned. She’d assumed modeling for her mom’s art class had been the favor of the day. If they were having lunch with her father, well, that meant the world was ending. He never took time out of his day for family matters. Please, don’t let it be the gallery, she thought, throwing the wish into the universe. As she followed her mom, she couldn’t

squelch the bad feeling growing in her stomach. No matter where Taylor parked, her car always drew a crowd. Today, several guys hung around it, checking out the interior and rims, and challenging each other on the engine size. When she climbed into the driver’s side, she heard one of the young men tell the group, “I bet she has a sugar daddy.” “Keep guessing,” she called back as she shoved the stick into reverse and backed out of the

parking spot. She revved the motor and sped out onto the road, heading to the turnoff where the familyowned restaurant sat tucked into a side street, bordered by a residential area. Maria’s had been in business long before the current planning and zoning laws that frowned on the mixed-use concept came into existence. Her mom turned from staring out the open window to look at her daughter. “How are the preparations coming for Monday’s show? Is John excited?”

Now Taylor knew something had to be wrong. No way would her mom miss an opportunity to correct her on even the slightest error in good manners. “The guy is over the moon. He’s been in the gallery this week more than I have. He keeps changing his mind about the placement of the paintings. Today, I had to give him a deadline and told Brit to kick him out at noon.” “Tortured artists are a handful.” Her mom smiled, her gaze distant. “I remember my first show

when your grandfather ran the gallery. He made all the placement decisions. I knew I was going to fall flat and not sell a single item.” Taylor pulled the sports car into a slot in front of the restaurant. She looked at her mom as she turned off the car, hoping her face would give away a clue to the real purpose of this impromptu family meeting. “And yet, you sold out.” All she got was her mom’s bright smile in response. “Which caused your grandfather to send me

on a trip to Paris to study at the Musée du Louvre. Your grandfather didn’t want me to be successful too quickly.” She dropped her voice in an imitation of the man. “Fast success creates lazy work.” Susan laughed, then slipped out of the car and headed into the restaurant. She appeared to be in a hurry, or didn’t want to be alone with Taylor any longer than the short drive. Taylor scurried after her mom into Maria’s.

The smell of grilled onions and peppers hit her as soon as she opened the yellow door, causing her mouth to water. She smiled at the hostess who was dressed in a white peasant blouse and a colored, tiered skirt. The satin shimmered as the girl walked them to the booth where Taylor’s dad was seated. The lunch crowd had thinned. They were the only customers except for a young couple seated near the door.

Her dad stood to let her mom slide into the upholstered booth. Married thirty years, and he still treated her mother like a princess, delicate to the touch. His blue eyes sparkled as he watched his wife settle, then he turned his gaze on Taylor. He was still striking at his age, with salt and pepper hair, and laugh lines etched near his eyes. After all these years, her parents were still deeply in love. “Hi, Dad.” She reached up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “What

brings you out with family on a weekday? No one else to schmooze?” He put his hands on her arms and pulled her into a hug. When he released her, he pointed to the other bench. “Have a seat. Your mother and I want to talk to you.” Taylor widened her eyes and tried for a shocked expression. “I can’t believe it. I thought my parents just wanted to have lunch with me. If this is about me moving out, you know I’m starting to look

at places. I just want to make sure I don’t buy in haste and then regret the purchase. It’s a big step.” Her father waved away the notion with a large, gnarled hand. He’d worked as a mechanic when he had met her mom, and he still loved tinkering with the old classics in the garage. Her mom hated his hobby, but he’d restored Taylor’s MGB for her high school graduation gift. “You can stay in the house as long as you need. We barely see you, anyway.”

“Then why the clandestine lunch meeting?” Taylor leaned back as the waitress delivered her shrimp fajitas and her mom’s three-cheese taco salad. Her dad had ordered for them. She would normally argue about that, but they both knew she would have ordered the same thing. She pulled out a warmed tortilla and started to layer the veggies, toppings, and shrimp on top. “We just wanted to touch base with you.” His gaze darted back to

her mom. “How are things at the gallery?” Not the question she expected. “Besides being crazy busy getting ready for Monday’s opening? Fine, I guess. Brit’s been a lifesaver during the last month. I swear that girl could sell a toddler’s crayon drawing.” Taylor laughed. “You’ll never believe it, but she sold the last of the Markus prints to a collector last week.” “The guy who was just arrested for trying to hold up a liquor store

in his underwear last month?” Her dad laughed. “I thought we’d be stuck with his inventory for years.” “Apparently, Brit convinced the guy that, since the artist would be unavailable for additional work for the next five-to-ten, his current pieces would be worth money down the line.” Taylor took a sip of water. “I swear, she’s Molly Sunshine, sometimes.” “Brit’s a good employee.” Her mother focused on her salad, not looking up as she added, “Have you

considered going to Europe this summer? You work so hard, maybe you need a break.” Taylor shook her head. “No way can I get away for more than a weekend this year. We’ve got some amazing shows lined up in the next few months. With the longer days, and the city’s promotion trying to get people downtown on Wednesdays, we’ll be busier than ever.” She watched her parents exchange a look and thought she

saw her mother’s head shake in a silent message not to say anything. They were keeping something from her, she could tell. “Are you seeing anyone?” Her mother’s question came out of nowhere. Taylor smiled, catching on to their little secret. They were trying to set her up for a blind date, probably with one of her father’s many associates. An up-and-coming success story who was just perfect for her, since they were both single.

“Really, guys, I’m too involved with the gallery right now to even consider casual dating. If you’re concerned I’m still hung up on Brad, believe me, that’s not an issue. I just haven’t found Mr. Right.” Taylor’s thoughts went to the man from class. “Someday, I promise, you’ll have grandchildren. Just not tomorrow.” “We just worry about you.” Her dad checked his watch. “I didn’t realize it was already this late.” He

turned to her mother. “Ready, dear?” Her mother pushed aside her half-eaten lunch. “I have some calls to make for the club that I’ve been putting off.” She stood and kissed Taylor on the cheek as her father threw some bills on the table. “We’ll see you later?” “I’m planning on spending the weekend at the gallery, so don’t expect to see me much before Monday night.” Taylor watched her parents glance at each other again

and groaned. They were matchmaking. Monday night there would be an extra man at the opening, who just so happened to stop in. “Look, I’m fine. Busy, but fine.” Her father patted her hand. “We know you are. Just remember that we love you.” Without another word, her parents hurried out of the restaurant, their heads together, whispering. Taylor watched them leave, knowing she was doomed to

play nice with some guy on Monday. She didn’t have time for their games. The waitress came by to clear off their plates. “Can I get you something else?” Taylor glanced at her lunch. Might as well eat now; she’d probably be working late tonight. “Bring me a frozen margarita.” After spending quality time with her folks, she needed a drink.

Chapter 2 Taylor pulled up the top of her gold sequined dress once more as she looked in the mirror. She should have gone with her instincts and worn the blue halter. In this strapless outfit, she’d be constantly checking to make sure that the top wasn’t showing too much skin. She had to look like a professional. She looked at herself in the mirror, and

the face of Main Street Gallery looked back at her. She’d studied for years at every art institution in the Northwest, trying to learn as much as she needed to be as good a manager as her grandfather had been. The place was her birthright, her heritage. No way would she let the Harrison name down. She sat on the edge of her bed, reaching out to scratch Miss Fitz’s stomach. The cocker was older than Taylor wanted to admit, but seemed to be in good health.

“Who’s a good dog?” She leaned in and gave Miss Fitz a kiss on the top of her buff-colored head. The dog wagged her tail and looked up expectantly. “No walk tonight, buddy.” She pulled at the bodice one more time to make sure it was holding fast, and then grabbed her purse and keys. She had fifteen minutes to get across town so she could be in the gallery before the doors opened. She needed to double-check the details for the party. Time to show

her parents that she was a confident and successful executive. Being late wouldn’t make the right impression. She pressed a kiss to her grandfather’s picture on her dresser mirror and sprayed perfume on her neck as the finishing touch. ••• An hour later, the party was in full swing. Showcasing a new artist always worried her; she never knew if people would be interested

enough in the promotion to take time out to attend an opening. Luckily, most of the art-buying players in Boise had returned to attending shows and opening their wallets a tad. The recession had hit the town pretty hard, but if the level of art purchases were any indication, they were starting to see an upturn. John was one of Taylor’s discoveries. She’d found him at a flea market, selling paintings for cheap to cover his rent. Taylor had given him her business card. Within

a week, she’d contracted his collections. He had an amazing eye for a landscape artist, and many of the pieces they were showing tonight were of local spots Taylor knew people would recognize. “You won’t believe this.” Brit handed her a glass of champagne. Taylor’s assistant wore a long black halter dress with a plunging neckline. It accented her figure, yet she still looked elegant. The girl could pull off a gunnysack.

“Don’t tell me something’s wrong. The caterers are out of food. The wine’s gone?” Taylor’s eyes widened. “The bathroom backed up.” Brit slapped her on the arm. “You’re such a Negative Nancy. Why does something have to be wrong?” Taylor breathed in a sigh of relief. “Things just seem to happen that way. You had me going for a minute. So what’s up?”

Brit took a sip from her glass. “The toilets are overflowing.” Taylor choked. “What?” Brit patted her on the back as Taylor coughed up champagne that had gone down the wrong tube. Taylor’s eyes watered. “Lighten up, I was kidding. But glad to know what gets you all freaked.” “You’re not right, you know that?” Taylor dabbed at her eyes with a napkin, hoping her tears hadn’t wrecked her eye makeup.

“Don’t hate.” Brit raised her eyebrows. “Besides, I bring good news. We’ve already sold five of John’s paintings tonight.” “Shut up.” Taylor wanted to squeal, or jump up and down, but her stilettos didn’t seem sturdy enough. “You’re teasing.” “On my honor, I swear.” Brit grinned. “John’s over the moon. He’s been telling everyone how wonderful you are because you believed in him. I think he sang

‘Wind Beneath My Wings’ a few times.” “I’m so happy for him. I should go congratulate him.” Taylor searched the crowd, her gaze landing on her parents. They were talking to that hunk who had been in her mom’s drawing class. Wow, did the boy clean up good. She dropped her gaze down the length of his body, her breath catching a bit. If she weren’t on the clock tonight, he’d be in big trouble. It wouldn’t hurt her to be social for a

few minutes. In fact, it would be rude not to say hello. She strolled toward the trio. “Where are you going? John is on the other side of the gallery,” Brit called after her. “Just checking in with the folks. Tell John I’ll be right there.” Taylor weaved her way through the crowd, grabbed a fresh glass from a waiter, and slid in next to her father. The three stopped talking and looked at her.

“Hey, pumpkin.” Her father beamed down at her. “You look great when you put on a dress. Need to do that more often.” “Stop messing with her. Jesse Sullivan, you remember my daughter, Taylor?” Her mom lightly pushed Jesse closer. The hunk, now known as Jesse, leaned forward and tapped his forehead in some sort of salute. “Good evening, Miss DeMarco.” “Taylor, please.” Taylor tugged at the arm of her father’s jacket.

“You’ll never believe this, but John’s already sold five pieces.” “See, Jesse, I told you that you won’t regret this decision. John is just one of the many talented new artists my daughter has signed with the gallery.” Her father gave her a little squeeze. Taylor tilted her head. “Oh, did you buy one of the paintings?” The man hadn’t looked like anything more than a student when she saw him in class. Of course, that didn’t mean he hadn’t come from money.

Jesse smiled. “You could say that.” Her dad slapped him on the back. “Honey, you’re looking at the new owner of Main Street Gallery. Jesse just bought me out.” ••• Jesse watched the surprise fill Taylor’s face, then another emotion —anger? He must be misreading her. He’d just committed way too much of his personal winnings in an art gallery. Barb would kill him

when she found out. He’d throw in a promise to ride for at least a few more seasons, just to make sure he didn’t lose everything. He should have waited. He should have said he’d think about it. However, when Professor DeMarco’s husband had mentioned that they were putting the gallery on the market, the words just fell out of his mouth. It was typical Jesse Sullivan style. Talk first, ask questions later. Man, the family was going to laugh their asses off when he told them.

The good news was that Mr. DeMarco had promised Taylor would stay on and manage the place, for the right salary. Jesse’s stomach rolled. He owned a business. He was the man. How could he be the man? He didn’t know anything about corporations, or businesses, or, his conscience added, art. “I’m looking forward to working with you,” he said. Whatever he’d expected, it hadn’t been this silent treatment. “I’m

meeting with your father and my people tomorrow at the gallery. Do you want to join us?” Her eyes widened and Jesse wondered if he’d said something wrong. Finally, she took a deep breath. “I’ve got to go congratulate our artist.” She glanced at her dad and mom, who watched her very carefully. “Someone has to work around here.” She spun around and Jesse watched her full skirt twirl. His

fingers ached to pick up a pencil and start drawing the folds of that dress. Man, this girl got to him in ways he’d never imagined. Now he had to work with her on a daily basis. He was good and totally screwed. Mr. DeMarco stared at the retreating form of his daughter. Finally, Susan broke the uncomfortable silence. “Rich, why don’t you take Jesse around the gallery and show him what he’s gotten himself into. Maybe we need

to let him think on his decision for a while.” Yes, Jesse’s mind screamed, an escape hatch. He watched Taylor across the room, her hand on the artist’s arm as she threw her head back to laugh. He felt a stab of jealousy as she smiled at something the man said. Back out, now. Leave, and never return. Don’t throw good money after bad. Run. He thought all these things, and more. When he opened his mouth to speak, he said something that surprised him.

“I don’t want to back out. I want to buy the gallery, if you’ll sell it to me.” Jesse broke his gaze from watching Taylor and turned it back on the couple in front of him. Rich slapped him on the back. “Now that’s what I like. A man who knows his mind.” As they walked through the building Jesse had just bought, he thought about Rich’s pronouncement. The one thing Jesse had never been was someone who knew his own mind.

What in the world had he done? ••• The next morning he pulled the gang together for a family meeting. His family asked him that very same question more than once. His brother James and his brother’s wife Lizzie had Skyped into the meeting from their home in the mountains. Jesse could see their worried faces fill the laptop’s screen. Barb paced the kitchen

where he and Angie sat around the computer. “Maybe we should let Jesse talk,” his mother said again. Everyone had been talking over each other since he’d announced his plans to buy Main Street Gallery. No one listened, and the voices grew louder. Jesse saw Angie grab her purse, and wondered if his mother had had enough and was planning a getaway. The woman didn’t deal with conflict, that he knew. An ear

splitting horn pierced the cacophony of voices and the kitchen fell silent. Angie held an air horn in her hand. As she glanced around the room, she said, “Why don’t we let Jesse talk now?” Barb stopped pacing and sat down at the table across from Jesse, glaring at Angie. “Like I can hear anything now, anyway.” “You should have listened earlier.” Angie shrugged. Jesse tried not to smile. His mother had her own way of dealing with issues.

Years in Las Vegas, married to what Jesse assumed was a low-level mob boss, had hardened the woman just a tad. Now she was trying to make amends to her family. Jesse gave her props for trying. Jesse felt the attention slip from Angie to him. Nervous, he took a sip of coffee from the cup in front of him and almost choked. He glanced at his mother; she’d poured a shot of whiskey in the cup before she’d brought it to him. He blessed her for the liquid courage.

“I bought Main Street Gallery last night,” Jesse said. This had been as far as he’d gotten the first time before the room had erupted in chaos. He swallowed and went on. “I think it will be a good investment. And I have the money set aside, so I don’t know why you’re all so upset.” Barb looked at him. “Jesse, you know that the initial investment isn’t all the money this is going to cost you. Have you looked at the company’s financials? Is it even

making the rent? Alternatively, is payroll covered? People don’t sell profitable businesses, and in this economy, art isn’t high on most people’s lists of must-buys.” “No, food is more important.” James spoke next. “Face it, Jesse, you got bamboozled. They were looking for a sucker, and you walked into their trap.” He glanced at Lizzie who had picked up one of the twins waving at the computer, trying to get Angie’s attention.

“How’d they even find you? Or was this done over a few drinks?” “The gallery has a great reputation. It’s one of the oldest, privately owned galleries in town. Artists who get their stuff in a show there take off; they’ve launched a lot of new talent.” Jesse said. “And how would you know that?” James asked. “I’m sure a history of a local galleries wasn’t included in your finance classes at school.”

Angie nodded, encouraging him. He took a breath. In for a penny … “I’m not majoring in finance. I’ve been taking art classes.” The room stayed quiet. No one spoke until, finally, Angie piped up. “And he’s good, damn good.” James shook his head. “I don’t believe you know what you’ve gotten yourself into, bro. Nevertheless, one thing’s for sure: it’s your money. Just don’t expect

the rest of us to bail you out if you get in a jam.” “Look, I’m not asking for money. Hell, I’m not even quitting riding.” When she heard Jesse’s words, Barb’s shoulders dropped in relief. “In fact, I’m probably going to have to ride at least another year. I’d planned on going out on top this year, but I’d like to build my savings back up before I charge into this full time.” “I think you’re too late for that,” James said. Lizzie elbowed

him, and he shot her a look. He leaned back and sighed. “But if this is what you want, we’ll support you.” “Thanks.” Jesse glanced at Barb. As his manager, she could make his life hell for the next two years. “So, you on the Jesse train?” Barb leaned back too, resigned to the idea. “I can’t say I like it. I don’t think a man can serve two masters. You know bull riding at your level isn’t just about the weekends. You’ll need a strong

manager at the gallery to handle things when you’re not available. You got anyone you can trust?” “I’ve already thought of that. The current manager, Taylor. Her folks said she’d probably stay on, if I made it worth her time.” “I knew there was a girl in this somewhere,” James said. Jesse shook his head. “Believe me, she’s not interested in me. I don’t think she dates cowboys. More of a suit kind of gal.”

Angie laughed. “Son, you don’t get it, do you.” Jesse focused in on his mother. “What?” “Every woman wants a cowboy. And now that you’ve bought the gallery, she knows you’re not some ranch hand.” Angie smiled and waved at the little boy on the computer screen, who giggled and waved even harder in response. She returned her gaze to Jesse. “You’re now irresistible.”

Jesse thought about the look Taylor had given him when her folks told her that he was her new boss. Hate, loathing, pain. Many emotions had floated through that look, but admiration or lust weren’t even in the ballpark. “I think you’re wrong, Mom. The woman hates me.” Of course, he’d probably messed up any chance of a relationship—professional or otherwise—when he walked in on her getting ready to model for the class. Seeing a woman naked tended

to stick with a guy. “Even more reason to get rid of her and put your own manager into the gallery.” Barb glanced at Angie. “Jesse’s going to be out of town the next three weekends. You want to play gallery owner for him?” Angie tapped her purplestarred nails on the table. She glanced at Jesse, then back at Barb. “You know, I’ve been thinking I need something to do with my time. I’d love to.”

Jesse nodded. “I think it’s smart. I mean, I don’t want to get rid of Taylor unless I have to, but at least with Mom there, I’d have some sort of connection to the place while I’m out of town. Look, I know I’m asking for your support after the fact.” James muttered, “Typical Jesse.” His brother’s words brought heat to Jesse’s face. “I’m the family screw-up, I get that. But I’d really appreciate your support with this.

We’ve always been there for each other. I’d like to think you back me on this decision.” He glanced at the clock. “I was supposed to meet the DeMarcos at the gallery today.” Barb shook her head. “We need to slow this down a little. Give you some time to think out your options. I’ll call and set something up for tomorrow. So the family is supporting this?” Barb glanced around the room, focusing on each person to get consent before she continued. James took the longest

to meet her eyes but even he finally nodded. “Then it’s settled. I’ll go over, introduce Angie and myself, and get an accountant set up to go over the books. I’m assuming George will be handling the legal stuff?” Jesse nodded. George Baxter had been his and James’s lawyer for years. “Would you call him and have him contact the DeMarcos to start pulling together a contract?” “I’ll talk to him this afternoon. Angie? Can you meet me there

tomorrow?” Barb glanced at Angie’s nails and added, “Unless you’re busy.” “Honey, nothing is more important than when my boy needs me.” Angie focused her attention on Lizzie and James. “Sorry, loves, I won’t be up there this weekend. Expect me bright and early next Monday though. Grandma Angie needs her grandkid fix.” Jesse heard JR, his nephew, laugh in the background.

He made his goodbyes to his brother and sister-in-law and promised to come up to Shawnee to visit as soon as possible. Angie and Barb were discussing their plans for meeting up the next morning. He caught his mother’s attention. “So how come Grandma Angie’s fine, but I can’t call you Mom?” Angie shrugged. “The babies don’t know better. They love me. I just don’t want some great catch hearing you call me Mom and thinking I’m old, or something.”

Barb pursed her lips together and Jesse knew she was holding in a laugh. “So tell me about this Taylor. Is she going to give us trouble?” Jesse thought about the woman who’d posed half nude so effortlessly for a group of college students. He remembered the way she floated through the gallery patrons Monday night, smiling and joking, even after her parents had announced the sale. She had steel balls, that one. He realized the

women were waiting for an answer. An answer he wasn’t sure about. Finally, he said the only thing that he knew to be true. “I don’t know.” Barb cocked her head and watched him. “Usually, you can size someone up in a few minutes and know if they are going to be trouble or not. What’s different about this girl? Or, have you not met her yet?” Jesse took another swig of the laced coffee before he answered. “I’ve met her, and I still don’t know. She’s strong, and amazing, and

beautiful, but I think she’s hiding something inside, really, really deep.” He shook his head. “Sorry, I can’t answer your question.” “You like her.” Barb didn’t phrase it as a question, just a matter of fact. He shook his head, and drained the coffee. “I don’t know her well enough to like or hate her. All I know is, she didn’t look happy to hear the news.” Barb’s cell went off. She held up a finger walking away from the

table as she answered, “Hi, Kadi.” Barb had married into a ready-made family last year, complete with a seven—now eight—year-old who loved to ride almost as much as Jesse did. The kid had a strong seat as she rode, and she’d started competing already. Soon Kadi would be barrel racing, and Barb would have to hire someone to manage the kid’s career, or give up the bull riders. Angie stood and took Jesse’s cup to the counter.

“Just coffee, please. I don’t need to be drunk at ten in the morning,” Jesse called after her. Angie cocked her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” When Angie and the coffee returned, Jesse took a tentative sip and smiled. Strong, hot, deep coffee, and only coffee. “Thanks, Mom.” She patted his shoulder. “Anytime.” Barb finished her conversation, and came over to the table. “I’ve got to go. Kadi forgot her riding gear,

and her instructor is picking her up after school to practice for the competition this weekend.” “I’ll meet you over at the gallery tomorrow.” Angie smiled. “It will be like I’ve got a real job.” Barb and Jesse laughed. “What?” Angie looked from one to the other. “They won’t know what hit them.” Jesse patted her hand. Barb said, “Just meet me there. We’ll talk about what you need to do when we meet with this Taylor

girl. Remember, you’re there to protect Jesse’s interest, not make friends.” Barb swung her bag over her shoulder. “I’ll call tonight after I talk to George.” “Thanks, Barb,” Jesse called after her. She raised a hand and waved, but didn’t look back as she walked to the door. “That girl needs to put her foot down. The kid runs both Barb and Hunter with a crook of her finger.” Angie shook her head.

“Mom, I’m not sure parenting advice is your forte.” Jesse pulled the computer closer and opened up the website for the gallery. He sighed as they paged through the site. Finally, he leaned back and looked at his mother. “Do you think I made a mistake?” “Heavens, no. Sometimes, fate takes an active hand in our lives. Something drew you to make that decision last night. It may have been rash, but I believe that you need to be there.” She pulled out

her phone. “I can get you an appointment with Angelic if you want.” “I don’t need to go to a fortune teller.” Jesse glanced at his watch. “But I do need to get to class.” He stood and kissed his mother on the head. “You want to have dinner tonight?” Angie nodded. “I’ll visit Angelic myself. Sometimes she can feel the energy of you boys just by reading me. She’s very powerful.”

She’s very convincing, Jesse thought. But if it made his mother happy, what was the harm. Two hours later, he’d finished class and was heading to the gym for a quick workout when he got the answer to that question. His mom’s number came up on his phone. “Hey, Mom, I’m heading into the gym.” “You can’t buy the gallery.” Her voice sounded choppy and breathless.

“Hold on, what’s wrong?” Jesse pulled the car into the gym’s parking lot and turned off the engine. “You can’t buy the gallery. Angelic says it’s a bad time for change.” Jesse smiled as he grabbed his workout bag. “Mom, you know I don’t believe in psychics.” “But, Jesse, she already knew when I walked in. She was so upset. She said the same thing Barb said.”

“What’s that?” Jesse watched a tan, fit woman leave the gym. He’d gotten his share of dates from this place. Who needed bars anymore? “A man can’t serve two masters. He will be forced to choose.” “Look, I’m here. Can we talk about this tonight?” Jesse pulled his keys from the ignition and waited for the answer. “She drew the death card, Jesse. If you buy the gallery, someone’s going to die.”

Chapter 3 Taylor sat at her desk and acted like she was going over the sale records for Monday’s show. Instead, she kept playing the recurring image in her head of her dad showing Jesse Sullivan around the gallery like the papers had already been signed. After the gallery closed, she’d tried to talk to her parents, tried to get them to change their minds. Like

always, they refused to listen. Her father had even patted her on the head and told her to be a good girl. They usually discounted her feelings. When she’d wanted to take riding lessons instead of ballet, she’d been denied. Then, when she’d wanted to try out for the cheerleading squad, her mom had said no, offering instead a private gymnastics tutor. She hadn’t even been able to choose her own college. Instead, she had attended Albertsons, because it was expected

of a Harrison to attend the college her great grandfather had funded in its infancy. No wonder she’d fallen for Brad so quickly; the man had let her do whatever she’d wanted. Mostly, she now knew, so he’d have more time for his own extracurricular activities. Well, she would show them good girl. This wasn’t a teenage wish; this was her life they were messing with. She pulled out her planner and flipped through the address book until she found the

number she was looking for. Then she dialed. “Hawley Law Offices,” said a bored receptionist. “Michael Hawley, please.” Taylor waited to be transferred and mulled the idea over in her head. This was extreme, but she had to try. For the sake of the gallery, and her own sanity, she had to try. “Michael Hawley, speaking.” A male voice interrupted her thoughts.

“Mike, it’s Taylor DeMarco. I need a lawyer.” She told him what she wanted to do, how she needed to find a way to save her gallery. “It’s a long shot, Taylor. I mean, your folks are both pretty high up on the power food chain. We may not even get a judge to grant us a hearing, let alone a stay of sale.” “But you’ll try?” Taylor pleaded. The silence on the phone made her cringe as she waited for an answer. Then she heard his sigh.

“Yes, I’ll try. We’re both probably committing professional suicide here. You know that, right?” “All I know is that I have to do everything in my power to keep control of the gallery in my family. My grandfather would roll over in his grave if he knew it was being sold.” “You’re going to owe me big on this one, Taylor.” Mike said his goodbyes and ended the conversation.

Taylor updated her online calendar and added the meeting with Mike. While she was checking her e-mail for incoming orders, Brit came into the office and poured herself a cup of coffee. Her assistant lounged in one of the chairs in front of Taylor’s desk, her leg draped over the arm of the chair. Taylor raised an eyebrow, taking in Brit’s skinny jeans and knee-high leather boots. The girl’s dark hair was pulled back into a stark ponytail.

“Good morning. Auditioning for a Robert Palmer video today?” Taylor said. “Don’t be mean. John’s afterclosing party kept me up late. Man, he knows some wild people. You so should have come with us. We took over the top of the Hoff building after-hours. It was wicked.” Brit sipped her coffee. “I had some business to deal with …” Taylor said. “I’ve got a meeting out of the office this afternoon, can you handle things?”

Brit eyed her. “Can’t be a nail appointment, you just got them done for the opening. Maybe a new cut? Or, are you finally going to try out that new masseuse over at Warm Springs Spa? I hear he’s hot.” “Maybe I didn’t tell you where my appointment was because I didn’t want you to know?” Taylor smiled at her friend. Brit had joined the gallery the same summer Taylor had come to work for her grandfather. Taylor had expected to have years to learn the industry

under his guidance. Instead, when he’d died last year from a stroke, she’d stepped up and started managing the gallery. And other than dealing with the mess the recession had put them in, she thought she’d been doing a pretty good job. Until last night. “Speaking of hot guys, who was that hunk of hot with your folks last night? Everyone at the party was buzzing about him. No one knew him, so we called him your mystery date.” Brit leaned forward. “I mean,

did you see his eyes? I’ve never seen that shade of blue before. And the way his tuxedo fit … Dude, I wanted to show him our back room, if you know what I mean.” Taylor smiled. She knew exactly what Brit meant. Jesse Sullivan had turned many heads last night, and not just those of the young women. Some of the country club members had wandered over with their cocktails to meet the mysterious man. They had used their free hands to caress his

muscular arms hiding under the fabric of his jacket. The man drew women in like flies. How could she compete with that? Gallery groupies would buy stock just to spend time with the new owner. She cringed as she realized how likely that was. “Over my dead body,” she said to herself. This was her legacy. She wasn’t giving in that easy. Brit’s eyes widened and Taylor realized she had said the words aloud.

Her assistant held up her hands in mock surrender. “All you had to say was that he’s yours. You know I don’t play in other people’s backyards.” Taylor shook her head. “Sorry, I …” She paused. How much did she want to tell Brit? And how long did she have before the news came out, anyway? “Look, things are complicated right now.” Brit picked up the sales paperwork that Taylor had already processed, and cradled the stack in

her arms. Watching Taylor, she frowned. “I’m not judging or being nosy, but if you want to talk, you know I’m here. You look like someone ran over your dog and stole your truck.” “In other words, I look like a real life country song?” “Exactly.” Brit stopped at the doorway to the office. “You want me to order lunch?” The thought of food made Taylor’s stomach lurch. “No, I’ll grab something while I’m out.”

Her office fell silent once Brit left. Taylor stared at a framed picture on her desk. It showed the day of her first gallery opening. William Harrison had his arm around her, and a smile the size of a Golden-Day Hollywood star. She had to fix this, one way or another. ••• Jesse sat waiting at a plastic table under a multicolored umbrella with a big beer logo painted on it. He’d agreed to meet Angie for dinner at

the downtown restaurant to try to calm her down. The woman loved her psychics. He was nursing a longneck when he saw her, the girl he couldn’t get off his mind. He’d been wrong about her hair color. What had looked like blond in the artificial light of the studio and the gallery shimmered with a touch of strawberry in the sunlight. His mouth twitched. The woman got to him. He watched her stride down the sidewalk. She was leaving one

of the office buildings that mixed in with the retail and food shops lining Main Street; he knew he needed to stay away. The woman screamed danger. Danger he’d love to unwrap. One piece of clothing at a time. A man dashed out of the doorway she’d just vacated and jogged to catch up with her. He must have called her name, because Taylor turned and stopped, letting the man catch up. The two talked for a minute; then, he put his arm

around her and they walked down the sidewalk together. It never failed—Jesse could fall faster for an unavailable, off-the-market woman than anyone in history. And he never poached. Still, something kept him watching. Hoping for a sign that what he saw wasn’t what he thought it was. A small part of him hoped she would stomp on his foot or slap the man across the face. Then Jesse could run over and save her from the leech.

“Who are you staring at?” Angie’s voice broke his concentration. He stood, greeting her with a kiss on the cheek. “Just people watching.” Jesse didn’t know why he lied. For some reason it felt like his mom had intruded on something extremely personal. He nodded to the bucket full of bottles on ice he’d ordered earlier. “Beer?” Angie glanced back up the street to where Taylor and the Leech were walking into a different

café with sidewalk seating. They sat down, obviously having dinner. Jesse realized Angie was no longer looking across the street, but was staring directly at him. “Someone you know?” She nodded toward the other café. Jesse sighed, pulling a bottle out of the bucket. He wiped off the moisture, twisted off the top, and handed it to his mother. “The woman who just sat down over there?”

“The one in the Michael Kors outfit?” Angie squinted. “Or, it could be a knock off, I can’t really tell from here.” “The one in the blue, she’s sitting with the man in the suit.” Jesse pointed, hoping she wouldn’t notice them staring. That’d be hard to explain. “So, who is she?” Angie took a swig from her beer bottle. “I love ice-cold beer on a hot day like today.”

“Good to know.” Jesse wondered if Angie could handle helping out at the gallery. Her thought process wasn’t quite linear. “She is my new gallery manager.” “You mean, the one I’m meeting tomorrow?” Angie squinted, sighed, and pulled her purse to her lap. She dug around for a few seconds, coming up with a pair of red prescription glasses. She slipped them on and looked at Jesse, who stared at her like she’d grown a second head. “What? A girl

has to have some secrets. My eye doctor says I have the vision of a twenty-year-old; these just help my farsightedness.” Long seconds passed as Jesse watched his mom stare across the street at his new employee. Finally, Angie slipped off her glasses and put them back in their case, returning it to her purse. “She’s pretty.” Freaking beautiful, Jesse thought. He just nodded. “And from what I can tell, smart.”

“You’re taken with her, Jesse Sullivan.” She shook her finger at him when he started to rebut her statement. “A mother always knows. I knew it the first time I saw James and Lizzie look at each other. Love, it’s hard to hide.” “James and Lizzie were always that way. Even back in high school, I used to rib him about being her puppy dog. But the guy had it bad. I shouldn’t have made him come on tour with me.”

Angie laid her hand on his forearm. “No use crying over spilled sangria. Things happen in life. You didn’t make your brother do anything.” “So why does it feel like I did?” Jesse said, more to himself than his mother. “No worries, I’m not racked with guilt. I’m just thinking about some of my past decisions.” And future ones, he added silently. “My sweet boy.” She patted his arm. Finishing off her beer, she

grabbed a second one before she set down the first bottle. Jesse waved a waitress over and took the full bottle away from his mom, setting it back in the bucket. “After we get some food.” Jesse ordered his dinner, added a few items to Angie’s order, and asked the waitress to bring them a couple of iced teas as well. The two sat without talking for a few minutes after the waitress left. “I can’t believe I bought a gallery.” Jesse finally broke the

silence. Angie took a sip of the iced tea that had just arrived. “I told you that Angelic says—” “Mom, don’t get me wrong, but I’m not backing out of this deal because some nutcase says my dead ancestors are unhappy with my decision.” Jesse twirled the straw in between two fingers. “I may have acted rashly; I’ll admit that. But who knows when this kind of opportunity will appear again. I had to act fast.”

“And the fact that the gallery manager could be confused with a supermodel didn’t factor into your decision at all, right? That’s your story?” “I didn’t know she was the manager when I said yes to Rich. You know how important art is to me. I just wanted, I don’t know, to be something besides a bull rider?” Jesse took off his ball cap and ran his fingers through his hair. He saw Taylor laugh at something her date said, and instantly Jesse went back

to that moment in the studio when their gazes had connected. He’d felt so drawn to her. A weekend out of town without risking the chance of running into Taylor DeMarco, that was what he needed. He’d have a clear head on Monday when he returned home. Angie leaned back as the waitress set her plate of chicken and mushrooms in front of her. She waited for the waitress to deliver Jesse’s T-bone, loaded baked, and side of Tex-Mex corn before she

spoke again. “Angelic says the purchase will cause upheaval.” “I thought she drew the death card.” Jesse cut into his steak, perfectly cooked to medium rare. He took a bite, and the juice ran into his mouth. The sensation made him glance across the street to Taylor. He watched as she flipped her head back and smiled, really smiled. No, the woman needed out of his head sooner than later. Now that he knew she was involved, that just made the mental switch easier.

“I’ve been thinking about that. The card doesn’t have to mean an actual death. It could be the ending of a lifestyle, or maybe just represent the changeover of the gallery from their family to ours. Of course, we’re not a rich, connected family like the Harrison/DeMarco group. Are you sure you’re going to be able to keep the place going?” Angie cut her chicken into pieces as she chatted. She looked down at the plate and laughed. “I’ve been hanging out with the little ones too

long. Look at what I did to my meat. I swear, those boys are changing my life even when I’m not playing Grandma Angie.” Jesse chuckled. “Maybe that was the life-changing event your fortune teller saw? You turning into a normal grandmother type.” “When hell freezes over,” Angie said. “I hope I can represent you and the family appropriately tomorrow. You know, I tend to say what’s on my mind.”

Jesse took his mother’s hand. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. I need to know what I’ve gotten myself into before the sale is finalized. They’ve allowed me a twoweek grace period to have my advisors look over the investment. You can spot a fraud faster than most people, even if you don’t know a thing about art.” “Are you looking for a way out?” Angie twisted off a bottle cap and sipped the cold beer.

Jesse glanced over at the couple across the street, now eating their dinner. In his mind, he could see himself in the place of the man having dinner with Taylor. His mother was right—he had it bad. “Let’s just see what’s really going on there and we’ll make a final decision in two weeks. I don’t want to be swayed by the trappings.” His mom smiled and her words echoed in his head. “Sometimes fate brings you home.”

Chapter 4 “The woman is crazy.” Taylor glanced out her office door to see if her new BFF was within earshot. “I swear, she thinks she has to be glued to my side.” “I thought it was the cute bull rider who bought the gallery, not his mother.” Brit sat on the leather couch, flipping through a portfolio. She reached the end of the book,

closing it with a sigh. “I wish people wouldn’t just drop these off. I can tell from the first two pages his art isn’t up to show level yet. Maybe we could have a ‘no portfolio’ policy.” “I’m sure the new owner will want to implement a lot of new policies. You should bring it up with the two out there.” Taylor pointed to the front where Angie stood talking to Barb. “They seem to be making plans already.” Brit laughed. “I haven’t seen you this tweaked since that girl

showed up unannounced at Ken’s house during the senior party.” “Ugh, don’t remind me. I made a complete and utter fool of myself that night.” Taylor hadn’t thought about her cheating, quarterback boyfriend for years. “She swore she didn’t know he and I were even dating, let alone almost engaged. The jerk was playing her and me.” She hated to think about Ken or Brad. Why was she so drawn to the bad boy? The man who couldn’t commit to or love one just one

person. Jesse Sullivan had a lot in common with her past boyfriends. He was handsome, charming, and a player. She wouldn’t go down that road again. “That’s because you didn’t put out like she did,” Brit said. She opened another portfolio, carefully avoiding Taylor’s eyes. Taylor threw a pencil at her friend. “How do you know? Maybe I was a complete and utter slut with Ken?”

“Give me a break. Who was your best friend all during high school? You told me everything.” Brit’s smile widened. “Even that time you kissed the guy with the motorcycle at the dance in Kuna.” “One kiss is a lot different than what Ken was doing.” Taylor leaned back in her chair. “How’d we get on this subject, anyway?” “You started it.” “I did not.” Taylor saw a flash of movement, and there in her office doorway stood Barbara

Carico, Jesse Sullivan’s manager and friend. Or were they more than friends? With Barb’s wild red hair and slender body, a man would be a fool not to seal that deal. A stab of jealousy ran through Taylor’s body. Why did she care who the bull rider felt attracted to? She stood and pasted on a smile. “Hey, anything I can help you with?” Barb smiled a genuine smile, unlike the fake one plastered on Taylor’s face. “Angie and I are heading out to grab some lunch. If

you have time, we’d love to have you join us.” Taylor swallowed hard, pushing down the anger that gripped her. “I don’t think so. I still have to finalize the sales from the showing.” Brit stood. “Go ahead, Taylor. I’ll handle all that.” She grabbed a file then leaned in close to Taylor and said, “Time to do some recon of your own.” Taylor stared at her friend, realizing the girl was right. What could it hurt to get to know these

two a little better? Maybe she’d find a weak spot. One she could exploit before the two weeks expired. If Mr. Sullivan trusted these two, dropping a few false leads might work in her favor. She met Brit’s gaze and nodded. “Thanks, Brit. Has Angie been to the tearoom over at The Bon? It’s a perfect place for lunch.” “Actually, Angie has her heart set on going to Dave’s,” Barb said. “I guess they do a mean burger.” Taylor frowned. “The bar over on Fifth? I didn’t realize they were

still open, let alone serving lunch.” Brit looked like she was going to burst out laughing, and Taylor shot her a warning look. “Angie knows the owner. I think they had a thing years ago when they both lived in Vegas.” Barb smiled. “The woman knows more people than I do, especially men. Look, I know she can be a little grating, but she has a good heart. And she’d do anything for her boys.”

Taylor focused on Barb’s words. Was that a veiled warning? Telling her that the Sullivan boy was off-limits? The more she thought about this, the more she knew Brit was right. Time to find out what she was up against. Taylor grabbed her purse from the desk drawer and slung it over her coral pantsuit. Not exactly bar clothes, but it would have to do. “I’d love to have lunch with you.” She waved to Brit and walked outside with Barb. Angie stood

waiting on the sidewalk with a halfsmoked cigarette in her hand. The woman blushed. “I’m working on stopping. It’s just harder than I thought it would be.” Barb put her arm around the older woman. “No worries, I’m not going to rat you out.” She glanced at Taylor and raised her eyebrows, urging the young gallery manager to agree. “None of my business,” Taylor said. She glanced down at her stacked platforms. “I should be

good for the walk, unless you want to drive?” “Heavens, no. We drive too much here.” Angie stubbed out her cigarette in a flowerpot sitting by the gallery door. Taylor cringed. If Sullivan took over the gallery they’d be selling authentic Indian headdresses and rodeo gear, and opening a beer bar in the back, sooner or later. She had to talk her folks out of this deal. Averting her eyes, she put on her best fake smile and brightly said, “Then we’re off.”

The inside of the bar was dark. Spilled beer, years of cigarette smoke, and grease from the kitchen assaulted Taylor as soon as she stepped inside. The three women sat in a booth. The red vinyl seats had turned brown from age, and the dark wood of the table was scratched and gnarled with use. Thankfully, someone had wiped it down before they arrived. A waitress or barmaid, Taylor wasn’t sure what role the woman held, dropped off three menus and three

plastic cups filled with water and ice. “What can I get you to drink?” the woman asked. Taylor looked up, ready to order a glass of white wine. She stopped mid-order when she noticed a tattoo on the top exposed part of the woman’s breast. It looked like … No, it couldn’t be. Taylor felt Angie’s and Barb’s gazes on her. “Sheryl, show Taylor the rest of your tattoo,” Angie said. “You’ll love this.”

The woman, Sheryl, grinned and leaned in closer. “You’re not the first to notice. I got this last month.” She pulled down her elastic neckline and Taylor was rewarded with the full view of a fully erect circumcised penis inked on the woman’s breast. “My husband likes to tell people it’s not at full scale, but he’s fooling himself. The man isn’t as well endowed as he thinks.” Taylor bit back a laugh. “Can I get a glass of white wine?”

Sheryl nodded, then listed off the available brands. Although they weren’t the quality of wines the gallery carried at openings, they weren’t that bad. Taylor ordered a dry chardonnay from Sun Valley winery, the same brand she kept at her house for those kind of days. After Angie and Barb ordered their own drinks, beer and a large coke, Sheryl disappeared, promising to be right back. “Sorry about the tattoo. Sheryl’s pretty proud of it. She says

her tips have tripled since she got inked.” Angie grinned. “I bet you don’t see that in the places you go.” Taylor laughed. “You’re right about that. I don’t think I’ve been in this bar since I was eighteen and trying not to get carded.” “Yeah, Gary had some issues with his bartenders when he took over the place. He had to put the fear of God into them. He’s gotten rid of the few that wouldn’t respect the law.” Angie studied the menu. “Gary?” Taylor asked.

“The owner.” “So his name’s not Dave?” She glanced at the top of the menu. Angie laughed. “Dave started the bar in the ’70s. He was a great guy, fun loving, had a wicked sense of humor. Gary kept the name after he bought the place, kind of like a tribute.” Sheryl came back, dropped off their drinks, and took their lunch order. “Ten minutes, at the most. We’re just like a chain place. You

can get in and out in your thirtyminute lunch hour.” “And still get your beer,” Barb added dryly when Sheryl was out of earshot. She held up her hands in mock surrender. “I know, I’m being a snob. But seriously, look at that guy over at the bar. You know he’s been here since it opened this morning.” “Probably never left last night,” Taylor added, turning to glance at the man. He wore jeans and a gray t-shirt, and had salt-and-pepper hair

that stood up in random places on his head. Angie sniffed. “You both are snobs. Nothing wrong with a man sitting at a bar all day. Maybe he’s homeless and this is the only place he can sit.” Barb leaned into Angie and gave her a hug. “You’re always looking for the best in people. I know; I shouldn’t judge.” “I just think you need to be more open to the lost souls in the world.” Angie’s fingers drummed on

the lacquered tabletop, diamond rings flashing in the glow cast from the neon sign lighting their table. Taylor took a long look at Angie. For all the bling around her neck and the bright yellow satin pants with matching floral-print shirt, the woman’s words didn’t match her sixties Barbie look. “My mom would tell me the same thing,” Taylor admitted. “My friends and I would go to the mall and laugh about someone’s outfit, or the way they were dressed. But if

my mom caught us, we knew we were in trouble. One day she took us to the rescue mission, and we served lunch for a week.” “Sounds like your mother raised you right.” Angie nodded. Taylor tilted her head. “Did you do the same thing to Jesse when he was a kid?” Angie’s face paled and tears filled her eyes. Taylor froze. What had she said? Finally Barb spoke up. “Angie didn’t raise the boys. They lived

with their dad.” Her quiet voice told Taylor there was much more to the story. “Oh.” Taylor dug into her purse and handed Angie a tissue. “I didn’t mean to be too personal.” Angie took the tissue and waved away Taylor’s apology. “No worries. My issues.” She blew her nose. “Barb went to school with James and Jesse in Shawnee. They were all friends.” Taylor focused on Barb. “Shawnee? Does that place even

have a school?” “Hey, it’s not that small. Okay, it’s not big like Boise, but yes, Shawnee had three schools: elementary, middle, and high school. I was friends with Lizzie, who dated James. Therefore, Jesse tagged along, too. We’ve been friends for years.” Taylor thought about Brit, who she’d met freshman year at Bishop Kelly. “My assistant and I went to high school together. She understands me.”

“Yeah, I get that. Lizzie was the only one I could talk to when my husband and I started having problems.” Barb twisted the ring on her left hand. Taylor hadn’t noticed it there before. Angie huffed. “No, Lizzie was the only one you told. You have to realize that once you’re in the Sullivan fold, you have family. We may be unusual, but we’re family.” Barb laughed. “Jesse came over the day I signed the annulment papers. He watched Sleepless in

Seattle with me for hours. I drank three bottles of wine that night.” “Wait, the annulment?” Taylor was confused. “Long story. Let’s just say, Hunter and I have been through some intense times. I tell him we should get that Chinese curse tattooed on our shoulders, the one that says ‘may your lives be interesting.’” Barb leaned back as Sheryl delivered the food. The smell of French fries and grease filled Taylor’s senses, and

her stomach growled. “I haven’t had a burger in years. Usually, we order sandwiches for lunch, and then I have a salad for dinner when I get home. My folks are gone a lot— either for work or traveling—so, I’ve been on my own.” Angie smiled. “You live at home then? I keep telling Jesse that it’s not unusual for an unmarried child to live with his parent. But he keeps telling me I need my own house when I’m in town. I’ve been

looking at one of those condos over by the river.” Taylor brightened. “Me, too. I thought, once the gallery gets settled in a year or two, I should be able to—” She cut off her thought, realizing that if Jesse continued with his plans to buy the gallery, her dream would be out of reach. If that happened, she’d have to dip into her trust fund or ask her parents for money to get her condo. Those were two things she didn’t want to do.

The table grew quiet as the impact of Taylor’s words hit the ladies. The women focused on their food, and all casual conversation stopped. Great, Taylor thought. Way to alienate friends and influence people. A man’s hand reached in and grabbed a couple of her fries. She slapped at it. “Hey!” Jesse Sullivan slipped in to the booth next to her. Heat coursed through her body and pooled in the

spot between her legs. Damn him and his crooked smile. “Sorry, they just looked too inviting. Besides, you can’t eat fries, not with that body.” Jesse half stood, leaning over the table to give his mother a kiss on the cheek. Sheryl returned to the table. “The usual, Jesse?” “Sounds good. Make sure the hot wings are really hot this time.” Jesse took a swig of the draft beer Sheryl had brought without asking.

Apparently, the man and his mother were regulars. “Who invited you?” Barb asked, pointing a fry at the newcomer. Jesse leaned back in the booth and smiled at his manager. “Now, Barbie, why are you being a brat? It’s not like I crashed your wedding, or something.” “Boy, you’re always showing up at the wrong time.” Barb grinned. “Hunter’s still peeved at you crashing in my hotel room the night after our first wedding. Every time

we leave for a rodeo, he checks to see if you have your own hotel reservation.” “He’s just doing his due diligence as the doting husband. Besides, I know not to touch sold goods. I get beaten up enough on the bulls; no way I want some angry husband messing with this pretty face.” Jesse ran his hand over his chin. “The face that didn’t get shaved this morning,” Angie observed.

Jesse leaned over to Taylor. “Now you understand why I sent these two over to the gallery this morning. If they’re all up in your business, maybe they’ll stay out of mine.” “Jesse.” Angie shook her finger at her youngest son. “You stop being a brat.” She frowned at the plate of chicken wings Sheryl just sat down in front of him. “Lord, do those things smell.” “Like heaven.” Jesse smiled and ripped into a wing. The smell of

Tabasco hit Taylor, and she coughed. “Wow.” She took a sip of her wine. “I’m not even eating them and I can taste the hot sauce.” Grinning, Jesse waved a drumlet near her. “I know, aren’t they amazing?” Angie laughed. “Better get used to it, Taylor. Now that you’re part of the gang, Jesse’s eating habits are one thing you just have to ignore.” Taylor smiled, but deep down she wondered if she was really part

of the gang. How had this family accepted her so quickly as a friend when she was working as hard as she could to get them out of her life? “Relax, Mom. Maybe Taylor’s looking for the exit door instead of being brainwashed into our little cult.” Jesse wiped his mouth with a paper napkin. “Mom, I mean, Angie, has this habit of moving too quickly in her relationships. If you don’t watch out, pretty soon she’ll be mother-henning you, too. And

you’ll be one of the family, like it or not.” Taylor ate her lunch and wondered why the prospect didn’t seem like such a bad idea.

Chapter 5 Jesse walked through the gallery alone. Yesterday’s lunch had gone long, and the three women had acted like best friends before they’d left Dave’s. The dark, old, dive bar had been the last place he thought prissy Miss Taylor would agree to eat. His mom had that effect on everyone, though. The ability to break down class barriers. He

wondered how Susan and her husband would react to the Angie experience. Standing in front of a modernist take on a landscape, Jesse found himself not thinking about the angles of the painting. Instead, he thought about the angles of Taylor’s face. He’d worked on the drawing of her for the last week, trying to find the missing spark, the look he saw every time their eyes met. But his skill level had failed him, and he’d started

over time and time again, frustrated with the results. Three weeks and this semester would be over. Would Susan agree to keep him on as a private student, even though he was taking over the gallery? Was there some sort of conflict in the two items? He hoped not. Besides, if everything worked out, he’d be more of a silent owner for the next few years, allowing Taylor to stay on and manage the gallery. If she agreed.

He stepped to the next painting, trying to focus on the technique. But his mind returned to Taylor. Maybe Angie was right. Maybe he was drawn more to the woman than the actual business. If Taylor wouldn’t stay he’d just hire a new gallery manager. Angie didn’t want to take over the business. She’d agreed to share the open receptionist position that a college student on summer break currently held. Angie didn’t love art, not the way Taylor did. Or the way a gallery

manager should, he corrected himself. The gallery manager didn’t have to be Taylor. His lips curled into a smile. It would just be a bonus if she stayed on. As if his thoughts had made her materialize, the girl he couldn’t capture on paper walked out of her office. With the suit behind her. The same man she’d had dinner with on Tuesday. Today, she wore a sleeveless summer shift dress that showed off her well-toned arms. No wonder the man kept showing up.

He was marking his territory, Jesse guessed. She walked the man to the door, then turned and spotted Jesse standing in the gallery. The girl had the grace to flush. She strolled toward him, and he could see her processing her thoughts as she made her way over. She nodded to the painting. “Nora Wilson is the artist. She sells well here. You’ll probably want to keep her happy if you take over.” Jesse cocked his head. “Don’t you mean when?”

Taylor flushed a beet red. “Yes, of course. Sorry for the poor choice of words.” She glanced at her watch. “I’m late for an appointment. Busy day.” She started to step away. “I was hoping I could shadow you today.” His words stopped her forward movement. Turning, she frowned. “I thought Angie and Barb were doing that yesterday.” Jesse leaned against the wall, watching her. “It’s a big investment. I’d like to know what I’m buying.”

She arched a brow at him. “How will shadowing me help?” “You’re the manager. The manager knows everything. Just ask Barb.” He let his gaze drop to her suntanned legs. Damn, the woman didn’t have a flaw on her body. Or at least the parts of her body you’ve seen. He inwardly shivered at the thought. He slowly brought his gaze back up to her face. His attention had been noticed, and now there was a hardness in her eyes. She was angry

with him. Probably for making her feel something after her suit of a boyfriend had just left. Oh, well. He watched her consider his request. Finally, he saw her surrender, and she sighed, verbalizing it. “Fine, I’m driving out to Baker City to meet with a potential artist. You sure you want to be stuck in a car for that long? With you? Anytime. “I’ll even drive.” She stopped in her office to grab her purse and let Brit know

they were leaving. The assistant smiled and waved at him like she thought they were going on a date, not a business drive. He wished. Taylor frowned at the girl as they left. As they left the gallery, Taylor slipped on a pair of sunglasses, hiding her eyes. He nodded to the Porsche sitting in the parking lot to the side of the gallery. A 1985, 944 model, the baby was his pride and joy. He’d bought the thing for pennies and had put thousands into

restoring the car to its former glory. Candy apple red, the car got its share of looks when he took it out for a drive. “Flashy,” Taylor admitted. “And so not what I expected. My father would kill you for this car.” “You should have seen it when I bought it. James told me I was out of my mind. That finding the parts alone would ruin me.” He held the passenger door open for her, watching as she slipped in. Her long, elegant legs were the last part

of her body to disappear into the Porsche. When he climbed into the driver’s side, he turned the keys, letting the engine sing. A smile tickled his lips. The car made him happy. He wasn’t proud of the fact, but it did. “So, you had to prove your brother wrong?” Taylor questioned. “No. Well, maybe. James is James. As the older brother, he has an opinion on everything.” Jesse turned to Taylor. “I love the car, but

James was right about one thing. It ran me an arm and a leg to restore her. I just make sure he doesn’t know how much.” “Angie said the two of you grew up with your dad. That must have been fun—living out in the country like that. Is that where you learned to ride bulls? Did your dad teach you?” Taylor pulled a slip of paper from her purse and handed it to him. “Key this into your GPS, it’s the guy’s address.”

Jesse typed the address into the navigator he’d had installed. When the map pulled up, he frowned. “Two hours, thirty minutes? You’re going to have to feed me lunch and dinner.” Taylor laughed. “Who said anything about food?” “I am driving, the least you can do is feed me.” Jesse pulled the car out into traffic, adjusting the rearview mirror. From his peripheral vision, he saw Taylor turning her head toward the gallery,

watching it like they were leaving forever. “That can be arranged,” she finally said after they’d turned the corner, and the building was no longer in sight. They reached the freeway and headed east before he answered her questions. “I’m surprised Angie said anything about Dad. She likes to pretend all that didn’t happen.” “I don’t understand.” Taylor turned down the stereo. “She

doesn’t like to talk about her divorce?” Jesse turned his head and looked at her. “She didn’t tell you, did she?” “Tell me what?” Jesse wondered if he even wanted Taylor to know about his sordid past. He sped up to pass a minivan that was slowing for the exit to Eagle, using the distraction to think. He considered his options. “Look, you can’t tell Angie I told you this. If she wants you to know,

you’ll know. But it’s hard for her to admit what she did, and I don’t want her hurt.” Taylor held her hands up. “I’m not going to hurt Angie. Or at least, I hope not. I don’t know what I said yesterday, but she teared up on me. So what really happened?” Jesse glanced at the GPS. Seeing he didn’t have a turnoff to worry about for miles, he decided to let her in. “When James and I were kids, Angie left Dad.”

“They got a divorce. It happens in the best of families, believe me.” Taylor checked her cell phone for messages. “Most of my senior class was playing the two-step home game, one week at mom’s, one at dad’s. I could never find anyone.” “No, well, yeah, they got a divorce, but we didn’t know that. One day we had a mother, the next we didn’t. Dad wouldn’t talk about it. He wouldn’t let us talk about her. We were just kids—James must have been six, me a year younger.

Once she was gone, Dad fell apart, and raising me fell on James.” Jesse paused. “Then Dad died a few years ago while he was on the way to one of my rodeos. The police found an empty flask in the truck when they pulled him out of the river.” Taylor didn’t say anything. Jesse glanced over at her, wondering what she was reading on her cell. Instead, her gaze was focused on him, her eyes wide. She bit her bottom lip. “No wonder she acted funny. I’m so

sorry, Jesse. I didn’t know.” “I’m okay. James is okay. But Mom, she likes to be called Angie, even by us. She’s kind of a mess about it.” Jesse stared at the road ahead. “I think she regretted leaving as soon as she got out of town, but Dad wouldn’t even let her talk to us. Hell, for years, James and I assumed she’d died somewhere along the way.” “How did you find her?” Taylor’s voice was quiet.

“She’d been following me on the rodeo circuit. Believe it or not, Jesse Sullivan isn’t that common of a name.” Jesse grinned. “One day, after a ride, she showed up at a bar where I’d been celebrating. James had already turned in for the night.” “What, she came up and said, ‘Hi, I’m your mother’?” “Kind of. I thought she was a kook. Then we got talking and she knew too much. She had a picture of the four of us, taken just before she left.” Jesse turned on the air

conditioner. “After that, I wasn’t an orphan anymore. She’s an interesting mom, that’s for sure, but I’m glad I have her.” “Did James feel the same way?” Taylor asked. “Not hardly. He’s struggled with the idea. But Lizzie’s helping, and Angie loves the kids.” Jesse paused. “I think he remembers the life we had before she left. And he missed her too much to just forgive a whim.”

“Of all the things you could have told me about your mother, about your family, really, this wasn’t what I expected.” Taylor put her hand on his arm. “Thanks.” Jesse pursed his lips together. “Well, I wouldn’t have said anything, but Angie is kind of hard to accept if you don’t know the background. She’s got her heart set on this receptionist thing.” Taylor laughed. “I know, she was trying it out yesterday

afternoon. I think she scared away more customers than came in.” “Sorry about that. Maybe you or Barb can take her shopping for work-appropriate clothes. Stuff that shows a little less cleavage?” Jesse grimaced. “I can’t believe I’m saying this about my mother. You’re lucky; Susan doesn’t embarrass you.” “Oh, if you only knew.” Taylor laughed. “Imagine being the kid whose mom brought paintings in for career day with nude models.

The boys were always asking if I wanted to go play artist.” Jesse’s mouth turned up in one corner. “So I won’t get to first base by asking if you want to see my sketches?” “You may get a knee to the groin, à la two years of self-defense classes.” Taylor focused on the farmland outside the window. But I really do have sketches, he thought. Would Taylor think I was a psycho if she ever saw the studies I’ve completed? One after

another, trying to get the arch of her cheekbone just right. Or the line of her nose. They were both silent for a while. She laughed. “Family can really mess with your head, you know?” Jesse smiled. “We have a lot in common, you and me. A lot in common.” ••• Taylor watched Jesse as he listened to the artist talk about the paintings they’d come to preview. The two

men talked color, line, and light, like they’d been studying together for years. She had to admit, she was impressed. For a bull rider, the man knew his stuff about art. She’d been trying to sign Marvin to a show for years. He’d always put her off, claiming he just wasn’t ready. She’d lost count of the number of times she’d driven out here, her hopes high on the drive to Oregon and depressed on the way home. Jesse not only had the artist’s signature on the contract, the man had agreed

to do four exclusive projects for the show. Now the two were settling on a theme. She should feel happy. But all she could see was the gallery slipping away from her. Mike had been clear: there wasn’t a legal leg to stand on for her to challenge her parents’ sale of the gallery. Her grandfather had left the business solely in the hands of his one and only daughter. Not daughter and granddaughter. But that’s what she knew her grandpa had wanted. For

Main Street to be passed down to her when the time came. That’s why she’d worked so hard to bring in new talent, new buyers. She’d even started a web page for the company. Now Mr. Charming over there would reap the rewards of her hard work, and she’d be relegated down to employee status. Not owner. Her grandfather wanted her to take over the gallery, and she wouldn’t let him down. Not just because Jesse wanted to play artist.

Taylor wasn’t sure if that’s what frustrated her the most—the title. She knew the money wasn’t the issue; she’d been assured her inheritance would be substantial. And if she needed money she could always turn to the trust her grandfather left her. But everything couldn’t be about money, could it? What about family tradition? What about—she searched for the right word—power? Maybe, she thought, maybe I’m worried about losing my status in the art community. She

shook her head and turned back to the two men discussing artwork. She knew she should participate in the conversation, but she had decided on the way here that Jesse Sullivan needed a taste of what he was buying. She wanted him to feel the pain of trying to sign an artist who so desperately needed to be showcased, only to be turned away. Yet, Jesse hadn’t been turned away. Instead, Marvin had welcomed him like a long lost brother. She wanted to think she’d

softened him up the last few years. But it was Jesse who had worked his magic. And she’d have to swallow her pride and let him know he’d done a good, no, great job today. Even if the words choked her like the fast food hamburger they’d be having on the way home. Jesse looked over at her and smiled, making a thumbs-up gesture when Marvin turned his back. The guy was having fun. And she was the one who set him up for success.

She was doomed. Thirty minutes later they were on their way back to Boise with Marvin’s portfolio on the back seat. “So we can set up a show date now and get the paintings shipped?” Jesse asked. “Not until we finalize the contract. It has to go to Mike, our lawyer, first. He checks out all the legal stuff then sends a formal copy back to Marvin. I guess we’ll have to figure out who is signing—you or my dad. I don’t know if you want to

be fettered to a contract you didn’t vet.” She looked at him. “Besides, I did all of the leg work; the contract should be considered my product.” “I don’t know, he didn’t seem very interested until I started talking. Besides, your lawyer or mine, it’s all the same. They all just want to be paid,” Jesse said. “But you’re right; we probably better decide if this is a pre-sale item or something to happen afterward.” Jesse glanced over at her. “You a betting kind of girl?”

“I don’t understand.” A headache was blooming in the back of her skull. Probably karma for trying to keep Jesse from knowing she was trying to outbid him for the gallery. She never had been a good liar. Taylor reached back and massaged her neck. Maybe an appointment at the spa wouldn’t be a bad idea. Jesse pulled the car onto the exit ramp leading toward Ontario. Ontario was the first town in Oregon that they’d passed heading

in to meet with Marvin. It was the last town in Oregon they were going to pass on their way back to Idaho. “What are you doing?” Taylor closed her eyes. All she wanted to do was to go home. She could open a bottle of wine and sit in the hot tub on her deck. Alone. Without the hunk of a bull rider playing games with her. “You’re buying me lunch. There’s a great steakhouse here in town. And, since it’s late for lunch, early for dinner, I’ll take one meal

for the two you owe me.” Jesse slowed the car to a stop at the light. When it turned green, he pulled onto the main street of town. “And I think we can determine who gets credit for Marvin’s contract at the same time.” “I still don’t understand.” Taylor’s stomach growled at the thought of food. She wasn’t going to argue. Besides, he was driving. “You’ll see after we eat.” Jesse grinned. “I just want to warn you, I’m kind of a big thing here.”

“My God. You have such an ego.” Taylor shook her head. She instantly regretted the motion and reached into her purse for the bottle of pain reliever she kept for moments like this. She shook out two pills, then washed them down with the rest of her water. She threw the empty water bottle onto the back seat. “Just go ahead and make yourself at home,” Jesse said. Taylor closed her eyes and prayed for the pills to take effect.

“I’ll get it when we stop for dinner. I promise I’m not going to trash your pretty car.” “Better not, or I’ll stop taking you places.” Jesse’s voice sounded far away and Taylor realized she could easily fall asleep if she had half a second.

Chapter 6 The warmth of a hand on her shoulder caused Taylor to turn. Had the car stopped? Jesse stood outside her open door. She wiped her hand over her eyes. “Sorry. Must have fallen asleep.” “You think? Come on, Sleeping Beauty, let’s get that dinner you promised me.” Jesse pulled her out of the car and they walked into the

old building. The outside looked more like the Wild West than a modern steakhouse. She glanced at the pair of rockers sitting on the wooden deck—a checkers game sat forgotten between the oak chairs. “Where are we?” She stopped in the middle of the porch, glancing at the old metal signs on the wall. The place looked like it hadn’t been open in years. Momentarily, fear flitted through her mind. Was she being stupid? What did she really know about Jesse Sullivan, besides

the fact that her mom liked the guy? Her mom didn’t have the best radar for freaks. Had the road trip been a mistake? She felt in her purse for her cell. “Relax, I’m not leading you astray. Yet.” Somehow the man seemed to know what she was thinking before she opened her mouth. Jesse put a hand on the small of her back and eased her through the black-painted glass doors.

As soon as they entered, the sound of an old song filled her ears and tickled at her memory. Was that Patsy Cline or a newish version of the song by that teenaged wonder kid? “Blue,” that was the song name, and the woman’s voice crooned over the mostly-empty dining room. A wooden bar complete with mirrored shelves and liquor bottles graced the left side of the room. On the right, a dance floor sat next to a small, darkened stage.

“Jesse Sullivan, what are you doing in town? I know there isn’t a rodeo this week,” a rough female voice called out from behind the bar. Jesse turned them toward the voice. “Maggie, this is Taylor.” Jesse leaned over the bar and kissed the older woman on the cheek. “How have you been? George still giving you a hard time?” “That ex-husband of mine should be drawn and quartered. But he’s been out of town on a job site

the last few months, so it’s easier just to avoid his calls.” Maggie nodded at Taylor. “How’d this rangy old cowboy talk you into being seen with him? You’re a beautiful girl, I’m sure you could do better.” Jesse put his hand on his chest and faked recoil from the shot. “You’re breaking my heart, Maggie. Why do you have to treat me so badly?” Maggie laughed. It was a harsh sound made deeper from, what Taylor could imagine, years of

breathing in the smoke from bar patrons. If the woman didn’t indulge in cigarettes herself. “I’m on a crusade to make sure that the women you date know the whole story, Jesse Sullivan, not just the fairy tale you spin.” She turned her focus back to Taylor, flipping a clean white bar towel over her shoulder. Her eyes narrowed and Taylor felt the steel behind the woman’s gaze, sizing her up even as she kept her words light and friendly. “I can’t count the number

of hearts this boy has broken in this town alone.” “You make me sound like a gigolo. I can’t help it if they get the wrong idea when I’m nice to someone.” He nodded toward the dining room. “Too early to get some food? The woman’s a slave driver. I haven’t eaten since breakfast.” Taylor slapped his arm. “Hey, I didn’t even ask you to come along, you invited yourself.” “Now, why doesn’t that surprise me?” Maggie’s voice had a

distinct drawl, and Taylor wondered if the Pacific Northwest wasn’t the woman’s first home. Was that a hint of Texas twang in her voice? Jesse held his hands up in mock surrender. “I give up. Having two of you attacking me just isn’t fair.” “Poor, misunderstood bull rider,” Maggie quipped. She pointed to a table near the dance floor. “Go sit, and I’ll send one of the girls out to get your order. Can I pull you something from the bar?”

“Two drafts?” Jesse glanced at Taylor. “Unless you’d like something different?” Taylor shrugged, realizing her headache had disappeared during the short nap. “As long as it’s light, draft is fine.” Jesse slapped his stomach. “I have to watch my girlish figure.” Shaking her head, Taylor smiled at Maggie. “It was nice to meet you.” “Just keep the boy in line; that’s all the advice I can give you.”

Maggie reached for the chilled glasses. “Get settled. I’ll bring these over in a second.” “You know I’m right here and can hear you, right?” Jesse shrugged. “Come on, Taylor, we’ve been dismissed.” He took her arm and led her to the table farthest away from the bar. He raised his voice and said, “Maggie can’t eavesdrop on us all the way over here.” “You’re not all that interesting, bull rider,” Maggie called back.

He chuckled as he held out a chair for Taylor. “The woman loves me; what can I say. I told you I was kind of a big deal here.” “I think you overestimate your charm, Mr. Sullivan,” Taylor said. Jesse sat across from her, the table small enough that she could feel the heat from his legs so close to her own. He flashed what she’d come to think of as his promotional smile. “I think you protest too much.”

A waitress slapped two glasses of water on the table along with two menus. “Hi, Jesse.” “Hey, Amanda.” Jesse didn’t even look at the girl. Taylor could feel the jealousy flowing from the waitress. “Can you bring us an order of wings?” “Whatever.” The girl stomped off. Taylor watched her bang through the kitchen door. “One of your exes?”

Jesse leaned back, running his hand through his hair. “That’s Maggie’s daughter. She’s way too young, but boy, the girl is determined.” He lifted his eyebrows. “You really got her in a snit.” “Me? What did I do?” Taylor looked up from the menu and found Jesse staring. He reached out and pushed a wayward lock of hair off her shoulder. “You came in with me.”

Taylor could feel the blush heat her cheeks, even as she willed it away. She was not interested in Jesse Sullivan, not in that way. Not now, not ever. He was her future employer, that’s all. And if she had her way, he wouldn’t even be that. Mike’s call that morning had made her realize she needed to be proactive. Maybe even buy the gallery herself? If she cashed out the available funds from the trust fund her grandfather set up, she’d still have to borrow heavily. The

thought of that much debt turned her stomach, and she pushed away the menu. “Not hungry?” Jesse stared at her like she had spoken. “I just know what I want.” She smiled as his eyes widened a bit at the statement. Time to break his heart. Or dampen his ego just a bit. “Cheeseburger and fries.” “Not what I thought you were going to say.” Jesse turned his attention back to the menu. “I

figured you’d go for the rib-eye dinner.” “I could be persuaded, if I wasn’t paying. Or, if the gallery wasn’t paying,” she corrected herself. “We have a policy of limiting meals to a fifteen dollar max, except for potential clients and artists. And you are neither. Welcome to the world of corporate art.” “You just want me to buy you dinner.” Jesse shook his head.

“Pitiful how low a girl will stoop to be a part of the Jesse show.” The waitress returned, still throwing mooning looks at Jesse and hate-filled glances at Taylor. Jesse sighed. “I have to buy, just so you can experience the joy that a steak from Maggie’s brings.” Taylor brightened, opening the menu. “In that case, I’ll have the rib-eye and lobster, steamed veggies over the fettuccini pasta, and a side salad with light Italian on the side.”

“Ouch.” Jesse faked a heart attack. “You know how to hit a guy where it hurts.” Taylor arched an eyebrow. “The wallet?” Jesse nodded and ordered his own steak. “Bring us two more drafts while you’re at it.” The girl spun on her booted heel and left the table. Taylor watched her stop by the bar to leave the drink order with her mother before disappearing into the kitchen.

“Do you think I should hire a food taster before I eat?” Taylor stared at the swinging kitchen door. She hadn’t felt a girl’s hatred that intense since high school. Tom, the school bad boy, had dropped his long-term, stoner girlfriend and started calling Taylor instead. Coincidentally, that particular bad boy was a gifted artist who hadn’t had a clue. He had later admitted that he’d needed Taylor to introduce him to her grandfather.

Tom still used the gallery to sell his landscapes. He was developing quite a following and had even been interviewed by several local magazines. He hadn’t broken in yet, but Taylor knew it was only a matter of time. The guy was good. Very good. She looked at Jesse, and for a second, she could see what the waitress saw in him. The guy was nice, sensitive, and not bad looking. If he didn’t have an ego the size of undeveloped Canada, he might even

be date-worthy. She shook her head. Jesse Sullivan was the enemy. And this was the best shot she’d have to get intel on the guy. She grinned, thinking of herself as a secret spy, and wondered if the beer was clouding her judgment a tiny bit. She decided she didn’t really care and took another drink. While they ate their dinner, Jesse kept her entertained with stories from the road. Riders who’d shown up for their ride after a desperate search for their lucky

rope. Or their lucky bandana. “Riders are a superstitious bunch. None of them own a black cat or would step on a crack on a bet. The life has its risks; pretending that the danger can be staved off with luck is a coping mechanism.” “You’re smart,” she said, regretting the compliment as soon as it left her mouth. She ducked her head and asked another question. “What are your superstitions?” “Can’t tell you.” He cut one last piece off his steak before he pushed

the plate away. Taylor leaned forward. Now this was getting interesting. “Why not?” “If I tell you, they lose their magic.” Jesse actually blushed. “Look, I know it’s dumb, but it’s kind of like telling your birthday wish after you blow out your candles. It’s just not done.” “I would never have pegged you as a woo-woo guy.” She finished off her last bites and leaned back and groaned. “I’m going to have to buy

all new pants. I think I just gained ten pounds while sitting here.” Maggie came by the table to clear the plates. “That’s the best compliment we’ve had in years. I’ll tell Duke you enjoyed your meal.” “Duke?” Taylor cocked her head and watched Maggie. Maggie’s eyes were soft as she said, “My husband. He’s our cook.” “And an ex-champion bull rider, himself. The man is a legend. The bulls he rode during the day, well, he was the only one who could

stay on Satin, ever. They had to retire the bull after Duke retired. The bull riding association didn’t think it would be suitable for someone else to master the bull because of its aging body.” Jesse’s hands flew all over the place when he was excited and telling a story. “Wait, the bull’s name was Satin?” Taylor had no clue on the proper names for bulls in the business, but Satin? That sounded like a kitten.

Jesse laughed. “His black coat was as smooth as silk and riders just slipped off him.” “And now Duke cooks here. No wonder you wanted to come me to come with you.” Taylor smiled at Maggie. “Be sure to tell your husband how much I enjoyed dinner.” “I’ll tell him you’re here.” Maggie put a hand on Jesse’s shoulder. “He’ll sure be glad to see you. You heading out to Wyoming this weekend?”

“Yep. I’ve got three more months I promised Barb I’d ride. Then I’m done for the year. Well, unless I get into the finals. Which would mean I’d have to take one last ride.” Jesse sounded unsure, almost hesitant. “It’s for the best. You’ve about used up your lucky-charm points, you realize that, right?” Maggie nodded to the empty glasses. “Why don’t I bring you over a pitcher?” “Oh, I think we’re about done,” Taylor said at the same time as

Jesse nodded. He grinned at her. “We still haven’t ironed out the details of who gets credit for the contract we signed this afternoon.” He stood and spoke to Maggie. “Bring the pitcher over to the dart board. Is my dart case still under the bar?” “Of course.” Maggie nodded at Taylor. “I’ll bring you a good set, too. If you have a chance against this guy it won’t be with house darts.” Then she disappeared into the back room.

“Why do I feel like the two of you are speaking a foreign language? What the heck are house darts?” Taylor followed Jesse deeper into the bar. They stopped in front of three flashing, soft-tip dartboards. On the floor lay a piece of vinyl marking the throw line. Taylor pointed to the neon orange strip. “Where’s the women’s tee?” Jesse pressed his lips together, trying to suppress a laugh, but Taylor saw it.

“What dumb thing did I say now?” Taylor set her purse on the floor next to a table where Jesse had laid out a handful of quarters and his beer glass. She drained her glass and set it on the table as well. “You’re thinking about golf. There’s not a shorter throw line for women.” He cocked his head and looked at her. “Unless you’re just playing me? No way you could have gotten out of college without playing one game of darts at a local dive bar.”

“I don’t know where you went to school, but my college days were filled with hours in the library museum studying the masters.” Maggie set a case down on the table for Jesse and handed Taylor a set of heavy darts. In her other hand she held a set of three neonyellow plastic darts that she held up for Taylor to see. “These are house darts.” Maggie handed them to Taylor. “Take one and compare the weight with the others.”

Taylor felt the light, cheap plastic dart. She looked at Maggie. “So heavier is better?” Jesse held out his own darts, and Taylor took one, comparing it to the other two. She glanced up, frowning. He grinned. “It depends on the thrower. My darts are almost as light as house darts, even though they’re titanium.” “And pricey as hell,” Maggie added. “You don’t know how many people I have to take that case away

from. I think you should consider taking it home with you.” “I don’t play anywhere but here.” Jesse took the dart back and walked up to the line. He leaned his body over the vinyl tape, reached out his arm and threw his first dart. It landed just outside the bull’s-eye. Taylor watched as he adjusted his stance. Jesse lined up his body so his right shoulder was parallel to the bull’s-eye on the board. By the third dart, he’d hit his target. Crap, what had she gotten herself into?

She handed the house dart back to Maggie with a slight smile. “I guess I better get practicing.” Maggie watched Jesse throw another three darts. “My money’s on you. Jesse’s a great player when his head’s in the game. But I think he’s got something else on his mind tonight.” She grinned at Taylor. “Nice to meet you. I hope you come back, with or without that one.” “I hear you,” Jesse called out from the line, continuing to throw.

Taylor poured a fresh glass of beer from the pitcher Maggie had brought. “I just might have to do that.” They threw darts for over ten minutes before Jesse stopped and returned to the table. He poured himself another beer and watched her for a while. Conscious of his eyes on her, Taylor tried to focus on the way the dart felt when it left her hand. She thought about where she wanted it to land. Not too hard, not too soft,

the power behind the dart had to be just right to keep it flying in the direction of the intended target. Finally, she returned to the table, laying her darts down to take a sip from her glass. “You’re good,” Jesse said. “So I guess I was right about the college dive bar obsession.” “No. Like I said, in college I focused on studying. It was after I graduated that I fell in love with dive bars.”

“That’s my girl.” Jesse smiled. Her heart was beating too fast. The bar suddenly felt hot. Had he meant the words, or was that a casual throwaway line for Jesse the heartbreaker? He continued before she could say anything. “Now about that wager.” “When did we say we were playing darts to settle this?” Jesse glanced around the bar. “Shuffleboard, pool, or Hunter’s Gallery?”

Taylor followed his gaze. She’d never shot a gun in her life, real or virtual. Shuffleboard seemed, well, just wrong. And pool, she knew she totally sucked there. “Fine, darts. But we need rules.” “I win three out of five games, and you sleep with me.” Jesse toyed with the quarters. “What did you say?” Taylor couldn’t breathe. He grinned his million-dollar smile that Taylor bet worked on most women. “Just seeing if you

were paying attention.” He leaned closer. “Rules. Three out of five, winner of each game goes first, loser chooses the game. Winner at the end gets credit for the contract.” Taylor hesitated, wondering just how good Jesse was at this game. Maybe she should laugh his idea off and offer to share the credit. She watched him continue to juggle the quarters. “Winner of each game buys the drinks.” His eyes widened—she’d surprised him. That could work in

her favor. She nodded to the board. “Go set it up and let’s get this match started.” She won the first game, surprising both herself and Jesse. For her first win, she ordered two shots of cinnamon firewater, a drink her father had bought her when she’d turned of-age. No one could handle the burn unless they’d been indoctrinated into the firewater family. She’d surprised him again with the order. She was

definitely keeping the boy on his toes. When he won the second game, Taylor wasn’t surprised. She should have seen Jesse’s tequila shot order as a warning sign. However, the beer and firewater had already dulled the part of her brain screaming at her that this was a terrible idea. He looked smug when she chose Cricket, a game where you had to hit your target. He must have thought that’s why he was winning.

Taylor knew better; she was just warming up. She’d been less than honest about her dart history, but he didn’t need to know that. When she won game three, he stood motionless, staring at her. “You’ve played before,” he said. Shrugging, she ordered another firewater shot. He tapped her hand. “You keep a lot of secrets, you know.” She watched him shoot the drink, slamming the empty glass

upside down on the tray. Buddy, you have no idea.

Chapter 7 Two hours later, they stumbled into the back of a taxi Maggie had called to take them to a local hotel. “Take us somewhere that has late-night room service.” The man in the front laughed. “Do you know where you are? Ontario’s not a big city. Besides, with the livestock show in town,

Maggie was lucky to get you a room anywhere.” “Maggie got us a room?” Jesse’s head hurt trying to follow the taxi driver’s words. He never felt alcohol. Of course, he’d never mixed firewater with tequila before. Taylor twisted him in more ways than he cared to admit. She confused him. Especially when she laid her head on his shoulder after they got into the cab. Her blond hair tickled his cheek, and the floral

smell of her hair flooded his senses. Food, they needed food. “Two rooms. She got us two rooms, right?” Taylor murmured from his chest, apparently still alive. He smiled at her drunken defiance. The girl had backbone, that much was obvious. “Can we stop by a drive-in on the way to the motel?” “Best burgers in town up ahead on your right. Will that work?” The taxi driver looked at him in the

rearview. Jesse saw his eyes drop to Taylor in an appreciative glance. Why wasn’t this girl dating, engaged, or hell, even married off? Jesse couldn’t imagine. Then Angie’s voice echoed in his head when he complained about everyone hooking up around him. “You’re just waiting for the one.” Maybe that was Taylor’s problem, too. She hadn’t found the one. He turned his focus back to the driver. “Works for me.”

The car slowed as they pulled into the drive-through, and the driver inched the car forward so Jesse could order. “A monster cheeseburger with bacon.” He stopped when Taylor lifted her head. “Two. With curly fries. And a large coke,” she mumbled to herself and laid her head back down. Jesse smiled and repeated the order into the speaker. He pulled his wallet out and paid for the food. The smell of grease and beef made

his stomach growl as soon as the server handed him a large bag. Taylor lifted her head and shifted in her seat in order to take a drink from one of the cups. A loud burp seemed to surprise her when it followed. “God, don’t let me drink with you again. Can’t you ever let someone win?” Jesse opened the bag and offered her a fry. She grabbed a handful, glancing around the dark streets. “Where are we going?”

The driver answered her. “Cowboy’s Bunk Motel over on King Street. Maggie knows the owner.” Jesse glanced at the taxi driver’s posted license for a name. “Todd, you seem to know a lot about Maggie.” The kid, in his early twenties, blushed. “I kind of hang out there when I’m not driving.” Jesse wondered if the kid hung out for the food or to see Amanda. He’d bet from the reaction, it was Amanda.

In less than five minutes, they were at the motel. Jesse helped Taylor out of the cab and paid Todd, adding in a hefty tip. The older woman at the desk turned down the television she’d been watching. “You must be Jesse and Taylor. Your room is at the end of the row.” She slid a key toward them. “Fifty bucks. Cash, check, or charge, doesn’t matter to me.” “Two rooms,” Taylor said. The woman’s eyebrows rose as she looked at the two. Jesse felt her

take in their inebriated state, the bags of takeout, and then the woman laughed. “Sorry, girly. You’re just going to have to make up with your stud muffin ’cause you got the last room I had.” “He’s not my stud muffin,” Taylor mumbled. Jesse hoped he’d be able to get her to the room before she fell asleep. He slid the cash toward the motel clerk and smiled. “One room will be fine, thanks.” He took the key and put his hand on Taylor’s

back, steering her out the door toward the overhang. The motel’s rooms all opened up onto the parking lot, and Jesse found theirs at the end of the row. The Cowboy’s Bunk looked like it had been built in the fifties and had never seen a remodel. It was so out of date that it’d now qualify as retro-modern. He unlocked the door, worried what they’d find. When he flipped on the light, he was pleasantly surprised. The room was clean and smelled of lemon. He set the food

sack on the small table in front of the window and unpacked their late-night snack. Taylor fell into one of the chairs. “You won.” “You’ve already forgotten?” He sat across from her, unwrapping his burger. She glared at him as she took a large bite, wiped her mouth, and responded. “Nope, just stating a fact. I worked that artist for years, and you walk in, and in one visit

you convince him to use the gallery.” “What can I say, I’m good with people. It’s all those years of interviews on the rodeo circuit. People are drawn to happy people.” He dipped a fry into the special sauce provided. “These would be better with horseradish sauce.” “You’re saying I’m not a happy person?” Taylor pointed her halfeaten burger at him. “Sometimes, I think you aren’t happy at all. Not at work, not in

your own skin.” He stroked the top of her hand holding the burger. “Why aren’t you happy, Taylor? You’ve got it all.” A laugh erupted. “Seriously? What do I have?” “A family who loves you. A great job. An amazing education. Friends. You look like a million bucks.” Jesse shook his head. “What don’t you have?” Taylor polished off her hamburger before answering. “I live with my parents. The only person

who ever noticed anything I did, my grandfather, died last year. I work too much and have no life outside the gallery and the events my folks insist I attend.” She flipped her hair back. “The good looks are genetic. Not something I earned, or even worked at, so they don’t count. Besides, there are a lot of pretty women. I want to be more than that.” “So you’re not dating anyone?” Jesse pressed, his heart slowing a bit while he waited for an answer.

“That’s what you take away from this entire discussion? I’m admitting to my failed life, and you focus on my dating schedule?” Taylor wadded up the wrapper and threw it into the bag. “Three points.” “Bag’s too close—I’ll give you two.” Jesse smiled. “I don’t think you have a failed life. Look at me.” “Three or four time bull riding champion? Now working on owning an art gallery along with what, one or two working ranches?” Taylor

sipped on her drink. “Sounds like a complete failure to me.” “Look past the trappings. My brother is married to his high school sweetheart with three kids now. My manager just found her soulmate, even though she had to marry the guy twice to realize it.” Jesse wadded his own wrappings up, leaned back, and shot. The paper landed gracefully inside the paper bag. “And I don’t own a speck of land. The place I stay at in Boise

is my brother’s. Tell me, who’s the loser?” “Then get married. Have baby bull riders. There must be a lot of women out there wanting to play that role.” Taylor rolled her eyes. “Like Amanda.” “I think our taxi driver has his heart set on little Miss Amanda. I wonder if she knows it yet.” He chuckled. “But you’re right; there are plenty of women who want to ‘play’ the part.” He used air quotes to emphasize his words.

“You don’t know who you’ll fall in love with until you try.” He shook his head. “Now, I think you’re wrong there. You can’t try to be in love. Either it happens, or it doesn’t. Believe me, I’ve tried out a lot of women.” “You sound like a man whore.” She laughed. “I probably was.” He stared at her face, noticing the curve that he’d tried so hard to capture that day in class. No, he hadn’t ever been in love. Not before. Now all he

could do was think about her. Make excuses to be with her. Even now, sitting so close to her, a bed within arm’s reach, all he wanted to do was reach out and touch her face. To let his fingers trace the curve that had eluded him as he tried to sketch her. “Now you want true love?” she asked, her voice breathless. “Would you believe me if I said yes?” Jesse touched her hand, one finger caressing the open palm.

“Tonight? I’d believe you if you told me you were Elvis reincarnated.” She smiled and leaned forward, kissing him over the table, her lips so soft, but so needy. His head swam in images. Taylor laughing at the opening, her thoughtful gaze during the visit to the artist, the wind blowing through her hair on the drive here. Taylor. Something clicked in the back of his mind as if he’d been looking for her all his life. He pulled her closer, wanting more. The smell of

cinnamon alcohol broke through the spell. He gently pushed her aside. “You’re drunk.” “True, but I know what I want. Let me just be Taylor. Just for tonight.” She stood and held out her hand to him. “I promise I’ll respect you in the morning.” And he went to her. ••• Sunlight streamed into the room through a crack in the cowboy-print

curtains. Her head pounded. She rolled away from the light to face the bathroom, and realized she was alone in the bed. Taylor sat up, pulling the sheet around her. She took in the room that had seemed charming last night. In the bright morning light the décor just seemed walk-of-shame sad. A bottle of water and a singleuse pack of extra-strength OTC painkiller sat on the end table next to a note. She picked it up and read aloud to the empty room. “Take

these. See you soon. Your ride will be here at nine. Jesse.” She shook her head, then winced at the pain. Unscrewing the cap, she took the painkillers and then downed the water. Stupid to get drunk with Jesse Sullivan. Stupid to open her heart. If she remembered correctly, she’d been the one to say, “Yes, let’s have wild monkey sex.” All after, he’d told her he was looking for more than just a good time. She was now a part of Jesse’s harem.

She closed her eyes, remembering last night. How gentle he’d been. How his gaze had searched her face. She had vague memories of kissing and touching. Had they done anything more? She couldn’t remember. Her clearest memory was of cuddling with Jesse while he mumbled words she couldn’t quite remember into her ear. He kept repeating her name, over and over. Taylor, Taylor. “Stop it.” She forced her eyes open and glanced at the clock. 8:30.

If his note was right, she’d be out of here in thirty minutes. She headed to the shower to wash away the memories of last night from her body, and hopefully, from her mind. The knock on the door came right at nine. Dressed in last night’s clothes, Taylor grabbed her purse and checked herself out in the mirror. No way around it, she looked like the poster child for the walk of shame. Grimacing, she opened the door.

Angie stood there, her big hair gleaming in the sunshine. For the love of God, was she wearing a leopard-print stretch jumpsuit with kitten heels? She jangled keys in front of her. “Hey. You look … Well, let’s just get you home so you can freshen up before you go into the gallery.” Taylor opened the door wider, letting Angie in. “How did you get here?” Glancing around the parking

lot she saw only one car parked a few slots down. “Jesse called me. He left early for Boise and didn’t want to wake you. He’s got to leave on time for the rodeo this weekend. If he misses another interview, Barb’s going to wring his neck.” She glanced at her watch. “He left about two hours ago. I’ve been having coffee with Maggie.” “He called you to come and get me?” Taylor didn’t know if she was still a little woozy from last night,

or if she’d just stepped into a weird Jesse-world where his mommy cleaned up his one-night stand mistakes. She figured the latter. They walked over to the car, and Taylor slid into the passenger seat. “Look, I wasn’t the best role model for my sons. And their dad, well, he kind of fell apart after I left. I feel bad about that. But neither Jesse nor James learned how to say the right things or deal with real feelings.” Angie pulled out a compact and checked her ruby-red

lipstick. Deciding she’d missed a spot, she reapplied another coat. “So he asks his mom to clean up his messes,” Taylor said. Angie gunned the engine and pulled out of the parking lot. Angie put her lipstick back into her open purse and focused on Taylor. “Now that’s where you’re wrong. The fact that he left is a good thing.” “In what possible way could running out after a one-night stand be considered a good thing?” Taylor

asked. Angie pulled the car up to a drive-through coffee shack. It was only large enough for two people to stand in and make coffee all day. Taylor found her wallet in her purse, pushing aside the signed contract. “I’m buying, you want something?” “Large, black,” Angie ordered and handed Taylor’s twenty over to pay for their coffees. The window to the coffee shack closed. She added, “He would have stayed if he hadn’t been scared out of his mind. And

the only reason he’d be scared after a night with a beautiful woman?” “How the hell would I know?” Taylor leaned her head back and closed her eyes. The coffee shack employee handed Angie the two cups, filling the small interior with the dark roast aroma. Angie angled the car back onto the street and took the entrance to the freeway headed toward Boise. The woman drove like she was on a NASCAR track. Taylor tugged on her seatbelt.

Once the car had merged into the light traffic, she glanced at Angie. “Fine, I give up, what would scare the Bull Rider Jesse Sullivan?” “You have my youngest son on the ropes. Even Maggie saw it last night.” Angie lightly tapped Taylor on the hand. “Jesse’s in love.”

Chapter 8 When Angie dropped Taylor off at the parking lot in back of the gallery, she quickly unlocked the car and headed to the house, hoping no one saw her walk of shame. At the DeMarco house, Taylor quietly snuck in, only to find her mom and dad had already left. It was after one in the afternoon by the time

Taylor arrived at the gallery, way past her normal schedule. Brit had opened and was working with a corporate customer when Taylor walked in. Taylor pointed to her office and disappeared behind the door as quickly as she could without breaking into a run. Angie had to be wrong. I bet she says that to all of Jesse’s girls. She stared at the computer as it booted up, willing her mind to get lost in the day-to-day gallery

activities. Next week, they had a teacher from the nearby elementary school bringing a class in for a field trip. She’d have to have Brit do the tour and ask Angie to work earlier that day. She could just imagine the commentary Angie would provide for the kids. She adjusted the work schedule, thankful Angie was scheduled late today. Maybe by the time she saw Jesse’s mom again, Taylor would have already gotten the ‘Dear Jane e-mail or text from

Jesse. Then she wouldn’t have to think about his mom’s words. She pulled the contract out of her purse and stuffed it into a file, pushing it aside on her desk. She should be ecstatic about bringing in a new talent to the gallery. She should be thinking about scheduling the show’s opening, sending the contract over to the lawyers to get it finalized, and setting it up in the gallery’s accounting system. She should be working.

She jumped when her phone rang. Stupid, she thought, and clicked the phone to answer. “Taylor DeMarco.” At first, she didn’t think anyone was on the line, and she checked the display to see if she’d been disconnected. “Hello?” “You got back.” Jesse’s voice rumbled through the phone and she thought of him whispering her name over and over in her ear last night. She pressed her lips together, willing away the memory. “No

thanks to you. Who dumps a date an hour away from home?” He chuckled, and she squirmed at the sound. She should have pretended it didn’t matter. Once again, he had the upper hand. “Didn’t you tell me it wasn’t a date?” Before she could answer, he continued. “Sorry about that. I told Barb I’d be here for an early interview, so I had a plane to catch. And you looked so sweet, snoring your way through your dreams.”

“I don’t snore.” Did she? She hadn’t slept with anyone for years. “Whatever you have to tell yourself, sweetheart. Anyway, what are you doing this weekend?” Jesse paused, then added, “Can you come to Wyoming?” “Wyoming, vacation hot spot to the stars? Actually, I was just telling Brit how I wanted to spend a hot, dry weekend in Wyoming. Just me and the tumbleweeds.” She bit her lip.

“Seriously, it’s not that bad. And I’ll make up for this morning by taking you out to dinner after the rodeo tonight.” He paused. “I think we should talk. We’re going to be working together and I’d hate for last night to, well, mess with our business relationship.” Taylor’s heart sank. He was mending fences because of the gallery. “We could talk when you get back.” “I’d rather do it tonight before I lose my nerve.” Jesse mumbled to

someone on his end of the line. “Look, I’ve got to go. There will be a ticket waiting for you at the box office. Show starts at seven. I’ll make reservations for dinner and a separate room at the hotel.” “I’ll think about it.” Taylor hesitated. “Please come, Taylor,” Jesse said, then paused. “Barb’s fuming, I’ve got to go. Please come.” The line went dead. She leaned back in her chair, tossing the phone on her desk. Brit

caught the sliding cell before it dropped off the other side. “Our new owner?” Brit set the phone down and slipped into one of the leather chairs in front of Taylor’s desk. She adjusted the Anne Klein jacket that she wore over a silk tank and expensive jeans. Brit loved looking the part of an art curator, and her department store credit card statements proved it. Brit absent-mindedly played with the fashionable chains hanging

around her neck. Taylor narrowed her eyes as she watched her friend. “Why would you think that?” Brit threw her head back and laughed. Finally, she looked at Taylor. “Seriously? I could see that guy had you twisted in knots since the night he showed up at the opening.” Brit leaned forward. “So, you two doing the nasty?” Taylor smiled in spite of herself. Brit could make her laugh at anything. “It’s not any of your business.”

Brit’s eyes widened. “Oh. My. God. I was teasing, but you are so jumping his bones, aren’t you?” Heat ran to Taylor’s face as she thought about the previous night. How gentle Jesse had been touching her, caressing her body, as if she were his piece of clay and he was molding her into a masterpiece. “Earth to Taylor.” Brit snapped her fingers. “Seriously, the boy is a player. You need to keep your heart protected this time. I don’t want to be picking you up off the floor when

he gets bored with playing fancy pants art dealer.” “I know. I don’t know what he wants, or what I want, for that matter. And it was only once. So no talking about this.” Taylor frowned, thinking about the call. “He wants me to meet him out of town this weekend so we can talk.” Brit pursed her lips. “Road booty call?” “I don’t think so. He seemed sincere.” Taylor wondered if last night had surprised him as much as

it had her. And if her memory was clear, she’d started the physical contact. She’d been the aggressor. He probably thought she was playing up to the new boss. The heat on her cheeks felt like fire now. “You’re going to go. Fly out and be his road toy.” Taylor started searching for a flight. “I’m not having sex with him. I’m getting this whole thing cleared up and past us, for the good of the gallery.” She looked at her assistant.

“You have Angie to help out this afternoon and all day Saturday, right?” Brit shook her head. “Tomorrow, yes. But Angie just called. She’s got an appointment or something today. This is the third one in the last week.” “From what I’ve learned, Angie has a habit of being a flake. Maybe I shouldn’t go.” Taylor leaned back in her chair, turning her attention from the computer to Brit.

“You think I can’t handle the gallery by myself for,” she glanced at her watch, “four hours? I used to open and close on your days off by myself. What, you think I’ve become needy in the last day or so??” “It’s not that I don’t think you can deal,” Taylor said. “Hell, I’m probably just trying to catch a lifeline here and talk myself out of going.” “Then don’t go. You’re a smart, intelligent woman. You don’t need

to be running off because Mr. Handsome Cowboy snaps his fingers.” Taylor laughed. “I’m not going because Jesse snapped his fingers. I need to know more about him, especially if I’m going to stop my folks from selling to him before I can get the funding package set. Mike says he just needs a few weeks.” A bell on the front door announced a new customer. Brit slipped out of her chair and went to

greet the new arrival. Standing in the office door, she hesitated and waited until Taylor acknowledged her. “What?” Brit cocked her head and met Taylor’s eyes. “Go ahead, play secret agent. Just remember what I told you. Keep your heart locked up. I worry about you.” Taylor watched her friend leave the office. Her fingers paused over the keyboard, wondering if this was totally stupid. Then she hit enter

and picked up her purse. She had a plane to catch and she needed to pack an overnight bag. She glanced at Marvin’s contract. No use messing with it today. She’d get it over to Mike first thing on Monday. Besides, as it was Jesse’s first contract, there were probably some legal things that they needed to set up. ••• Jesse paced in front of the arrival gate, waiting for her plane to land.

Calling her had been stupid, impulsive, and ill-considered. Yet, he’d never been so sure of anything in his life. For years, he’d looked for the kind of love that James had with Lizzie. To love someone so much, well, he would give up anything to be with that person. He smiled as the thought came to him; he was more his mother’s son than he would like to admit. Inviting Taylor down to Casper without taking the time to think through what had happened had

been impulsive. It’s not like he hadn’t had drunken sex before. Or even a one-night stand. But he’d never woken up early and watched the angel sleeping next to him breathe. His fingers had itched to pick up a pencil and draw the curve of her arm as it had draped over her chest, her hand curling up toward her face. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror. Man, he had it bad. An announcement came over the loud speaker that the Salt Lake flight had just landed. He felt

bad for her having to fly to SLC then out to Casper, but the airlines liked to route their planes through regional hubs rather than send direct flights. Taylor’s flight had taken four hours, but she almost could have driven the distance faster. Brit had been curt when he’d called the gallery to see what time Taylor’s flight would be landing. Brit had been hesitant to give him the details, even after he’d explained he wanted to pick Taylor up since his interviews were over.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Brit wavered. He wondered if she’d been talking about giving him the information or the whole idea of him and Taylor together. Had Taylor told her best friend about last night? He snorted. Of course she had. Women. They couldn’t keep a secret to save their lives. Then again, he hadn’t kept their night together a secret, either. After all, he had told his mother. He had wanted some sort of approval,

or at the very least, support that he wasn’t jumping off a cliff. Of course, that was exactly what he was doing. He glanced at the approaching crowd from the airplane. Would she see him if he took off and ran? He could hire her a driver, set her up in a hotel room, maybe even send Barb over to explain he was too busy to see her. He should be down at the barns checking out his tack and staring down the bulls. He briefly wondered which one he

would be riding later that night. Lost in his escape plan, he didn’t notice her until she put a hand on his arm. “Jesse, what are you doing here?” Taylor looked up at him, confusion evident in her face. He pushed aside his fears and leaned in to kiss her cheek. “I invited you down. What, you thought I’d just send a car? Or let you take a taxi? What kind of jerk does that?”

“I just didn’t expect …” Taylor trailed off. Jesse reached for her carry-on bag slung over her shoulder, ignoring her pause. “You have checked baggage?” When she shook her head, he was surprised. Taylor didn’t seem like the kind of girl who only traveled with one bag, even for a short weekend getaway. He’d expected two, maybe even three more bags. See, you don’t know her at all. He brushed away the

thought. They had time to learn about each other. As long as she felt the same way, there would be plenty of time. He put his hand on the small of her back and maneuvered her toward the exit. “Let’s get you set up at the hotel; then, I’ll take you to the barn and introduce you to the bulls who want to crush me tonight.” Taylor laughed. “Sounds like fun. Is one of them named Amanda?”

“Jeez, you’re never going to let me live that one down, are you? I swear,” Jesse held up a hand in a three-finger Boy Scout salute, “there was never anything between Amanda and me. I was nice to her because she is Maggie’s daughter.” They stepped out into the bright Wyoming sunshine. “I believe you, I’m just not sure Amanda does.” He let that comment slide. Driving through the edge of town, the two remained quiet in the rental

car Jesse had picked up when he arrived that morning. He typically rented, even if the car stayed parked at the hotel the entire weekend. He liked having options. They reached the hotel about twenty minutes later. Jesse waited in the lobby while Taylor ran up to the room to drop off her bag and freshen up. He watched the elevator door close behind her, kicking himself for not escorting her. Slow down, he thought. You don’t even know if she likes you. At least she’d

confirmed last night that she wasn’t dating anyone. He thought about her kiss last night, and slid down into one of the lobby couches. “Jesse Sullivan,” a man’s voice boomed. Jesse turned and looked into Hunter Martin’s face. “Shouldn’t you be hanging around the rodeo grounds looking for tonight’s after-show party girl?” Jesse stood, shaking Hunter’s hand. He liked the guy. Barb had done well for herself. “I figured you’d be staying back in Boise this

weekend. Doesn’t Kadi have a competition?” The men sank down into the couches, Hunter taking the couch that mirrored the one Jesse was sitting in. “When doesn’t Kadi have a competition? I swear that niece of mine is horse crazy. My dad’s doing cheerleading duty this weekend. Barb and I decided to take a weekend for ourselves.” “Mixing business with pleasure.”

“Summer keeps Barb busy, so I have to grab her time when I can.” Hunter smiled. “She loves her job. Although, I don’t get why, having to corral the likes of you all the time.” “Well, soon I won’t be the one she’s chasing around.” Jesse slung his arm over the top of the couch. Hunter leaned forward. “I hear; congrats. If you need a good accountant or lawyer, let me know. I can give Barb a few names of people that worked with the dairy

before we got so big we hired a fulltime staff.” Jesse groaned. “I’m pretty sure I’ll need referrals. I know Barb’s having George look over the contract, but I don’t think he wants to be involved in all the day-to-day stuff. I’d rather not use the current gallery lawyer. I’d just feel better knowing I hired the guy and he has my back, you know?” “Smart man.” Hunter grinned. “Next time I see you, you’ll probably be stuffed into a suit with

a Bluetooth stuck in your ear. Jesse Sullivan, art dealer.” “Now, don’t go crazy on me. I’m pretty sure art dealers don’t wear the monkey suit. Aren’t we supposed to dress like creative types?” Jesse thought about the one, lone suit hanging in his closet back home. “I think those are the artists, not the gallery owners.” Hunter stood and greeted his wife as Barb joined them.

“I didn’t think I’d see the two of you chatting it up.” Barb kissed Hunter and then turned her attention to Jesse. “Don’t you have bull rider duties to perform?” “Just waiting for Taylor, then I’ll go down and play the role,” Jesse drawled. Barb, who had been drawing circles on her husband’s leg with her French-tipped fingernail, stopped and frowned. “Taylor’s here?”

“Don’t look like that. I invited her.” Barb leaned forward. “I don’t think that’s the best idea you’ve ever had.” Hunter put his hand on Barb’s back. Jesse saw the movement. Was he supporting her? Or warning her? “Look, I’m not known for great ideas. But I think this girl may be the one.” Barb’s eyes widened. “Jesse, slow down. You need to think about this. Taylor is your gallery manager.

Having fun is one thing, but when you have to see that person daily, well, relationships like that can get complicated.” “I’m not a kid, Barb.” Jesse’s words came out harsher than he’d wanted. “I like the girl. Maybe more. But I’m not an idiot. If she’s not interested she’ll tell me, and we can go back to whatever friendly relationship we had before. I need to know where I stand.” “I think you’re treading on thin ice, here,” Barb warned.

“Now that doesn’t sound like the Jesse I’m beginning to know at all.” Jesse turned his head to see Taylor standing in front of them. He took in the sight of her. Skintight stretch jeans, a silk tank in brilliant blue, her hair loose around her shoulders. He stopped at her feet and grinned—she had on cowboy boots. He was in love. Barb stood and Hunter followed her lead. “Taylor, so nice to see you.” She made the

introductions between Hunter and Taylor. “We were about to grab some dinner before the event. Do you two want to join us?” Jesse shook his head. “You know I can’t eat before I ride.” He grinned at Taylor. “I swear the bulls can smell a cheeseburger or a Tbone steak on your breath. Riders get killed that way.” “So most riders are vegetarians? At least on days they compete?” Taylor sat down on the sofa next to Jesse. “That’s

fascinating, I’ve never heard that before.” “Because it’s just Jesse’s theory, not reality.” Barb laughed. “Believe me, the more you hang around the guy, the easier it will be to figure out his bullcrap.” “Ouch, that’s harsh.” Jesse pretended to be shot to the stomach. “I have to be honest with you, it’s in our contract.” Barb gave him a sweet smile, which didn’t fool him in the least.

“Hunter, you should have run when you had the chance.” Jesse glanced over at Barb’s husband, who was listening to the verbal bantering like it was Wimbledon, each insult another ball over the net. The man held up his hands in mock surrender. “Don’t get me in the middle of this. Taylor, sometimes the most prudent path is the one where you step aside and let the children play through.”

Jesse watched as Taylor bit back a smile. The girl would hold her own with the Shawnee group, that was for sure. He focused on her. “Do you want to go eat with Barb and Hunter?” Taylor frowned. “I thought you were taking me to the barn?” “I can. But if you’d rather grab some food?” He knew they were being polite with each other. After last night he didn’t want to push the girl. They needed some time alone to talk.

Taylor glanced at Barb. “Thanks for the offer, but we’ve got some things to talk about.” Taylor flushed red. “About the gallery, I mean.” Barb and Hunter exchanged a look Jesse couldn’t read. That was the thing about couples, they all had their own secret looks. Moments where they knew what the other person was saying without using a single word. He’d like that kind of relationship someday. “Taylor flew down to hammer some things out about the

sale, so I guess we shouldn’t waste her time.” “Invitation’s always open. Maybe the four of us can get together for breakfast tomorrow before Hunter and I fly home.” Barb stood and pulled Hunter to his feet. “Take me and feed me.” “See what happens when you’re old married folk? The food is more important than time together,” Hunter whispered loudly to Taylor. Barb slapped his arm. “Don’t you even go there, mister. You and I

were married folk before we even started dating.” When she saw Taylor’s shocked face she laughed. “Long story. I’ll set up a girl’s night with Angie and Lizzie when we get home and catch you up on all the Shawnee gossip you’re going to need if you’re dating Jesse.” Taylor protested, “We’re not dating.” Barb and Hunter strolled away from the couches. “Whatever you have to tell yourself.”

Jesse took Taylor’s hand. “Barb’s not known for her tact. Probably because she’s my manager, she’s learned to say what’s on her mind. Right now, she thinks we’re going down the wrong path. That someone’s going to get hurt.” He saw Taylor’s shoulders tighten. She sighed and leaned back into the cushions. “Brit’s saying the same thing. What is this, Jesse? A drunken mistake?”

“I don’t think so.” Jesse turned and watched her. “I need to know if you feel anything for me. I know it’s early and we barely know each other. But I have to tell you, I want this to work.” “So you don’t think this will ruin us working together?” Taylor’s gaze found his, her look was guarded. “I don’t know. I just know I want to try. Me. You. Us.” Jesse leaned in to kiss her, but his phone rang. “Horrible timing.” He pulled

the phone off its holster on his belt and glared at the display. “The rodeo commissioner. I need to take this.”

Chapter 9 Jesse walked away, and Taylor thought about what he’d said. She’s been expecting a sorry-about-lastnight-can-we-just-forget-it-everhappened speech. Instead, she thought she’d just been asked to go steady. The man was impossible to read. He made her want to stand and do her hoppy version of a victory dance. She glanced around

the elegant lobby. Probably not the place. Jesse returned and pulled her off the couch. “Come on. They need me down at the barn. More publicity pictures that Barb forgot to tell me about. I’m meeting the mayor and his daughter, the reigning rodeo queen, for promotional stuff.” “I could just stay here and catch up with Barb and Hunter.” Taylor glanced around the empty

lobby, wondering where the couple had disappeared to. “Believe me, we’ll have time to talk.” Jesse took her arm and they walked out of the marble lobby to the parking lot. The hotel could have been smack-dab in the middle of downtown Boise except for all the pickups and horse trailers in the parking lot. She watched the town pass by as Jesse followed the car’s GPS toward the rodeo grounds. Franchise fast food was taking over

the world. Of the last five drive-in eateries they’d passed, each one of them was available in or near Boise. The homogenization of America, one meal at a time. Taylor noticed that, even in an unfamiliar city, Jesse looked cool and in control. He had one hand on the wheel, leaning toward the open window. She would have been a mess, wondering if she’d missed a turn, or worse, couldn’t get to the correct side of the road to turn onto her exit. He seemed to know exactly where he

was and where he needed to go. No different here than in his own stomping ground. Taylor wondered if that was just his style, a rolling stone, comfortable anywhere. She relaxed and decided to let the day go where it went. When she opened her mouth to ask about traveling on the road, instead, she said, “I can’t believe you left me this morning.” Jesse’s face turned red but he didn’t meet her eyes. “I’m an idiot, what can I say?”

“Sorry?” Taylor hadn’t wanted to talk about this until after he rode. If he was too upset and couldn’t focus the bull could kill him. She shook the thought away; as far as she could see, Jesse Sullivan didn’t get upset over anything. The man was an ice cube. Well, except for last night. She worried her own face was turning colors as she remembered their night together. “I am sorry. I never meant for us to stay over in Ontario. I never

meant for our night to go so long.” He glanced at her this time. “Of course, you’re partially to blame for that.” “Me?” Taylor knew her face was red now. He blamed her? Jesse turned off the main road and Taylor could see the outdoor grandstand sitting behind a large parking lot. “You wouldn’t lose. If I’d known you were that good at darts I would have demanded we play shuffleboard.”

“I played a bit in college,” Taylor admitted. “But you did win. If I remember right.” “After we played all night.” Jesse pulled the car into a parking spot near the barns. He turned off the car and looked at her. “Actually, I expected to beat you in three straight games. I underestimated you. I won’t do that again.” She watched him leave the car, wondering if he was already underestimating her. She pushed the thought away and climbed out

of the car, hurrying to catch up. Time to find out what made this guy tick. He could say all the pretty words he wanted, but when it all shook out, they were on opposite sides of the deal. She had to protect her interest in the gallery at all costs. She put on her sales smile and called out to him, “Hold up.” For the next two hours Jesse showed her the life of a rodeo star. He did a couple of interviews, meeting and greeting like he was a politician running for office. Then

he took her to the barn where they kept the livestock. The strong smell of bull hit her nostrils. The animals were hot in the closed-in area. Fans blew air around the pens, trying to keep them cool. She walked up to a gate, and the bull in the pen eyed her with an intense glare. “It’s like he sees me as the enemy.” Jesse pulled her back a few steps. “He probably does. Bulls are smart. I swear there are a few that I hadn’t rode in years that still

remember me just by the sound of my voice. When I’d watched their ride videos, they’d twisted right on leaving the gate with every rider. But for me, they’d twist left. Like they knew I’d figured out their pattern and had to switch it up.” “You’re kidding me.” Taylor glanced up into Jesse’s face, looking for a trace of a smile to give his prank away. Jesse held his hand up in a vow symbol. “I swear on my mama’s grave.” Then he smiled. “I guess

that saying doesn’t work anymore, now that we know Angie is alive.” Taylor put her hand on his forearm. “That must have been hard. When she left, I mean.” Jesse didn’t say anything, but led her over to a straw bale where they sat together. Jesse leaned forward and put his forearms on his thighs. “I didn’t understand for a long time. James was mad at her. I just missed her. So I became the funny kid. The kid everyone wanted around, the boy every girl wanted. I

thought, maybe if I was good enough, she’d come back.” “Hard for a little kid to carry that around.” “Cry me a river. Man, I’ve never admitted that to anyone before. I must look like a loser.” Jesse didn’t look at her. An announcement came over the loudspeaker calling the riders to the gate. He stood and hurried her out of the barn. Handing her a ticket, he pushed her through a door leading

to the grandstands. “You’ll be sitting with Barb and Hunter. I’ll come find you afterward.” She turned back to say good luck, but the door had already shut behind him. Just a little boy looking for love. Taylor felt horrible. She understood now what her betrayal and knew what the loss of the gallery would do to Jesse. But better him than her. Pain hit her gut. She liked Jesse. Hell, if the gallery weren’t in play, she’d throw caution to the wind and see where

the relationship went. At least it would be fun. But she couldn’t let him in, not now. She shouldn’t have come to Wyoming. Just get through the day. She kept the mantra going until she reached her seat. Barb handed her a corn dog and a packet of mustard. “We thought you might need a snack.” Barb scooted over toward Hunter, giving Taylor room to sit down and get settled. “Thanks.” Taylor glanced around. “Anywhere I’d be able to

get a beer?” Hunter stood. “I’ll run. Barb?” “Soda. Not diet. I hate the taste,” Barb admitted to Taylor. “You don’t have to go; I can get my own drink,” Taylor protested. “Let him go. It’s an excuse for him to get a second drink. He loves it when I’m playing designated driver.” Barb slapped her husband on the butt as he stepped past her. Taylor swirled the mustard from the packet onto the still-hot corn dog. The smell of the mustard

bit her senses. They must have arrived just before she had. She bit into the cornmeal-covered hot dog and groaned in pleasure. Fried heaven. In August, she’d made daily trips to the state fairgrounds for lunch to delight in the summer treat. “Lizzie loves her corn dogs, too. Especially when she’s pregnant.” Barb’s lips curled into a smile. “You got something to tell us?” Taylor wiped mustard off her mouth with a napkin. “Yeah, I love

corn dogs.” “You’re bad,” Barb said, teasing her. “Jesse’s been a friend for a long time. He’s kind of like a little brother. I’d hate to see his heart get broken.” Taylor finished the corn dog before she answered. Fear clutched at her as she thought about what might have happened last night. Had she already gone too far to turn back? Had that been why he’d called? A second taste of Taylor? She pushed the thought away. “For

Mr. Sullivan being such a player— and don’t deny it, I’ve heard the rumors—you sure make him sound like a softie.” “I’ve seen him with a lot of girls; I won’t deny that. But he’s never looked at any of them the way he looks at you. I’ve been part of that family for years, even when we were kids. Jesse, his brother, and Lizzie, well, the four of us were tight. We’d be at my house or Lizzie’s if we weren’t hanging out at the river.” Barb glanced through the

crowd, apparently searching for someone. “I hate to be the one who tells you, but he cares about you.” Taylor took in the large arena, feeling the excitement of the crowd and families sitting around her. She wondered, could this be her life? Watching Jesse risk his neck just to prove he could stay on a bull for eight seconds? “I don’t think so.” She dug in her purse, avoiding Barb’s scrutiny. “We’re too different. I mean, Jesse’s amazing, but his life is exciting and

interesting. I’m pretty boring if you get to know me. I’m sure he’s just being nice.” She felt Barb’s hand on her arm and gave up the fake searching. “Believe me, Jesse cares for you. And if you’re just playing him, please stop.” Taylor couldn’t hear anything else. The crowd noise disappeared, and all she could think about was kissing him last night. The more she thought about it, the more convinced she was that they hadn’t

made love. Hell, she’d done more in Ken’s back seat when she was trying to stay a virgin in high school. Yet, for some reason, this felt more intimate. Finally, she looked at Barb. “I don’t want to hurt him.” “I guess I’ll have to take that for my answer, then.” Barb glanced up at Hunter who’d returned with the drinks. She smiled and her voice softened. “Hey, baby.” Hunter stared at the women as he handed over the beer to Taylor.

Barb took the soda and ice cream sandwich. “Should I leave and come back later?” Taylor quickly said, “We’re done. Girl talk, you know.” Hunter slipped into his seat next to his wife, shooting her an Itold-you-to-stay-out-of-it look. Barb responded with a wide-eyed innocent shrug as she unwrapped the ice cream. “How’d you know I was craving this?” She leaned her head against Hunter’s arm and took a bite.

Taylor watched as Hunter brushed a wild curl that had escaped Barb’s hair clip, his face filled with so much love and tenderness it made Taylor look away. She felt as though she was intruding on their intimacy. Someday, she’d have a love like that. Jesse’s face filled her mind. She couldn’t forget the way he had whispered her name. Her soul mate, the love of her life, was not going to be Jesse Sullivan, bull rider. No way. She

wanted someone stable, secure, and, yes, boring. Boring would be good. As she tried convincing herself that she wouldn’t fall for Jesse’s lines, the announcer called up the first contestant. Barb nudged her. “That’s Carl. He’s one of my riders. He’s almost as good as Jesse.” Hunter laughed. “Not one of your other guys is in Jesse’s league. When he retires you’re going to have to find a new star for your male harem.”

“They are not my harem. I’m just their manager.” Barb slapped Hunter’s arm playfully. “Not to mention, you’re their best friend, their bail bondsman, their mother, and their accountant,” Hunter responded, his voice playful. The crowd quieted and leaned forward to watch the gate release. Taylor focused on the gate, watching the cowboy sitting on the bull. Only his shoulders and hat showed through the bars. She flinched as she saw the bull react to

the rider’s weight. Carl pulled back, waiting for the animal to calm. Finally, the bull and rider were settled. The man in the chute pushed his hat further down on his head, lifted his free arm, and nodded his readiness to the gate handler. The gate flew open, and the bull came out of the chute bucking and twisting. Taylor thought of Jesse’s comment about the bull being able to read its rider as she watched the dance between the

massive animal and Barb’s client. She held her breath as the seconds counted down. Finally, the buzzer announced the eight seconds had passed. Barb stood and cheered. Taylor watched as a rider on a horse came near the bull. The bull rider threw himself off the large animal and onto the back of the horse. “Not the most graceful dismount,” Hunter said, chuckling. “Doesn’t matter. The judging is done.” Barb giggled and clapped louder. “Great job, Carl!” She sat

back down on the bench to await the score. “Your Jesse may have some competition tonight. I swear that kid gets better every time he rides. And Old Hickory is a great bull; he’s got a high buck-off percentage, so that will increase Carl’s score.” Barb wiggled in her seat. “I’m so happy for him. If he wins, I’ll have to call all his sponsors and up his appearance price.” “My girl, always the optimist.” Hunter shook his head.

“What? He deserves to be compensated for a good ride. Hell, that was a great ride. He keeps that up, and I’ll have two riders in the Vegas finals in December.” Barb looked over at Taylor. “You’ll learn the lingo soon enough.” “He’s not my Jesse …” Taylor started to say, but Barb shushed her when the announcers started talking again. Eventually, they announced his score. Eighty-seven. Barb sighed. “It’s good, but it should have been better.

Sometimes, the judges are a little tight early in the night. I hope it holds.” Taylor watched the next few riders, and no one stayed on for the full eight seconds. So far, Carl was still in the lead. The loudspeaker announced Jesse Sullivan’s name and Taylor’s heart sank. She leaned forward, unable to breathe. She saw the black hat that Jesse had slipped on when he got out of the car. It was the final piece of his uniform to play the part of professional bull

rider. No wonder he wanted to paint and focus on art. At least in a gallery, his chance of getting stomped on by a rampaging bull after being thrown off was slim to none. Although, art critics could be destructive to a new artist’s career and mental well-being. Jesse nodded his head and the gate flew open. Barb had told Taylor that his bull, Taste the Earth, hadn’t ever been ridden for the full eight seconds. If Jesse could just stay on ... She watched the bull buck, and

Jesse leaned so far back that his head nearly touched the bull’s flanks. His free arm balanced his body against the bull’s motion. Almost as fast, the bull regained his footing and twisted left, then right, trying to unseat his rider. Jesse stayed on. Taylor wanted to glance at the clock, but she couldn’t stop watching. The buzzer went off and Jesse let go, flying off the side of the bull. Before the animal could register he was gone, Jesse hopped on the

corral fence and glanced through the grandstands. He caught her eye and grinned, waving his hat. “Leave it to Jesse,” Barb mumbled. “He stayed on the bull—that’s what he’s supposed to do, right?” Taylor asked. Barb sighed. “I was just hoping Carl might win this one. The kid’s been in Jesse’s shadow so long that he’s beginning to grow mushrooms on his feet.”

“He’ll have his day. Jesse’s retiring soon.” Hunter smiled at Taylor. “He’s becoming a fancy art dealer. You think you can tame the guy enough so he doesn’t spit tobacco in your pretty shop?” Taylor’s eyes widened. “He chews?” Barb slapped Hunter’s leg. “He’s just kidding you. Jesse doesn’t smoke, chew or, as far as I know, do anything illegal. He does like his tequila, though.”

“Yeah, I found that out,” Taylor said, grinning. She wanted to add that he hadn’t yet bought the art gallery. But like any good poker player, Taylor held on to her card. It would either be a wild card in the game, or just a joker. She didn’t know if she could pull it off, or if her folks would even let her buy the gallery. She cheered along with the crowd at Jesse’s ninety-three score. The trio watched the rest of the riders, but even Taylor knew Jesse

had clinched the win. She finished her beer just as Jesse slipped onto the bench next to her. “Did you watch, or hide your eyes behind your hands?” Jesse handed long necks down the row. Barb waved hers off. Jesse cocked his head, examining her face. She flushed under his scrutiny. “Fine, don’t tell me. It just means more beer for me.” Taylor took the offered bottle, cold and icy in her hand. “I watched. You’re pretty good.”

Jesse held a hand to his heart. “Faint praise. I’ll die if you don’t tell me how amazingly awesome I was tonight.” “Does it say rodeo groupie on my forehead?” Taylor asked. Hunter laughed. “Get him, Taylor.” Barb leaned against her husband and watched Taylor and Jesse. “You two fight like an old married couple.” Jesse shook his head. “This isn’t fighting, Barb; it’s the courting

ritual. She’s into me.”

Chapter 10 After they left Barb and Hunter at the rodeo, Jesse and Taylor drove across town to find dinner. Taylor groaned when he pulled the car into a steakhouse parking lot. “Sorry, I know we had steak last night, but the food’s great. There are just not a lot of choices out here. This place does a mean mahi-mahi fish taco if you want something different.”

“It’s fine.” Taylor got out of the car and waited for Jesse on the sidewalk. “You forgot your hat.” He took her arm and led her into the restaurant. “I’m off duty, so it stays in the car.” “Jesse, hold on a second.” Taylor paused at the door. She searched his face, looking for an answer without asking the question. “Is this a date?” His face didn’t change, no flicker of amusement or horror. His

grip tightened a little on her arm. “Do you want it to be?” She hesitated, her brain shouting no. But something else shouted yes. The question was whether it came from her heart, or her body. Did it matter? “Relax; I didn’t ask you down here for a quickie. I think we need to talk about us.” Jesse waited. She nodded. “Okay, then.” She walked through the door, feeling his presence so close behind her, and

stopped in front of the hostess station. The hostess led them to a secluded table near the window. “Our soup tonight is clam chowder. Our special is stuffed pork chop.” She sat the menus on the table and left. “My flight leaves tomorrow at noon.” Taylor studied the menu. “I’m heading out around the same time. Barb has me scheduled for interviews first thing in the

morning, so no getting me drunk and taking advantage of me.” Her head shot up. Jesse wasn’t looking at her, his head bent, studying the menu. She looked around the room and lowered her voice. “I didn’t get you drunk.” “If that’s your story,” he said, looking up and grinning at her. The waitress arrived with water and took their drink order. “Iced tea with lemon,” Taylor announced. The two beers at the rodeo had already loosened her

tongue too much. Soon, she’d be telling Jesse about her childhood and the numerous summer camps she’d attended. And how she was plotting with Mike to keep him from buying the gallery. “Root beer for me.” They gave the waitress their food order as well. When she left, the table fell quiet. Taylor set down the knife she’d been playing with. “Root beer?” He shrugged. “I like it. What can I say? I’m a simple kind of guy.”

She studied the man sitting in front of her. “So, you got me here; what did you want to say?” The direct approach surprised him, she could tell. But he pulled himself up, squared his shoulders, and started. “I like you, Taylor. I mean, you’re smart, funny, absolutely gorgeous, and I like spending time with you. You’re the first thing I think of when I get up and the last thing I think of before I go to sleep.” He paused and a sheepish smile crossed his face.

“Not in a dirty way. Well, maybe a little.” She slapped his arm. “Jesse, you were winning points until that last bit. You need to learn when to shut up.” “Barb tells me that all the time.” He grabbed a roll and tossed it to her. “Eat, you’re grumpy.” “I’m not grumpy,” Taylor said. She cut open the crusty warm bread and slathered butter on the inside. She took a bite, and watched as Jesse did the same with his roll. She

thought about her conversation with Barb earlier. “You and Barb are close?” “Yeah, but not in that way, if you’re wondering. I had a huge crush on her when we were in high school, but she was older, and she and Lizzie, that’s my brother’s wife, were friends.” He finished the rest of the roll in one bite. “She always saw me as James’s little brother— even years later. Someone burned her badly, so for years, I don’t think she even dated.”

“Then she met Hunter, and he swept her off her feet?” Taylor asked. “Kind of. She and Hunter have an interesting story. You’ll have to ask her to tell you someday.” Taylor lifted her eyebrows. “You could tell me.” “Barb and Hunter were married before they fell in love. Kind of by accident.” He shook his head. “Anyway, not my story to tell. Just wanted you to know that there

wasn’t ever anything going on between me and Barbie.” Taylor thought about Jesse’s declaration. When the waitress brought their dinners, a T-bone for Jesse, salmon for her, she took a bite and then set her knife and fork down next to her plate. “Uh oh, this can’t be good.” Jesse eyed his steak, then matched her movements and set his own flatware on the table. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“You think we should date?” She knew she was being blunt, and maybe obtuse, but the more direct she was, the better answers she got. Good or bad. Jesse nodded his head and his lips curled into a grin. “Yep. I think we should date. Like tonight. Dinner, maybe a walk by the river, maybe a kiss.” “There’s a river here?” “You’re missing the point. And I was making that part up, so I don’t really know if there’s a river. I

would like to court you, Miss DeMarco.” He reached over and took her hand. “What do you think? Are you even remotely interested?” She felt like laughing, crying, or screaming, “Yes!” But Mike’s face kept popping into her mind. And visions of the gallery. Her gallery. She wanted to be the owner, not just another manager, easily replaced. But that was tomorrow’s worry. Tonight, a handsome man was interested in her. And she

would enjoy the ride until it came to a screeching halt. “I am interested, Mr. Sullivan, provided we take it slow, one day at a time.” “You make me sound like an addiction.” Jesse picked up his knife and fork, slicing into the meat. He stabbed a piece onto his fork and showed her the gentle pink inside. “Perfect; medium rare.” She took a bite of her own dinner and wondered about her choice of words. Being near the

man made her feel higher than any alcohol. The feeling was more intense than the time she had her appendix taken out and they’d sent her home with hydrocodone for the pain. Eventually, she’d stopped taking the pills. They’d invaded her dreams, making her run from nightmare monsters and painful emotions. Yes, being around Jesse Sullivan felt like a drug. And if she wasn’t careful, she’d be homeless and out of work, like many of the addicted.

••• Jesse loved watching Taylor. The way she ate. The way she walked. And most important, the way she gave in to emotion when she laughed, her head thrown back, and her entire body a part of the experience. He hadn’t known exactly what to say when he had invited her to fly out for the rodeo. He just knew that there were too many miles between them, and he felt the

distance like a concrete wall blocking their progress. With dinner finished, he drove them back to the hotel. His room was on the same floor as Taylor’s, so he walked her to her door. She swiped her card into the mechanical lock multiple times, with no luck. Stepping closer, he took the card from her. Putting two fingers on her chin, he pulled up her head and brushed the hair out of her face. He dropped his head down to meet hers and kissed her. His body

reacted to the possibilities of the slow, soft kiss. He pulled away, finding her as breathless as he felt. “Let me get that door,” he said, his voice husky, betraying his desire. He swiped the card again, and this time the light turned from amber to a bright green. He opened the door for her and handed her the key. “Come in.” She took a step in, hesitating. “If you want to.” Jesse stood there and looked at her body. “You haven’t heard a

damn thing I’ve said all night, have you?” “Of course I have.” He followed her into the room and watched as she tried to pull her boots off. He walked over and kneeled in front of her. He slowly pulled off one boot, then the other, his hand tracing imaginary lines down the inside of her calves. “I don’t think so.” “What? What are you getting at?” Her voice sounded slightly

tense. He smiled and looked up at her. “I want to be here. To be with you. Why is that so hard to understand?” He sat next to her on the king size bed. “I’m needy, what can I say?” Taylor laughed off Jesse’s question. “I doubt it.” He took her hand, kissing the palm. The heat of her body next to his made him shiver. “You are amazing, successful, and beautiful. I don’t think you need

anything. I just have to make you want me.” “Hold up, cowboy.” Taylor stood and walked away from the bed. Leaning against the dresser, she crossed her arms. “What happened last night?” Jesse leaned back on the bed. “You’re kidding, right?” Her face flushed. “Stop playing games. Did we sleep together, or not?” Jesse held out his hands. “Come here.”

Taylor looked at him like he was holding a live snake. “Jesse …” He interrupted her, “Just come closer.” Hesitantly, she walked to him, and he took both of her hands in his. He stood to meet her. “We did sleep together last night.” He saw her cringe, but pushed on anyway. “Only sleep. I didn’t want our first time to be alcohol induced. I want you to want me, not just drunken sex.”

The relief on her face almost made him laugh, but a part of him wondered why it would have been so awful for her. He released one of her hands and caressed her cheek with his fingers. “I didn’t remember,” she admitted to him. “If you haven’t guessed by now, I’m a control freak and it scared me that I didn’t remember.” “And that’s why you came today.” Jesse tucked a wayward

strand of her blond hair behind her ear. “One reason.” She searched his face. “I don’t know where this is going.” “Do we have to know tonight?” He tipped his head and let his lips gently touch the curve of her neck. He felt her shiver. “One day at a time?” she asked breathlessly. He spun her around, and they fell on the bed. “One moment at a time.”

Their gazes locked, and when she nodded, he kissed her. Hard and demanding this time. Her lips were like diving into a shimmering pool on a hot summer day. Pulling back, he ran his hand down the curve of her cheek. The curve he couldn’t seem to get right, even after drawing it over and over. He felt his body tighten as he looked at her. Right then, he knew if all he had was this one time, it would all be worth it.

He felt her hands unbuttoning his shirt as he focused on her neck, drinking in the smell of her—clean, floral, and all Taylor. He’d know if she was in a crowded room just by the traces of her scent that followed her as she moved. He moved his hand to her shirt; the neckline falling open, making room for his fingers to slip inside, feeling the lace of her bra. Soft pillows of flesh greeted his hand, and he groaned, his mouth still on her neck, vibrating the skin under his lips.

Abandoning the curve of her neck, his attention moved down her body to her breasts. Instead of lingering, he sat up and finished unbuttoning his own shirt. Taylor had pushed the front open, allowing the fabric to bunch up on his arms. He pulled off her tank. He pushed down the cups of her bra, revealing her pink and creamy breasts. Her nipples were hard and he took one in his mouth, lightly pinching the other between his fingertips. He felt her body rise to meet him, and he

increased his pace, switching his attention from one breast to the other until she cried out. He repositioned himself on the bed and unzipped her jeans, pulling the fabric over her narrow hips. The motion exposed a tiny, silk bikini that matched her black lacy bra. He smiled. Jennifer, his former girlfriend, had once called it sex underwear. Every time he’d seen Taylor in a state of undress, she always wore these silky delights. He abandoned all thought except

stripping off the tiny lace and seeing what was hidden underneath. He reached down and pulled off the small piece of fabric. Parting her legs, he leaned into her, licking her thighs all the way up to her hot core. He heard her short intake of breath as his mouth covered her, and he started exploring her with his tongue. As his warm breath hit her, she tightened until he slipped a finger into her moist opening. He

felt her body arch into his mouth as she cried out. Moving his tongue and finger in the same motion, he could feel her hands in his hair, urging him on. Suddenly, she pressed herself hard against his mouth, begging him to go faster. Listening to her cries of pleasure, Jesse felt his cock tighten against his jeans. She closed her thighs, pushing his head away from her, and sat up, pulling him toward her.

“My turn.” She pushed him up off the bed and quickly unbuckled his jeans. He almost came with her touch, but pulled himself back. He wondered how long he’d be able to hold off if she was really doing what he imagined. Her lips curved around the head of his penis and slipped down the shaft. He shifted, trying to think about anything other than her mouth on him, wanting to make it last longer than the eight seconds bull riders were teased about. Jesse

needed this feeling to go on forever. She tugged and licked and teased until it was all he could do to not go over the edge. He put his hand on her shoulder, forcing out the words, “If you don’t stop, I’ll explode.” She pulled away and looked up at him. “Isn’t that the point?” Her head dropped back down, and Jesse gave in. When he finished, he stepped out of his jeans and crawled into bed next to her. He drew her back into his body and spooned her.

“We’re not done,” he warned, whispering in her ear. “I’m counting on it,” she murmured back. He could tell she was almost asleep from the tone of her voice. When Jesse awoke later, it was still dark, and he felt Taylor’s legs pressing in against his hips. She’d climbed on top of him. He reached for her, pulling her down into a kiss. And they made love.

Chapter 11 This time, Taylor was the one to slip out of the bed, grab her clothes and her suitcase, and practically run to the elevator. She finally took a breath when the doors closed without Jesse’s hand slipping in and preventing her escape. She wasn’t proud of her actions. When she’d woken up to feel his arm draped around her,

she’d had to run. The echoes of him whispering her name in her ear as they fell back asleep after round two had haunted her thoughts. She’d had to get away. Before she’d let her heart speak and say stupid stuff. Like, “I love you, Jesse.” Or, “Stay with me.” He didn’t want forever, not with her. No matter what he said, or what Barb claimed. One moment at a time had been enough. He’d agreed to her statement. And now, she felt like the fool. The very unprotected fool.

Why hadn’t she left him in the hallway? And why, oh, God, why, hadn’t she insisted on a condom? This was not the way Taylor DeMarco acted. Ever. A taxi sat outside the hotel, and she slid into the back. “Airport.” “No problem. What airline?” The taxi driver, a young woman with her hair cut short, asked as she started the engine, glancing in the mirror. “United.” Taylor didn’t want to meet the girl’s eyes. She didn’t want

any human contact to break her misery. She just wanted to leave and forget about last night’s pleasure. The feel of his chest as she ran her hands across that tan, muscular body. The feel of his mouth against hers. The feel of his mouth on her neck, her breasts, her … “You here for the rodeo?” The driver’s voice broke into Taylor’s memory, and she swallowed before answering.

“Seeing a friend,” she said. Which was true, and not true at the same time. When Jesse arrived back in town she would simply explain that gallery business had called her back. As the soon-to-be new owner, he should understand. After that, she’d just have to keep from being alone with him. Ever again. She couldn’t be one of Jesse’s girls. Not a stop on the rodeo trail. She had responsibilities. She had the gallery. Or at least she hoped she had the gallery still.

Taylor pulled out her BlackBerry and thumbed through her e-mails. When she found one from Brit, she opened and read the short message. Reading the words aloud, she frowned as the implication sunk in. “Found the contract on your desk. Dropped it off at Mike’s, so one less thing for you to hurry back to finish. Have fun!” Jesse’s contract had been filed as her own. She hoped Mike wasn’t in the office on Friday. She dialed

his work number, but of course he wasn’t in at—she glanced at her watch—5:00 A.M. on a Saturday. The beep sounded and she left the lawyer a message. “Hey, don’t file that last artist agreement. We need to make some changes.” Then she called Mike’s cell and left the same message. She had hoped he would answer, but maybe he slept more than she did. She might be able to explain slipping away from Jesse without saying goodbye. It would be harder

to explain stealing his first artist contract. Taylor watched as the road turned from city to desert as they headed through the outskirts of town toward the airport. She should turn around. Grab some coffee and donuts and pretend like she was just going for breakfast. With your suitcase in tow? How would you explain that? You were afraid he’d try on your clothes? She stared at her reflection in the window. No, she’d already gone too far to go back. Even if she

regretted the impulse to run. Now, later, and probably forever. The cab slowed next to the curb, and she gave the driver a twenty. Waving off her change, Taylor opened the taxi door and strode to the ticket counter, hoping for an easy transfer to an earlier flight. Three hours later she was home in Boise. Taylor dropped her suitcase into her trunk, turned the car left instead of right toward home, and drove to Eagle, where her favorite hot springs spa was

located. She knew the owner and hoped there was at least one room available. She wanted to hide. Hide and enjoy the services of Sally’s best masseuse. She tossed her phone into the passenger seat. She’d turned off the cell as soon as she’d climbed on the plane. She couldn’t talk to anyone until she got her head straight. She’d turn it back on Monday. If she decided to go in to work. The gallery was dark on Mondays, so technically she

wouldn’t be missed unless she didn’t show on Tuesday. But Brit would know. Taylor usually did payroll and the majority of paperwork on Mondays. So most of the time, Brit came in to help, or gossip. Mostly to gossip. Taylor couldn’t worry about that now. All she needed to do was get Jesse Sullivan out of her brain long enough to make some intelligent decisions. Decisions that weren’t based on how amazing he’d made her feel last night, or how soft

his caress had been. She’d had lovers in the past, she wasn’t a saint. But she had never made love before. The experience with the other men had been sex. Fun, mindblowing sex. Last night with Jesse, she’d felt a connection. More than just their bodies joining. Being with Jesse had overwhelmed her senses. She felt like their limbs had melted into each other, becoming one. She pulled her suitcase out of the trunk

and stared at the cottage-style building situated close to the Boise River. Now she definitely knew that she needed some perspective. She was talking gibberish, like she was feeling a strong emotion. Like she was feeling love. For Jesse. She’d met the guy less than a month ago, so at the most, she was in lust. Not love. She decided her first stop would be the spinning room. She’d work this feeling out on a bike. And if that didn’t work, she’d run.

She didn’t want to think about what she’d have to do after running if Jesse Sullivan stayed in her head. ••• Two days later, Taylor snuck into the gallery, well rested with her head on straight. She felt ready to deal with all the bullcrap. As soon as Taylor walked in, Brit crossed the lobby to greet her. She took her arm and whispered, “Where have you been?” When Taylor hesitated, Brit took Taylor’s purse and

straightened Taylor’s suit jacket. “Never mind. You can tell me later. You have a visitor in your office. I offered him coffee, but he declined.” Steeling herself, Taylor thought about the decision she’d made during her mud bath at the spa. No Jesse, no sex, nothing but business. She straightened her shoulders and opened the door to her office, her lie to Jesse already formulated in her mind. “Sorry about disappearing

this weekend, I had gallery business.” “You disappointed me, Taylor. I thought maybe we’d catch a performance of the traveling ballet troupe in town.” Mike sat in her chair, waving her into her own office. He held a hand over the phone’s mouthpiece. “I’m on a call with some people who are very interested in investing in a gallery. One more substantial investment and I’ve solved your problem. You’ll own your own business.”

Not Jesse. Taylor set her planner on the desk and exhaled. She waved Mike out of her chair. “I won’t be the owner. I’ll just have more people telling me what I need to do.” He shook his head. “Everyone has a boss, Taylor.” He focused on the call as he walked away, allowing her to slip into the chair he’d just vacated. He left the room, and Brit strolled in. “So our new employee stood me up this weekend.” Brit sat on

the chair in front of Taylor’s desk. She peeled a banana. “I hate to hit you with this first thing, but I thought you should know.” “Angie? She didn’t show up for her shift? Did she at least call?” Taylor booted up her computer. She didn’t need this, not today. Jesse would be sauntering in that door at any moment wanting to know why she had disappeared. Despite two days of contemplation at the spa, she hadn’t come up with what she

wanted to say. A good excuse for her behavior. “She called, said she wasn’t feeling well, and that she’d be in on Tuesday.” Brit shook her head. “I hope she won’t flake out—I kind of like having her around. It gives me more time to work on the upcoming exhibits without having to stay late every night.” Mike came back into the office and slid his phone into his pocket. “What’s going on?”

Taylor clicked open her e-mail program and saw an e-mail from Jesse. She clicked the program shut. She’d deal with it once her office wasn’t the gathering spot. “Nothing’s going on, Mike. Angie just called in sick, that’s all. People get sick.” Mike put his hand on the chair where Brit sat. “You know, there’s no protection for employees under federal law until they’ve been on the payroll for a year. Maybe firing her now would make Jesse

reconsider buying the gallery? They seem to be a pretty tight family.” Taylor’s stomach soured at the thought. Just how low would she have to stoop to save the gallery? She shook her head. “We’re not playing dirty. Just see if you can find investors. If we don’t put together a package by the end of the week, I’ll resign myself to the sale.” “But Taylor, I think there’s an opportunity here.” Mike stepped closer to the desk. “Your folks will come around. I know they really

don’t want to sell. You know your mom can be a bit of a wild card.” She looked at the glee in Mike’s eyes. Had he always been this determined? Would he do anything, or hurt anyone to win? She leaned back in her chair. “Mike, just leave. I’m not playing your game.” Brit must have seen the pain in Taylor’s eyes, because she stood and took Mike’s arm. “Taylor needs some time alone.” Mike didn’t fight; he let Brit walk him to the door. When she returned to the office,

she didn’t come in, opting instead to lean against the doorframe. “What?” Taylor pulled the pile of mail closer and started ripping open envelopes. Brit didn’t answer. Finally Taylor looked up at her friend and sighed. “What have I started?” She set the torn envelope down on her desk. This time, Brit answered her. “I don’t know. Mike seems like he’s more invested in saving the gallery

than you are. I haven’t seen him act like that since you dumped him freshman year.” Taylor cocked her head and stared at Brit. “I don’t remember dating Mike.” Brit smiled sadly. “You thought you were just going to the game with a group of friends. However, Mike never got over it. When he got up the courage to ask you out again, you were already dating Ken.” “You can’t be serious. That was years ago. There’s no way Mike is

interested in me. The business, yes. He’s worked at the firm that handles the gallery and our family business since he left law school.” Taylor thought about Mike’s comment about the ballet. Sure, they’d gone places together, but she didn’t consider that dating. The question was, did he? “I’ve never seen him that way. He’s always just been Mike. A friend.” “History always comes back to bite us,” Brit said. “Do you want some coffee? Some girl talk?”

“Coffee yes, talk no.” Taylor glanced at her computer screen. She needed to find out what Jesse had written. Then she needed to talk to Angie and see if she was okay. She waited for Brit to return with the cup and a filled carafe. “Close the door, please.” Brit started to say something, nodded instead, and clicked the door shut behind her. Taylor stared at the door for a few seconds before returning to her laptop and opening Jesse’s e-mail.

She quickly read through the three lines. Short, to the point, and, surprisingly forgiving. Sorry you couldn’t stay. Hope everything is all right. Jesse. It was like he’d read her fear the way he read the bulls he rode. Twisting left to keep her from bucking him off, he backed away. There was an implication— no, a promise—that he would call. When had she turned into a scared deer, needing to be herded toward the safety of the forest?

She sat at her desk for an hour, thinking about her next steps. She didn’t want anyone leading her one way or the other. She could call her folks, but they were definitely in Camp Jesse. Mike, well, he wasn’t the best person to bounce ideas off. And Brit, she was too close to the gallery to give her unbiased opinion. When had her life become all about the gallery? All about work? A soft knock on the door broke Taylor out of her musing. Angie

stood in the doorway, dressed in what must be a conservative outfit for her. She had on a bright purple suit. Under the suit, a creamy-white silk tank peeked out from behind a pile of gold jewelry. Even with Angie’s caking layers of makeup, her skin looked pale and the woman seemed tired. “Hey, come on in. Brit told me you were sick this weekend. Maybe you should have stayed home another day?” Taylor stood as Angie stomped in on platform leopard

heels. Angie sunk into one of the chairs and leaned forward. “I needed to come in. I can’t just stay at home; I’ll make myself crazy.” Angie studied Taylor’s face. “How was Wyoming?” “Did you hear from Barb or Jesse?” Taylor waited for Angie’s reaction. Her eyebrows rose. “Both. Does that surprise you? We’re kind of a close-knit bunch.” Taylor pulled out a bag of salt and vinegar chips she’d stashed in

her desk drawer and tore it open. After pulling a handful out and setting them on a napkin, she offered the bag to Angie. When the woman grimaced and shook her head, Taylor frowned. “Seriously, maybe you should have stayed home another day. There’s a flu bug going around.” Angie sighed and leaned back into the chair. “Give an old woman a break. I’m not stupid enough to come in if I were contagious or vomiting all over everything. I’m

just dealing with some bad news. I’ll be better tomorrow.” Taylor folded down the seal on the chip bag and put it away in the drawer. She wasn’t fooling herself. The way she felt, the bag would be gone by closing. At least, if it was out of sight, she’d have to burn the few calories it took to drag it out of the drawer each time she got the craving. “I didn’t say you were going to infect everyone.” “It was in your tone. Believe me, what I have isn’t catching.”

Angie glanced around the office. “You don’t believe in decorating much, do you?” Taylor pressed her lips together and ate another chip before she answered. “I believe it’s called minimalism.” “I think it’s because you can’t make up your mind. Have you ever claimed a spot as your own? This feels more like a man’s office.” Taylor glanced around the office she’d inherited from her grandfather. Leather chairs, a large

wooden desk, bookshelves filled with art books, and a worn, but usable, leather couch. “My grandfather must have decorated the room.” She paused, seeing the furniture through new eyes. “I never even considered changing it.” “A woman steeped in tradition. No wonder Jesse’s fallen for you. That boy always did want the Norman Rockwell kind of life.” “Jesse hasn’t fallen for me,” Taylor protested, but even as the words came out of her mouth, she

knew they weren’t true. It was too much. His love, his expectations. Even his trust in her, when all she was trying to do was keep him from buying the gallery. “A mother knows.” Angie tapped her blue-rimmed nails on the seat of the chair. “Look, I’m not comfortable talking about my relationship, or my non-relationship, with your son. Did you want something?” Taylor opened the drawer and dumped out

another handful of chips. Stress-eat much? Angie seemed to squirm in her chair. “Actually, I need to tell you something. But you can’t tell anyone. As my employer, I can hold you to that promise. No Barb. No Jesse. No one outside this office.” “I thought you were a closeknit bunch?” Taylor asked. She felt bad when her words reflected on Angie’s face like the outline of a handprint after a hard slap. “Sorry, I’m being a bitch. Of course, you

can tell me anything. And as long as it’s not illegal, I promise, I won’t tell anyone else.” Angie looked around the room again. “I would have liked your grandfather. I decorated my first house with the boys’ dad a lot like this. Lots of wood and leather. Very masculine and country.” Taylor smiled as she followed Angie’s gaze around the room. “He was an awesome man. Generous, giving, and he had the best laugh. I loved spending time here at the

gallery with him when I was a little girl. He explained the pictures to me, then, after a while, he had me explain the pictures to him.” Taylor laughed. “He was probably training me how to understand art, even as a child. Nevertheless, he said the gallery knew when someone loved it.” Angie nodded, the look in her eyes distant. “My grandfather worked on a farm in South Dakota. Dry farming. Praying for just the right amount of rain each year.

Gone from sunup to sundown, only coming in to eat dinner at noon, then back out to the fields.” Angie smiled at the memory. “He loved us grandkids. When we stayed with him in the summer, he would take my brother and me swimming on Saturdays down in the creek, where the water pooled under a big oak.” A small beep came through the laptop speakers announcing a new e-mail. “Do you need to get that?” Angie sat forward in her chair. She

looked like a rabbit poised to flee at any frightening movement. “It can wait.” Taylor threw away the oil spotted napkin and focused on Angie. “I know you didn’t come in to tell me I needed to redecorate. What’s going on?” Angie studied her, and for a minute, Taylor thought she might just bolt. Please, don’t let this be about Jesse, she prayed silently. She wasn’t sure she could be strong enough to hold her feelings back right now. Mike had the financing

in place, and she’d be at least a partial owner of Main Street Gallery in a few weeks. All she had to do was keep Jesse from finding out. She owed it to her grandfather to keep the gallery in the family. He’d always called it the family legacy. If her parents weren’t going to honor the man, she would. Taylor watched as Angie pulled a tissue out of her purse and dabbed at her eyes. The minutes stretched as the silence grew. Finally, Angie

pulled her shoulders straight, sat up, and looked directly at Taylor. When she spoke, the words stunned Taylor. “I have breast cancer.”

Chapter 12 Angie sat in the leather chair not looking at Taylor. “You can’t tell the boys. I’m fine. Just a few procedures, tests, then I’ll be back to normal.” Taylor felt like she’d been punched in the gut. “Angie, it’s not like you need a dental cleaning. Cancer is serious. Jesse needs to know—family can help.”

“You don’t understand. I wasn’t there for them when they were growing up. Not when James broke his arm or when Jesse got measles. Why should I ask them to sit with me?” Angie twirled her hair in her fingers. “I hope I don’t lose my hair. I’ve heard that some people don’t.” “They make great wigs now.” Taylor reached for something positive to say. Angie smiled. “I’ve always wanted to be a redhead. Maybe I’ll try it out for a while.” She stared

out the window for a long time. “I’ll need a few weeks after my surgery, then chemo days off. Other than that, I can work around the appointments. Sometimes, I might have to switch up my hours. Can you work around that?” “Of course we can. But do you think you want to work?” Taylor thought about the next few weeks. “We typically close for a couple weeks in July to reset for the year. We could move that up to match

your surgery schedule. That way you won’t miss too much time.” Angie smiled. “Whatever you want. I’ll have a date soon. I’m serious about the boys. If we can keep this just between us, I’d appreciate it.” Taylor stood and walked around the desk, sitting in the chair next to Angie. “I’ll respect your wishes, but just know, if you need anything, I’m here.” She patted Taylor’s hand. “You’re sweet, but I’ve always been

independent. I got through most of my life alone; I can do this better by myself. I don’t want to worry about how the boys are feeling, or what my new boss thinks about my hairstyle.” Taylor stayed in the chair for a while after Angie left. One more reason to call this thing with Jesse off. She’d never be able to keep a secret this big from someone she loved. Slept with, she amended. Not love; not yet. Keep telling yourself that.

••• Jesse stood in his studio. He’d rented the place a year ago in order to keep his artwork a secret from his brother and Angie. Of course, James hardly ever came down to the Boise ranch, preferring to spend his time in Shawnee at the hot springs with Lizzie. Jesse could have set up a place in the barn, the loft, or even the back shed. Still he wanted a place to call his own.

Eventually, he had to buy a place. Just, not yet. With this deal on the art gallery almost complete, Jesse felt like he’d taken enough risk for now. Besides, the light came into his studio first thing in the morning. The suite was on one of the top floors of an old warehouse overlooking the Boise River. He had a small balcony where he could sit and watch people walk and bike down the greenbelt. He spent a lot of time sitting on the balcony when his head was too full to paint.

Like today. All he could think of was the way Taylor had looked that night, staring into his eyes as they’d made love. Like she couldn’t believe he was there. Hell, he couldn’t believe they were together. When he’d woken up and rolled over, he’d found her side of the bed empty. Even now, he could feel the pain of that moment. Obviously, she’d wanted to walk on the wild side. He’d known girls like her before. They’d step out of their real

life of dating business moguls, lawyers, and doctors to try a rodeo rider, a bad boy. He’d been her mistake. And she’d run as fast and as far as she could once she’d woken. He hadn’t been able to reach her for days. Today, he’d called the gallery and talked to his mom. She’d mentioned Taylor was in the office with her attorney. She was probably trying to find some way to keep him from buying the place.

He finished his beer and went back inside, picking up a paintbrush. He didn’t work on the portrait of Taylor. Instead, he focused on a landscape—a place that wasn’t anywhere except inside his head. A place he dreamed of finding someday. The house he painted had a window with light shining through the pane, welcoming family and strangers alike. He painted the imaginary home he’d always wanted, yet never had.

His phone buzzed. Clicking his Bluetooth, he answered, “Talk to me.” “Is that any way to answer your phone?” Angie chided. “Where are you?” “Where am I supposed to be?” He set the paintbrush into a jar of paint thinner. He was done. He studied the house he’d been painting. Taylor would love living there. Too bad it was as imaginary as their relationship.

“I was hoping you were home. I need some company tonight. I thought we might try out that new barbeque place out in Meridian.” Angie sounded disappointed. “After I couldn’t get settled at my apartment, I drove up here to get you.” “I’m not there.” He pulled off his painting tank top and put his Tshirt back on. She sighed. “Still in Wyoming, huh? I thought you sounded closer

when I talked to you this afternoon. Maybe later this week?” Jesse chuckled. “I’m not in Wyoming, I’m just not out at the ranch. Come into town and meet me at the Alibi. I’ll be the one sitting at the bar drinking beer until you get there.” “And I’ll be the designated driver,” Angie teased. “Of course, with you, I usually am.” “Not true.” He glanced around the studio; the afternoon light slipped over the floor and made its

way toward the sliding glass doors to dump into the river. “Sometimes it’s true.” Jesse heard Angie start up her car. “I’ll see you in fifteen.” “Twenty, more likely.” Jesse grabbed his keys out of his jeans pocket. “Love you, Mom.” He heard her slight intake of breath before she responded. “Love you, too.” He jogged down the stairs to the parking lot and out to his truck. He was ten minutes away from

Alibi. He needed to get there first and chug down most of a beer so Angie wouldn’t question where he’d really been when she’d called. It wasn’t like she didn’t know his secret. She’d picked him up at class before. But he didn’t think she realized how much time he really committed to learning the craft. Buying the gallery wasn’t a whim like James believed. He felt called to the art world as much as he felt called to bull riding. It just felt right.

••• “Ready for another?” Tina, the evening bartender, leaned over the counter. She gave him a good look at her cleavage and the leopardprint bra that held in her girls. He’d gone there before, trying to ease the loneliness he’d felt over the years. Now he knew it would just be a distraction. The only woman he wanted was Taylor. And she saw him as a play toy. Karma sure had a

funny way of slapping you across the face. “Might as well. Angie’s on her way to get me, and you know how that goes. She might get distracted, and I’ll be here all night waiting.” Jesse turned on a 100-watt smile he didn’t feel. He glanced around the nearly empty bar. “Slow night?” Tina grabbed a bottle out of the cooler and flipped the top off, setting it in front of him with a clunk. “Tuesdays are dead lately. The computer plant up the street is

talking about layoffs, so people are staying home. Of course, once they find out if they’re on the chopping block, they’ll be back in, either way. People don’t like uncertainty.” “I understand. I’m kind of in a period of change, myself.” Jesse twisted the bottle around, peeling off a corner of the label. “I can handle almost anything. But when I know something’s happening, and I don’t know what it is, it’s maddening.”

Tina frowned and scooted her stool over near him. “You got troubles, Jesse? You always seem so put together, so successful. Hell, you’re the poster child for sanity in this place.” “Sad statement on your patrons.” Angie stood in the doorway, bright sunshine filling the bar for a moment and framing her body. Jesse smiled; his mother knew how to make an entrance. He knew she felt conflicted, claiming her

status as mom of her boys after so many years away. Deep down, Angie was still a Las Vegas-style diva. But she definitely had a heart of gold. Cliché or not. “Hey, Mom. Want one before we go?” Angie took a deep breath and considered the offer. He thought she took way too long. “Something wrong?” He put his hand on her back and felt her shaking. “Angie? You’re scaring me.”

She dug in her purse. “I didn’t think she would do this.” She thrust an envelope onto the bar and looked up at Tina. “Get me a beer. I don’t think I can get through this story without some help.” Tina hurried to pull out a bottle of Angie’s favorite ale. She left the two alone and headed to the other side of the room to her only other customer. The jukebox in the corner started playing an old Patsy Cline song, popular with the older clientele.

He looked at the envelope. “This is from the law offices Taylor uses for the gallery. Don’t tell me they’ve found out about your sordid past.” “Not funny. Besides, I could pass any background check anyone would run. My ex took care of those types of problems.” She put her hand on his. “Read the letter, then I’ll explain. It will give me time to calm down.” Jesse opened the envelope, pulled out the letter, and quickly

scanned the contents. “Wait, they’re firing you? And kicking you off their insurance? How is that even possible? I thought people had a right to some extension of coverage. Some snake name.” “COBRA coverage. Only if you’ve worked there for a year. I’m still in the probationary period, so I don’t have rights.” Angie took a swig from her beer. “I can’t believe Taylor would do this to me.” “Taylor fired you? What did you do?” Jesse felt conflicted.

Taylor wouldn’t fire Angie without cause, would she? Was this a reaction to their weekend? He didn’t like this one bit. Angie stared at him, he could see the wheels turning in her head, and finally, she’d made a decision. “I got sick and told her about it.” “Why would she fire you because you didn’t feel well? What, you were late for a shift? This doesn’t make a bit of sense.” Fire burned in Jesse’s chest. This wasn’t about Angie, it was about him. The

girl wouldn’t get away with this; she could ignore him, but she wasn’t going to treat his mom with this lack of respect. “Jesse, I don’t want James to know. Hell, I didn’t want you to know. I figured I could get this done on my own, but I need that insurance.” Angie took a cigarette pack out of her purse and lit one. The last bastions of the smokers were small dive bars like Alibi. Dread filled Jesse’s mind as he watched her stall. “Mom, what’s

going on?” She took a puff of the cigarette, stared at it, and then put it out. “Need to stop at least one bad habit.” She tried to smile. “Mom?” Angie turned in her chair. “I have breast cancer. I told Taylor yesterday about my condition, and how I needed some time off for the surgery. And today, she dismisses me. I’ve never gotten a ‘Dear Jane, you’re fired’ letter before. Hell, she had to have called her lawyer as

soon as I walked out of her office yesterday.” Jesse’s head spun. He didn’t know what to react to first: his mom’s medical condition or the fact that Taylor had sucker punched her so effectively. He’d thought he was falling in love with her. What an idiot. He should have known. The wealthy think they’re different, and Taylor grew up a spoiled princess in the art world. To her, he had never been anything more than the

novelty bull rider who liked to dabble in making pictures. “I need your help.” Angie had tears falling down her face. “I thought I could do this on my own, but without a job or insurance, I don’t know what to do.” Jesse pulled his mother into his arms and let her sob. He’d never seen her this upset or out of control. His voice was tight and quiet when he finally responded. “You don’t worry. I’ll talk to Taylor tomorrow and get this all cleared

up. I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding.” Angie sniffed and leaned away. Her mascara ran down her cheeks, and even in the darkened bar, she looked like a raccoon. “You think she’ll change her mind? Hire me back?” Jesse brushed a tear off his mother’s face. “I know she will. Now go into the bathroom and fix this …” He waved his hand over his own face. “Then, when you get out, we’ll go to that restaurant you’ve

been wanting to try. A good meal will make you feel better.” She laughed. “I might as well eat now while I can. I’ve heard that once the treatments start I’ll be too tired to eat.” “Then let’s get you fattened up for the duration.” He kissed her cheek. “Don’t worry. We’ll get you through this, no problem.” Angie smiled as she slipped off her bar stool, and clicked toward the bathroom. “You still can’t tell your brother.”

He waited for her to close the door before he took out his phone. He speed-dialed his brother’s number, and when the call was answered, he got right to the point. “I need you down here for a family meeting. Bring Lizzie, we might need her. I’ll call Barb and Hunter when I get home tonight.” “What’s going on?” James’s voice mirrored his own, hard and tight. Jesse watched the bathroom door, hoping to get off the phone

before Angie returned. “Tomorrow. About ten?” “We’ll be there. Lizzie will call Barb.” James paused and Jesse could hear his brother’s unspoken question: What have you gotten yourself into now, little brother? He almost wanted to laugh. “See you then.” Jesse slipped his phone into his jeans pocket and waved Tina over. “What’s our tab? Time for some dinner.”

Tina didn’t even look at the page where she’d written down the beer orders since Jesse walked in. It wasn’t like she’d been swamped with customers for the last thirty minutes. “Twelve dollars.” He handed her a twenty, and when she walked back with his change, he waved her off. “Yours.” She smiled and tucked it into the tip jar. “I can always count on you, Mr. Sullivan. Too bad most of the men who come in don’t have your tipping expertise.”

“I just know how it is to sing for your supper, so to speak.” He frowned at the bathroom. Angie was taking too long just to fix her mascara. But then again, she did love her makeup. He smiled at Tina. “How’re classes going? You about done with your degree?” “One more year, then I’m kissing this place goodbye. My professor says she thinks I can get an internship at one of the accounting firms downtown.” She glanced down at her silver sparkling

tank and too-tight jeans. “I’m going to have to upgrade my work wardrobe just a tad.” “I don’t know about that, dear. You should see the clothes the girls are wearing in the corporate world.” Angie hitched her purse up on her shoulder. “You ready to go, cowboy?” Jesse tipped the brim of his ball cap to Tina. “See you next time.” As they walked out into the bright sunshine, he could have

sworn he heard a sigh come from the tough-as-nails bartender. He was really going to have to tread carefully here. He didn’t want to lose his favorite watering hole over girl trouble. Angie clicked open the doors on her car. “You want to ride with me, or follow?” He was already opening the door to his truck. “I’ve got an early appointment tomorrow. I’ll follow.” “Stubborn as the day is long.”

He rolled down his window and leaned out, his arm resting on the doorframe. “Runs in the family.” He motioned to her car. “Go on, I’ll follow you.” He watched her pull out onto the street that would lead them to the freeway, and eventually, out to Meridian. He clicked on his phone and gave it a verbal command. “Call George.” George Baxter was part lawyer, part family friend, and a good old boy. Jesse had programmed

George’s number into the contact list just in case he ever needed him. He thought about how the day was progressing, and today seemed like that kind of day. As soon as the line was connected, Jesse said, “There’s a family meeting out at the ranch tomorrow at 10:00 A.M. When can you get there?” George paused and Jesse could hear paper being flipped. “Ninethirty?” “Good enough.”

The man on the other end asked, “Can you give me a hint about the problem? An indiscretion? Drunk and disorderly? Hiring a hit man?” “Employment law and medical disabilities,” Jesse growled. A pause hung on the other end of the line. “That’s not what I expected.” “Glad I can keep you guessing.” Jesse turned the truck onto the freeway, stepping on the gas to keep

up with his lead-footed mother. “See you tomorrow.”

Chapter 13 “Definitely not our normal dining establishment.” Mike glared at the waitress dressed in Daisy Dukes and a tied-up flannel shirt, showing both her midriff and cleavage. Taylor smiled at the reaction and giggled. “I thought all men liked places like this.” The new barbeque restaurant had opened with a flair last month. Taylor had

heard the food was amazing, even if the waitstaff needed more fabric to their uniforms. When Mike had called an emergency dinner meeting, she’d suggested the place closest to her new gym. Mike huffed. “Not me. I’d rather see women dressed to leave something to the imagination. When it’s all out on display there’s no mystery.” “Well, you’re the one who just had to meet me for dinner tonight. My Pilates class starts at eight, so I

had to be somewhere nearby if we were going to make this happen.” Taylor glanced at the beer menu, then pushed it away. No need going to exercise tipsy. After the waitress had taken their order and brought her a large water and a cup of herbal tea, Taylor leaned back and looked at her companion. He was staring straight at her, clearly trying not to let his eyes be tempted by the young, buxom women floating around their table.

He took a sip of his whisky. “There really has to be somewhere else we can eat.” Taylor sighed. “What do you want, Mike? I think we both know that our relationship is purely business casual. There was never any heat between the two of us.” “That’s not true. Remember that kiss last New Year’s Eve?” He looked like a puppy that just had his favorite chew toy taken away forever.

“Heat of the moment, not real heat.” Taylor sighed. “Look, I don’t want to hurt you, but I’m not interested in anything but a friendship. And if you’re seeing us being more than that, we need to stop being friends.” “I don’t agree.” He held up his hand to stop Taylor’s next words. “But if that’s how you’re feeling, I won’t push. We’ll just be friends.” Taylor reached over and patted the top of his hand. “Thank you.”

“Well, isn’t this cozy?” Jesse stood in front of her, staring at her hand on Mike’s. She resisted the urge to jerk it back. Instead, she removed her hand slowly and put it under the table. “Hi, Jesse. I didn’t expect to see you tonight.” Taylor glanced around the room looking for his date. Finally, her eyes landed on Angie, who quickly turned her head. Had she been crying? What was going on?

“Mom asked me not to make a scene, and I won’t, for her sake.” Jesse leaned closer to her, whispering his next words into her ear. “But you and your lawyer buddy aren’t getting away with this. As soon as the ink’s dry on the contract to buy the gallery, you’re out on your pretty little butt.” Taylor jerked away. “Get away with what? What are you talking about?” Jesse hadn’t stayed for a response. He was already heading

to Angie’s table, his back to Taylor and Mike. “What was that all about?” Mike asked. Taylor shook her head, damning the tears filling up behind her eyes. She wouldn’t cry—not here, not in public, and certainly not over Jesse Sullivan. “Nothing.” “Sounds like the bull rider is high on something. Probably steroids. I hear they’re pretty rampant throughout the circuit.”

She shook her head. “Stop. This isn’t Jesse’s fault.” It’s mine. But she couldn’t tell Mike, a man who was most certainly in love with her, that she’d snuck out of Jesse’s bed this weekend like a prostitute already paid for the deed. “Let’s just eat.” When she finished her dinner, Jesse and Angie were gone from the dining room. Maybe Angie had changed her mind and told her youngest son about the cancer. Jesse would be a rock for her. She

just hoped Angie’s way would be lit brightly, and she’d come through the other side healthy and cured. She picked up her purse and threw a couple twenties down for the waitress. Mike picked the money up and pushed it back into her hand. “I’ll bill the office. I was going to talk business tonight, but I think it should wait until tomorrow. I’ll stop by the gallery late morning.” Taylor nodded. “I’ll be there.” She excused herself and turned

toward the restroom. When she returned to the dining room, Mike was gone and the table had already been cleared. She checked her watch and pulled her tote closer. She had five minutes to walk to class and get changed. The way her stomach was rolling, she probably should just skip tonight. She was still arguing with herself when she saw Jesse leaning against his truck, watching her. Determined, she squared her

shoulders, unwilling to go on the defensive. If he wanted to fight, they’d do it on her terms. She pointed a finger at him. “What did you think you were doing in there? Mike is my lawyer, nothing more. And your fight is with me, not him.” “I beg to differ. His name is on the letter.” Jesse tipped his hat further back on his head. “He’s just as much to blame as you are. Although, I think you’re coldhearted, from what Angie told me.”

“I am not cold-hearted,” she said, angrily, before his words sunk in. “Wait, what are you talking about? What’s Angie got to do with this?” He stood up straight, fury burning his cheeks a flame red. And heaven help her, she wanted him. Hot and angry, the boy was as sexy as he had been when he’d looked at her with lust. Or love. Her brain changed the descriptor without her permission. She took a step

forward, but caught herself before she’d gone running into his arms. He reached into the cab of the truck and grabbed a piece of paper. “Don’t play dumb-blond with me.” Jesse crumbled the page in his hand. “Are you really that heartless?” “What’s that?” Taylor tried to see what was written on the page, but Jesse wouldn’t hold still. “It’s the letter you had your henchman send to my mom. What did that cost you? Dinner and some

extracurricular activities later tonight?” His gaze flowed up and down her body. “I guess you’re good enough to sell it.” Any touch of positive emotion she’d felt at seeing Jesse escaped her as his words hit her like a sucker punch. “You are nuts. I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I don’t care.” “Of course not. You’re punishing Mom for what went on this weekend. Hell, I would have sworn you were having fun, too.”

Jesse didn’t meet her eyes. “At least, until I woke up alone in that hotel room with no note, no goodbye. You could have left some money on the table, and at least I would have understood. Or was this all payback from Ontario?” “I …” Taylor paused. What could she say? I did enjoy myself? I fell in love, so I ran? You’re too good for me? No, there wasn’t anything she could say to redeem her actions that night. She had decided their fate the minute she’d

run. “I really don’t know why you’re so upset about this. I had to catch an early flight back. Gallery business.” This time, Jesse looked at her. She felt his eyes burning into her soul, and she almost cringed as she realized he knew the lie. “I called Brit on Sunday. She didn’t know where you were. Unless your gallery business involved spending some one-on-one time with Mikey.” “It’s not any of your business who I spend time with.” She

regretted the words as soon as she said them. Jesse nodded, knowingly. Why wasn’t she just telling him she was confused, that she hid from everyone at the spa? Then the reason hit her: she didn’t want to appear weak. She didn’t want him to know that she needed him. She’d been strong and independent her entire life. Like Angie. Leaning on a man, especially one like Jesse, just wasn’t in the cards for her. She didn’t want to give in to anyone.

“Bingo.” Jesse crumpled the paper in his hand tighter. “I should have seen that coming. Girls like you don’t fall for bull riders. They like their men more metrosexual. They like doctors and … lawyers.” The word spit out of him like a cuss word. Taylor bit her lip. “Look, we had fun. Can’t we leave it at that?” For a minute, she thought he was going to try to convince her it wasn’t just fun. He took a half step forward, then sighed and climbed

into his truck. “Fair warning, I’m going to destroy you. After we sign the contract for the gallery, you’re out of a job. I’m going to tell every gallery owner in the area how you treat employees. They may hire you, or not. Of course, you always have Mike to take you in.” “Go to hell, Jesse Sullivan.” He started the truck and tipped his hat. “Not a problem.” She stared after him as he gunned the truck and sped down

the street. She yelled after him. “I hope you get a ticket.” A man walking by on the sidewalk chuckled. Taylor turned and stared, hoping to make him at least turn his head away from her. “Lovers’ quarrels are the best. Makes making up all the sweeter.” He squeezed the hand of a lady walking next to him. “Isn’t that right, dear?” She didn’t wait for the woman’s answer; instead, she turned away

from the direction of the gym where she had class. She didn’t want to go home and run into her parents. She didn’t want to just drive. She wanted a drink. Taylor took her cell out of her purse and punched Brit’s number. When the call was answered, she didn’t wait for a greeting. “You still got a bottle of tequila at your place?” ••• Jesse drove on autopilot up to the

ranch above Boise. He wanted to hit something. He wanted to kill someone. He wanted to turn the world back three years, to before Angie had come into their lives. Knowing you might have a mom somewhere out there who didn’t give a crap was much better than knowing she might be dying of cancer. And now, he’d broken up with Taylor too. Man, how could he have read her so wrong? Usually, he had a knack for picking out the mean

girls. The ones who liked the game more than being in love. He’d played with a few before, but he’d never given away his heart to that type. Until now. Angie’s leaving when he and James were kids had taught him one thing. Girls never stay. He’d fooled himself into thinking that Taylor was different. She’d had a normal childhood, a cool mom, but deep down, women were all the same. They were always looking for the best option for their future

husband. Hell, she probably had used sex just to get close to him and keep track of information on the gallery sale. If she thought she’d keep her job now, she was a bigger fool than he’d ever been. He sped the truck a little too fast on the winding road up the mountain, fishtailing on a corner. Thank God, no vehicle was coming down the road around that corner. He took a breath and slowed the truck. No use driving into the river running next to the road just

because of a girl. He’d get over this one. Idiot. He should have seen this coming. He thought of the portrait of her in his studio downtown. The soft curves of her body and the sparkle in her eyes, as if she had a secret. A freaking Mona Lisa smile. He parked the truck in front of the ranch house next to Angie’s BMW. He should have known she’d head up here once he sent her home from the restaurant. He slammed the truck door and

stomped into the house. “What are you doing here?” “Sit down and have a drink.” Angie sat in the living room in front of the lit fireplace. Even though it was still warm outside, the cabin felt welcoming, not stifling. “I don’t want to talk,” Jesse said as he grabbed a beer out of the silver bucket filled with ice and longnecks. Angie stared into the fire. “Me neither.”

He slipped into the leather recliner next to the sofa. After a few minutes, he said, “You’re going to be fine. And you’re going back to work as soon as the gallery deal is done. In the meantime, we’ll figure something out.” Angie nodded distractedly. “You know, I did love your father. I wish I’d been smarter back then. I had everything I ever needed in that little cabin.” “Can’t change the past,” Jesse said, even though, on the drive

here, that had been exactly what was on his mind. Changing his past, so this present would have never happened. “Your father used to set a fire once a week just so we could sit together and talk.” Angie smiled. “When you boys got old enough, we’d make hot dogs for dinner those nights, and roast marshmallows later.” “I remember. James always said I was going to burn my marshmallow holding it too close to

the flame.” Jesse smiled at the memory. “And he was right, you always did. Then James would give you his when you cried. That boy was Mr. Responsibility from day one.” “He took care of me for years. Years longer than I should have let him.” Jesse took a swig of his beer. “I almost messed up him and Lizzie.” “True love always wins, no matter what the obstacles.” Angie sat her drink down and stared at

him. “Speaking of, you’re in love with that girl.” Jesse shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. She’s not in love with me.” “Are you sure about that?” Angie’s voice was soft. Jesse thought about the fight less than an hour ago. “When she told me to go to hell, I think she was pretty sure about her feelings.” A soft laugh came from his mother. “Oh, honey, that just tells you how deep her emotions run. I’d be more worried if she’d just said

goodbye without any heat. Anger requires deep passion.” Jesse sipped his beer, thinking about his mother’s words. “Then the girl must be head over heels for me, because I’ve never seen her that mad.” His lips curve into a small smile. “But it doesn’t matter. She burned you. That’s reason enough to end the relationship, for me.” “Don’t use me as an excuse, Jesse Sullivan. You’ve been running from love your entire life. I’m not a

fool. I know why.” Angie sighed. “It was me. Maybe that’s why I’m sick: paying for my past transgressions. You think that’s what causes cancers? Little bits of life where you make the wrong decision, and the regrets fester into cancer years later?” Jesse stood from his chair and went to sit by Angie. He put his arm around her and she laid her head on his shoulder. “No, nothing you did caused this.” He paused. “Except,

maybe, the booze and cigarettes. You giving up smoking?” He felt her sigh. “I’ve got the patch on now. I started a week ago, right after I saw the doctor.” “Good girl.” Angie sat up and took a sip of her drink. “The doctor said to stop drinking too, but one fight at a time, right?” He smiled. “You can do anything.” “It’s not fair that the one time I really need a cigarette, I can’t have

one.” Angie stared into the fire. “Life sure throws you some curveballs at times.” That it does. He wondered how pissed she was going to be when the family posse showed up tomorrow. Of course, she’d get over it. Eventually. For once in their lives, they were going to stand together in the bad times. No more lying or running away. Watch out, cancer, he thought as he watched his mother in the firelight. We’re

coming after you, and Sullivans always win.

Chapter 14 Lizzie and Barb had started cooking a late breakfast when Angie walked through the door wrapped in a pink fluffy robe and feather slippers. At first, her face lit up and she glanced around the room. “What’s going on? Did you bring the kids with you?” When everyone looked at Jesse, realization hit Angie, and her

lips tightened. “Angie, it’s time to talk.” Jesse stood up and kissed her on one cheek, handing her a cup of coffee. She turned on him, her eyes wide with anger. In a low voice she said, “I told you not to mention this.” He led her to the table and pulled out a chair. “Sit down. We have some things to discuss.” She sat and glanced around the room. She smoothed hair with her hands when she saw George Baxter,

the family lawyer, sitting next to James. “You might have warned me to dress up before meeting you all like this.” James laughed. “You look fine.” He reached over and covered her hand with his own. “I’m sorry about this.” Jesse could see the tears fill Angie’s eyes as she nodded. Damn, she was trying to be cool, but he knew their concern touched her. “First things, first. We need to make a schedule." He tapped a notebook

and a calendar. When’s your next doctor appointment?” “Wednesday, with the surgeon, but …” Angie was cut off by Barb. “I’ll take that appointment and talk to that doctor to get an idea of what’s coming next.” Barb tapped the appointment into her phone. “What time should I pick you up?” “I really don’t need help.” Angie shook her head and scowled at Jesse. “This is why I didn’t want you to know. I don’t want to be a bother.”

The gathering around the table glanced at James. “Mom, you’re not a bother. We’re family and we’re going to fight this together. Don’t start pointing your finger at me. I’m not calling you Angie anymore. You’re my mother. Get used to it.” Angie wiped the tears from her eyes. “Okay, then. I never could talk you boys out of something once you got your minds made up.” “So what time do I pick you up?” Barb asked.

They discussed what the doctors had already told Angie, and filled their calendars with appointments and meetings. Lizzie and James decided to move down from the mountain back into the ranch house. “I’m not sure you’ll be getting much rest once the twins and JR arrive. Those boys love their grandma.” Lizzie smiled as she put a basket of cinnamon rolls on the table.

“I think they’ll be exactly what I need during my bad days.” Angie took a roll and broke it apart. “So are we done beating this thing to death?” “One more problem: your health insurance from the gallery.” George looked grim. “I’m not sure what I can do now, but as soon as Jesse signs the purchase contract we’ll get you back on the policy. Good news is that the insurance company cannot reject you on a pre-existing clause anymore. Can

you delay the surgery until the sale is finalized?” “No.” James’s answer came first. “We’ll hire her on at the agency and get her coverage today.” He glanced at Barb. “We can do that, right?” She shook her head. “Even if we hire her, there’s a ninety day waiting period on our policy. That’s why I keep the riders on the insurance year-round instead of just during the rodeo season. It

costs us more, but the guys are protected.” George looked at Jesse. “I’ll go talk to this Taylor girl and see if we can get her to change her mind. The sale will be finalized in the next thirty days or so. Typically, management doesn’t make big changes while things like this are pending. I don’t know what she was thinking.” Everyone’s gaze fell on Jesse. The room went silent as he struggled with the decision. Finally,

he put Angie’s needs in front of his own anger. What harm could it do to see Taylor again? “I’ll go with you.” ••• Taylor’s head pounded. She couldn’t believe she was even walking, considering the number of shots she’d pounded back last night. Salt, tequila, lemon, shudder. Rinse and repeat. At least she’d stopped crying about the fight with Jesse. Until she was truly good and drunk—then the

blues hit harder than she’d ever felt them before. She needed to change her coping mechanisms, or she’d find herself in an intervention meeting faster than her folks could say, “move out of our house.” She pulled out the file with the condo information. She’d planned on buying the place next year by using her savings and income from the gallery. With the gallery being sold, and her job no longer secure, she wondered if she should shelve the idea in case the next step in her

career wasn’t here in Boise. All because she’d clung to some desperate idea that she had to uphold the family name. She touched the pictures of the model kitchen. Granite counter tops, walnut cupboards, and, more important, a gas stove. She could see herself living there, making pastas and pastries. Making breakfast when Jesse stayed over, his arms surrounding her, kissing her neck as she took the omelet makings out of the stainless steel

refrigerator. She shook away the fantasy. She’d shut that door when she’d left Wyoming, doing her cross-state walk of shame. Frowning, she replayed the argument back in her mind. Jesse had been mad about her being out with Mike. As if there was something going on there—ha. But he’d said something else, too. He’d said that she’d hurt Angie. Maybe Jesse had found out about Angie’s health condition and blamed Taylor for not telling him first.

That didn’t sound right. Jesse was mad about a letter. She could see the crumpled paper in his hand as he railed last night. Taylor buzzed Brit, who was watching the front desk. “Hey, you feeling better? Want some more coffee?” Brit sounded fine. Like she hadn’t matched Taylor shot-for-shot last night. Taylor hated her for it, but only just a bit. “Coffee would be good,” she said. “Hey, is Angie in yet?”

There was a pause. “I’ll bring a cup in. And no, she hasn’t shown. Do you want me to call her?” “No.” Taylor opened her computer, looking for Angie’s cell number. She dialed the number and got her voicemail. When Angie’s prerecorded message ended, she left a brief message. “Call me. It’s Taylor.” As Brit came into the room, she nodded to the phone. “Didn’t reach her?”

“She said something yesterday about needing some time off. Maybe I didn’t write down the dates right.” Taylor sipped the black liquid like it was a healing potion. Brit slipped into one of the guest chairs. “I was going to ask you what you guys were talking about. You were in here a long time. Mike stopped by and waited for a while, but then he took out of here like a shot.” “Wait. Mike was here when I was talking to Angie?” Taylor

frowned; he hadn’t mentioned that last night. The guy was beginning to feel like a creepy stalker instead of a concerned lawyer. Maybe it was better that the gallery was being sold. This way, she could cut her ties with Mike without hurting his feelings any more than she had last night. Brit didn’t seem concerned, though. “He watched the front for me while I took a bathroom break, but he took off when I came back. Said he’d talk to you later.”

“Weird.” Taylor glanced around the office. “Well, I guess in a few weeks this will be Jesse’s office. Has he said anything about keeping you on? You know, you don’t have to leave just because I’m persona non gratis around here.” Brit shrugged. “Doesn’t matter one way or the other. But no, he hasn’t talked to me. I’m surprised he kicked you to the curb. You want to tell me what really happened in Wyoming?”

Taylor leaned back, tapping a pen on her grandfather’s desk. “I screwed it up. Have I always been a runner?” Her friend laughed. “You’ve never let anyone get this close before, so it’s hard to say. I can count on one hand the number of guys you’ve dated seriously, and that includes Jesse. Me, on the other hand, I’m a free spirit.” “Is that what they call it?” Taylor felt her lips curl. Talking to Brit always made her feel better.

“Depends on who ‘they’ are.” Brit made air quotes with her fingertips. “My last boyfriend called me a slut when we broke up.” “He was a jerk.” The front doorbell rang and Brit stood, a wicked smile on her face. “Doesn’t mean I wasn’t a slut.” “Silly,” Taylor called after her friend as she left. Relationships were too hard. Art was easy. You found something you loved and bought it. You found things other people might love, and bought

them. If they didn’t sell, then you were wrong. Love should be that easy. A knock on the door brought her out of her musing. She looked up, half expecting Angie to be standing there in one of her wild outfits. Instead, Brit stood in the doorway, her face lined with worry. “What’s up?” Taylor asked. “Jesse and his lawyer are here. Do you feel up to talking to them?” Brit lowered her voice. “Should I

call Mike and have him come over before you meet with them?” “No. I mean, don’t call Mike. I’m sure this is just something about the sale and my imminent departure. Send them in.” Taylor glanced at her reflection in the monitor, hoping she didn’t look as bad as she felt. “Stupid,” she said to herself. What did she care how she looked? Jesse had broken up with her last night. No need to pretend she hadn’t been upset. She took a

deep breath and stood as the two men walked into the office. “Thank you for seeing us,” the older man said. “I don’t think we’ve met before. George Baxter. I’m the Sullivan family lawyer.” Taylor shook his hand and motioned to the two guest chairs in front of her desk. “Family lawyer? I assumed you were here about the gallery sale contract.” A look passed between Jesse and George. “I handle their business issues, as well. Although

this isn’t about the sale; we’ve come to ask for a favor.” “I don’t understand.” Taylor ignored the lawyer and focused on Jesse. “After your tirade last night, you want a favor from me?” Jesse wouldn’t meet her gaze. George spoke again. “Miss DeMarco, we are here on behalf of Angie.” Fear shot through her. “Oh my God, is she all right? I tried to call her just now. Is that why she didn’t come in to work?”

This time Jesse didn’t hold back. “Like you care? Like you were expecting her?” Taylor’s hands shot up in frustration. “Seriously, Jesse, get over yourself. Just because I didn’t stay and cuddle after we made love the other night, doesn’t mean I don’t care about Angie. Why isn’t she here?” George put a hand on Jesse’s arm, a gesture encouraging him to be silent. Now she was really worried. But she’d promised Angie

she wouldn’t be the one who told Jesse. Maybe they didn’t know about her condition. If she was in the hospital, Taylor needed to say something. Her mind whirled as the two men sat quietly in front of her. Finally, Jesse nodded and the lawyer turned toward her. “With the gallery sale in the final stages, we had hoped you wouldn’t make any staffing changes.” The man opened a briefcase and pulled out a pile of papers. “We’re willing to make

some concessions in exchange for this request.” Taylor glanced down at the page on top of the pile he had set in front of her. “I’m confused. What are we talking about? Where’s Angie?” George took a crumbled sheet of paper from his suit pocket. “Angie received this yesterday by courier. You didn’t know?” Taylor breathed a sigh of relief. This wasn’t about the cancer. There was something else going on.

Probably some issue from Angie’s wild past coming back to haunt her. Taylor bit back a smile, wondering what trouble the woman had gotten herself into now. She was beginning to really enjoy working with the unpredictable Sullivan clan. Unfortunately, that was almost over due to her inability to keep her relationship with the new owner professional. The desire to smile left her, and she took the page from George.

Mike’s law firm’s letterhead struck her first. Oh, man, this can’t be good. She skimmed the letter releasing Angie from employment with the gallery and wishing her safe travels. She pushed the letter back to the lawyer. No wonder Jesse was hot. Mike must have overheard her and Angie’s conversation and taken it upon himself to solve the problem. She thought about his call yesterday for dinner. He had to talk to her. Of course, once she’d

misinterpreted the meeting and told him she just wasn’t into him, this subject hadn’t come up. It wasn’t the first time Mike had acted on his own rather than at her direction. Unless he’d called Dad and got his permission. She had calls to make. “I didn’t authorize this termination. As long as I’m gallery director, Angie has a job here.” She glared at Jesse whose eyes widened. “Of course, your client has made it very clear I’m not being asked to stay on during the transition, so I

can’t make any promises for after the contract is settled.” George shot a glance at Jesse, who, to Taylor’s amusement, had the grace to look sheepish. “So she will continue on your insurance during the transition?” Taylor stared at the two, wondering what they knew. Obviously, Angie had told them enough that they were fighting for her job and health insurance. Still, no one had said the word cancer, and it wasn’t going to come out of

her mouth before she knew exactly what Angie had said. Taylor tapped her finger on the desk. “This letter was a mistake. I didn’t authorize it. And if my father did, he will reverse the decision as soon as I talk to him.” She stared at Jesse, but her words were aimed at the lawyer. “Please tell Angie to return to her normal schedule and that everything we discussed yesterday is still in place.” George nodded toward the stack of papers he’d set on the desk.

“You don’t want to read our offer?” Taylor shook her head. “There’s no need. This was a big misunderstanding on the gallery’s part. Angie is a vital and important member of our staff, and we need her here. She can take the day off, but the two of us will talk in the morning when she comes in for her shift.” She pushed the stack of papers back to George. “This is between Angie and me. There’s no need for lawyers.” “You started it,” Jesse said.

Taylor saw George squeeze his client’s shoulder while he responded. “Now, Jesse, Ms. DeMarco has just explained this was a terrible misunderstanding.” He stood, pulling Jesse up out of his chair as well. “Thank you for seeing us. I’m sure Angie will be overjoyed at the news.” Taylor felt tears fill in her eyes, but swallowed hard when she saw Jesse frown in confusion. Overjoyed wasn’t a feeling she believed Angie would be having for

a long time. At least, not until the doctor pronounced her cured, which could be many years from now. She was going to kill Mike. If he’d gone behind her back to her dad …? Fury consumed her, but she had to keep it together for a few more minutes. She had to wait until Jesse and his hired gun were out of the room. She’d thought the fight last night was about their relationship. But no, he was sticking up for his mother.

The tears threatened again, but she pushed them away and stood, watching George stuff the paperwork back into his briefcase. Jesse might think she was a dragon lady, but she didn’t have to act like it. She held her hand out to George to conclude their discussion. “Thank you for clarifying this mess. It’s nice to have a rational conversation with someone.”

••• Jesse sat quietly while George pulled the car away from the curb. He saw the look his friend gave him, but turned away to stare out the window. “You can’t blame her, Jesse.” George maneuvered the car out of downtown’s main streets. They got on the highway heading toward the ranch to deliver the good news to the crew. “Sounds like her lawyer

went rogue on her. I’d hate to be in his shoes when she calls him.” Jesse thought about what he’d seen last night at the restaurant. Taylor had looked focused, tapping the table, relaying something serious to Mike, who looked like a wounded bunny. Until Jesse went over and made a scene. The bastard had looked happy then. No, Jesse corrected himself, hopeful. Jesse’s outburst had made the guy look hopeful. Had Taylor been telling the jerk she wasn’t interested? And

Jesse had misinterpreted the conversation? “I wish she’d at least looked at the papers you drew up.” Jesse sighed. “I’m going to have to fix my mistakes all on my own, huh?” George chuckled. “Typically, that’s how life works. You make the mess, you clean it up. But it was a good strategy. I’m sure she’ll work with you on this. The girl seems to have a good head on her shoulders for business.”

Jesse glanced at his watch. “I’m flying out again tomorrow to meet with sponsors. Can you work on fast-tracking this sale? I’d like to get the contracts signed next week when I get back.” “Getting antsy to take on a new enterprise?” George turned the vehicle onto the road that would take them to the ranch. “When are you announcing your retirement?” Jesse sighed. “Barb wants me to wait until December, after the

Vegas finals. I’d rather walk away today.” “Barb knows what she’s doing. Besides, if you win, you might be able to keep some of those merchandising contracts for a few years.” Jesse stared out the window, not seeing the pine trees and forestland surrounding the road. “That’s what she tells me. George, you ever just get tired?” “Every night, but I don’t think that’s what you’re talking about.

This thing with Angie got you spooked? People live through cancer all the time. And if her doctors caught it early …” Jesse held his hand up. “Can’t talk about Angie right now. Just can’t. But what I was thinking about was always being ‘on.’ I’m not a real person; I’m the bull rider. Sometimes that gets into your head, you know?” George parked in front of the cabin behind the rows of cars that had arrived for the emergency

family meeting. He turned off the engine and looked at Jesse. “You’ve never just been the bull rider to the people who really matter. You’ve been Jesse. And those are the people you have to hold close while you’re transitioning. I won’t blow smoke at you—you’re going to have a tough time letting go of the limelight. But you can do it.” “Thanks.” Jesse paused for a second, his hand on the door handle and his gaze on the cabin.

“I’m one of those people in your corner. So any time you need to talk, call me. I won’t even charge you the standard billable hour rate for the call.” Jesse chuckled. “Glad to know.” The men walked up to the ranch house to give everyone the good news. Angie’s job and insurance status were intact. That should have made Jesse feel better, but a black cloud still weighed heavily on his heart. He needed to

correct his mistake before he lost the chance forever.

Chapter 15 A red-faced Mike sat in the leather chair in front of Taylor’s desk. Her father sat in the chair across from Mike. The lawyer pounded the desk. “You aren’t thinking this through. Her condition could raise your premiums. Do you want to lose your policy completely?” “What I want is a lawyer who advises me, not runs to my father to

go over my head every time he overhears a conversation.” Taylor had already talked to her dad. Mike had made it seem like Taylor was on board with the firing of Angie. When they’d met, Taylor had told her father the entire truth. That way Mike couldn’t throw her under the bus. Like he was doing. Mike changed his tactic, turning to Rich DeMarco. “Sir, you have to realize what I did was for the good of the gallery. If Taylor expects to get the backing in place

to force a sale to her, rather than this cowboy, she needs a strong package. And having the cowboy’s mother there wasn’t helping her proposal.” Taylor bristled, but saw her father’s hand motioning her to calm down. Before the meeting, Taylor and her dad had agreed on a plan. Now Taylor just had to keep her cool while Rich worked it out. “We appreciate your valuable advice over the years, but I agree with Taylor, you stepped over the

line with this action. I’m afraid we won’t need your services any longer.” He pushed a business card toward Mike. “Please transfer our company and personal files over to Samantha Jones at this address. She’s now our attorney.” Mike’s eyes widened. “You’re firing me? Over this?” “According to our new attorney, you’re lucky we aren’t filing charges against you with the law board. But I convinced her that you were a longtime family friend and, as such,

probably had our best interest at heart.” Taylor leaned back in her chair, waiting for the reaction. She didn’t have to wait long. “This is because you’re sleeping with him. Taylor, he’s a player. You don’t know how many women he’s had in his bed.” Mike turned his attention on her. “You’re just the flavor of the month.” That stung for a few seconds, but she knew Mike was hurt and lashing out. Hadn’t she thought the same thing about Jesse? Now Mike

had to go explain to the partners at his firm why he’d lost the DeMarco family and the gallery’s business. That conversation wouldn’t be pleasant; not at all. “My personal relationships have nothing to do with this decision. I’m sorry, but your services are no longer needed.” She stared at him, waiting for him to leave. “You are cold-hearted. All I ever wanted was to help you, even when you came up with this crazy

scheme.” Mike stood. “I’ll send over my final bill this afternoon.” He walked toward the door and her father called after him. “If you’re smart, you won’t be charging us for that problem yesterday.” Mike didn’t answer, slamming the door as his farewell message. Taylor sighed and looked at her father. “Thanks for being here, Dad. I can’t believe he even pulled something like this. I was mortified when Jesse and the lawyer showed up yesterday.”

Her dad stood and held his arm out. “I think you need a hug.” She fell into his arms and held back her tears. She wasn’t sure why she felt like crying. Pick a topic, she thought. Jesse, Angie, Mike’s betrayal, losing her job at the gallery … it could be any or all of the above. He sat her down in one of the chairs. “We do have to clear something up, though. If you want to buy the gallery, we won’t sell to him. Your mom and I thought you’d

be pleased with having the freedom to travel and explore the world. We didn’t want you to feel stuck here in Boise, running a small gallery.” Here was her chance. She could stop this entire problem with one word. Well, three. Don’t sell to Jesse. Okay, it was four. Last night, she’d made her decision to walk away. Her life wasn’t just the gallery, it needed to be more. And this was one way she could force herself to change. Instead, she smiled. “Dad, I want you to sell the

gallery. And you and Mom are going to do just that. I’m looking forward to finding a new path.” As the dark cloud lifted from her father’s face, she thought that maybe, just maybe, she might even mean the words. When her father left her office, she dug into the monthly reports. She’d let the paperwork slide for the last week or two. Her boy trouble had left her too busy to do her job. And by God, as long as it was her job, she’d make sure she walked

away with a clean conscience. Besides, she would probably need this reference for her next appointment. No need to burn a bridge and hope her contacts in the art world would keep her solvent. She paused a moment, then went to the website for her favorite airline. Glancing at the calendar and adding two weeks for complications, she booked a flight to Paris without a return ticket. Taylor would figure out the details later, but for now, she had her first

stop on her freedom tour. Her parents would be happy for her. Too bad she didn’t feel the same way. Her stomach growled, and she glanced at the clock. She’d been reviewing the ongoing contracts for over two hours. Time for lunch. Today, she was going out. Might as well start feeling like the unemployed bum she would be in less than a month’s time. Learn to relax, as Brit would say. Angie was on the phone when she entered the front of the gallery.

“I’ve got to go,” Angie whispered into the phone. She quickly hung up and stood to greet Taylor. “Thank you for bringing me back.” Taylor felt the tears well in her eyes. Then Angie threw her arms around her, and Taylor was engulfed in a warm hug. One or two of the unwanted tears fell down her cheeks. “I didn’t do anything; I just stopped someone else from being a jerk.”

Angie brushed off a stray teardrop. “You stood up for me. And I’ll never forget that.” Taylor smiled. “I should be thanking you. Mike was off the rails and out of control. If Jesse and your lawyer hadn’t told me, I would have thought you’d quit. The guy had become too controlling.” Angie studied her with a look on her face Taylor couldn’t decipher. “Love can make you act crazy.”

“That’s the problem—I never even saw that coming with Mike. Brit told me he had a thing for me for years, but I always thought we were just friends.” Taylor swung her tote bag on her shoulder. “Anyway, I’m heading out to grab a long lunch and maybe even a glass of wine before I come back and tackle the rest of those contract reviews. I have my cell if you need me.” “Take your time. We’ll be fine. Brit just left to grab a pizza for us, and she’s going to teach me how to

set up a display.” Angie beamed. “She says I have a knack for visual placement.” “You’ll be running the place before Jesse knows it.” Taylor cringed at the words. She could see the family involved in the gallery. Picking artists and giving their own twist on the art world, just like she and her grandfather had done when she started working with him. Grief stabbed at her heart. For a minute, she wasn’t sure if the pain was caused by losing her grandfather,

the gallery, or her connection with Jesse and his family. “He cares about you,” Angie said, interrupting her thoughts. Taylor smiled and shook her head. “I’m afraid I’ve closed that door. However, I know he cares about you. You told them about the cancer, didn’t you?” “I told Jesse when I got that lawyer letter. Then he brought in the entire group. I swear, that boy can’t keep a secret to save his life.”

“You’ll appreciate the support later. Don’t be so stubborn—it’s nice to have family.” Taylor paused at the door. “But, if you ever need something, you know you can call me too.” Angie nodded, then waved Taylor out the door. “Go to lunch. We can sing ‘Kumbaya’ and roast marshmallows when you get back.” Taylor left the gallery, and as she walked past the large picture windows she saw Angie pick up the phone.

••• An hour later, filled with seafood, pasta, garlic bread, and not one, but two glasses of wine, Taylor strolled back to the gallery. She’d stopped in a dress shop and picked up a new purse that she had seen in the window as she passed the storefront. She patted the new bag on her shoulder as she walked. Impulse purchase or not, it represented her new life. The canvas tote was huge with hand-

painted purple pansies strung across the outside. She’d been able to stuff her old bag inside with no problem. Time to take care of Taylor. She might even take the rest of the afternoon off and go walk through the art museum. Taylor swung open the door to the gallery, deciding to do just that. She’d take a cab down to the museum and walk away this pleasant buzz she felt. “Angie? Brit?” No one was at the front desk. Odd, but Angie had

mentioned they were working on a display. She dumped her bag behind the counter and headed toward the first display room. Empty. Frowning, she stepped farther into the gallery. Her stomach clenched and the pleasant buzz in her head disappeared fast. Something felt wrong. Entering the last display room, she saw the picture. The room had been draped in all black, letting a single light shine on the painting. A painting of her.

Taylor walked up to the easel and studied the lines. The way her smile teased and her eyes in the portrait danced, she almost looked like a Renaissance model. She half expected to find fat cherubs circling her nearly naked form. Instead, the rest of the picture was set in a bed. Sheets tangled, keeping her modest, but hinting at a perfect body that she knew didn’t quite match her own. “Do you like it?”

The question came from behind her. Jesse. She didn’t turn when she answered. “You did this? How?” “From your sitting at your mom’s class. Of course, I played with the surroundings a bit.” Jesse’s voice sounded closer now. She could almost feel his hand on her back, supporting her. “Typically, it takes several sittings to finish a portrait like this. You did it from just one?” She turned, challenging him. If she’d

found out he’d taken pictures of her when she was asleep, she was going to kill him. “The rest was from memory. Believe me, you’re hard to get out of my thoughts.” Jesse took her hand. “I need to ask you something.” She wanted to pull away. She felt a jolt of energy run through her body as he held her hand. Something so simple shouldn’t feel so sexual. Shouldn’t make her want to kiss him. “I don’t think we have anything to talk about. I’m getting

the office ready for the transition. You should be able to work directly with Brit on any questions you have.” “You didn’t read the proposal George drafted.” Jesse stepped closer. Taylor shrugged. “No need. Angie shouldn’t have been fired. It was a mistake, and one I’ve corrected, so you didn’t need to convince me to keep her on.” Jesse stared at her hand and the look made her shiver. “I didn’t

just want Angie to stay on. The papers said you’d stay on as manager after the sale.” Taylor sighed. “We both know that’s not going to happen.” “Why not? We make a good team—as long as we’re completely honest with each other.” Taylor laughed. “When have we been honest? We always seem to be doing this dance. If I’m chasing, you’re running. And if you chase . . . ”

“You run. I get it. You need more of a commitment.” “Like a painting of me in your bed.” Taylor turned back to the painting. It was hauntingly beautiful, not because she was beautiful, but because the artist had painted her that way. “I never said it was my bed. But no, that isn’t what I’m talking about.” Jesse paused. “I know I’m not in your league. But I’m going to take a chance here. If you say no, I’ll quit bothering you. You can stay

on as manager, or not, it’s your choice.” “So you’re asking me to keep running the gallery?” Taylor kept her voice steady, even though she wanted to scream, or turn and kiss the heck out of the man next to her. How could he mess with her feelings so much? No one ever got her this worked up. No one, except Jesse. “No. I mean, yes, but that’s not my question.” He took her shoulders and spun her around to

face him. As she searched his eyes, he kneeled before her. This can’t be happening, she thought. No way. I’m misunderstanding the action. As she watched, Jesse pulled a ring out of his shirt pocket. He held the diamond up to her. “Taylor DeMarco, will you marry me?” “Have you lost your mind?” Taylor stared at the perfect marquise-cut diamond in a platinum setting. It couldn’t have

been more perfect if she’d chosen the ring herself. Brit had to have had a hand in this decision. Her mind raced. Marry Jesse. She glanced at the painting. Jesse sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Probably. I can’t sleep, food tastes like sawdust, and all I’ve been able to focus on for weeks is that painting. So, insanity is an option. Is that a no? I’m feeling a little foolish down here on one knee, especially if you’re going to blow me off.” Jesse rubbed his

thumb over the top of her knuckles. “Think about it. We’re good together.” “When we’re not trying to kill each other.” Taylor’s heart was going to beat out of her chest. So this was what it felt like. She felt scared, disoriented, and ecstatic, all at the same time. “Life will never be dull. We have passion.” Jesse squeezed her hand. “I can’t imagine going through the rest of my life without you. When we met, something in

me awoke, like I’d been asleep for a really long time. And honestly, that scared me. You weren’t a one-night stand.” “Two.” Taylor reminded him. “Fine, two-night stand. Stop interrupting me, woman, I’m trying to make a point.” “Yes, sir,” Taylor said, stifling a laugh. “Anyway, you scared the crap out of me. I know love doesn’t come to everyone. I’m not stupid enough to throw it away when it does.

Someone once told me to marry the person I can’t live without. That’s you.” “I think it’s from a movie. Don’t marry the person you can live with, but the one you can’t live without.” Taylor broke her gaze away from Jesse and looked at the picture. “Do you really see me like that?” Jesse swore under his breath. “No, I couldn’t get the right look. You’re so much more beautiful than I could hope to draw.”

She turned back, her free hand waving at the portrait. “Oh, Jesse, I could never be this beautiful.” This time he stood and pulled her into his arms. “To me, you are.” He then captured her lips in a deep, slow kiss.. A kiss that was more of a promise than a desire. When he stopped, he stared into her eyes, pausing just a moment before asking, “Will you marry me?” She took the ring away from him. “I just bought a ticket to Paris for next month.”

“So that’s a no?” Pain flitted across Jesse’s face. Taylor shook her head and slipped the diamond on her left ring finger. “That’s a yes, but my ticket better be refundable.” This time when he kissed her, she felt the room moving under them. “I’ll eat the cost if it isn’t.”

Chapter 16 The first weekend in May was unseasonably warm that year. Lizzie and James had pushed off the seasonal opening of Hudson’s Spa, the rural bed and breakfast retreat they ran, for a week, letting the family take over the four cabins surrounding their home. James had been busy remodeling the big house to add more bedrooms. The twins

were getting kicked out of the nursery to make room for a new arrival coming that fall. “I swear, you’re carrying a girl,” Angie said, patting Lizzie’s stomach. They sat around a picnic table out in the large backyard, enjoying the spring sunshine next to the riverbank. Angie’s hair was spiky, short, and gray—a look she’d sported after being able to give up her scarf collection. She donated all the scarves to a cancer support group for newly diagnosed

members. “You’re carrying her totally differently than you did the boys.” “That’s because there’s just one growing in there.” Lizzie laughed. “Not that we don’t want a girl, I just don’t want to jinx it.” “Be careful what you wish for,” Barb said. “I never thought raising a girl would be the challenge Kadi’s putting us through. Did you know she wants her ears pierced? Apparently she’s the only child in her class that can’t wear earrings.

And don’t get me started on the makeup argument.” Barb leaned over and touched her newborn son’s foot sticking out of the blanket covering the car seat. “Grey won’t give us half the trouble Kadi does.” “Don’t count on it. Boys are different.” Angie sipped on her iced tea. “I’ll take her next weekend and get her ears pierced. You should have told me—I would have done it last month when we went clothes shopping.”

“Hunter would have a cow if she came home with studs in her ears.” Barb dipped a chip into the homemade salsa. “Let’s just give him some time to adjust to the preteen years, okay?” “I just don’t see the problem. Let the girl live. She’s already had a taste of how unfair and short life can be. Losing her folks that young could have made her a basket case instead of turning into a horse nut.” Angie ran her hand through her

hair. “Take it from someone who knows.” “Believe me, I realize that every day.” Barb unhooked Grey from his carrier and sat the boy on her lap, kissing his bald head. Angie glanced around the gathering, “Angelic was spot on with her prediction.” Lizzie frowned. “What prediction?” “She said if Jesse bought the gallery, change would happen.” Angie waved her hands indicating

the yard. “And look at all the changes.” “It’s called life, Angie. Life happened, not a fortuneteller’s prediction.” Barb held her palm flat for Grey to explore with his tiny fingers. Angie sniffed. “Whatever you want to believe. I just know the woman is a godsend with her counsel.” The women wore sundresses, shorts, and sandals for the parade. They waited for the boys to get

ready to go. JR and James had gone ahead with the horse trailer, as they were riding as part of JR’s horse club. The twins ran around the edges of the yard playing chase with Kadi, who looked more like the child she was than the teenager she’d soon be. Hunter sat alone near the river, watching the water sparkle over the rocks. Only two people were missing. Jesse and Taylor. •••

“I should wear the suit.” Jesse reached for the black suit lying out on the bed. Taylor slapped his hand. “You look great.” She smoothed his button-down shirt, flipping his too-long hair over the shirt collar. “A suit is overkill. You wanted to have your first show here as part of Shawnee Rodeo Weekend. Now you have to dress like a cowboy, or all the critics will be disappointed.” “I wanted to get away from the bull rider stigma. What was I

thinking?” He sank onto the bed and put his head in his hands. Taylor sat next to him. “Your show is going to be amazing. I’ve already heard from six of the major art sites. They have people here from Boise just for today’s opening. Bull riding is what you did, not who you are.” “Tell that to Angie. I swear, she was showing everyone who walked into the studio last week photos from the championship last winter.”

He took her hand. “You really think they’ll like the show?” “You’re a talented artist. Why do you think DeMarco Gallery is sponsoring your show?” She kissed his cheek. “Because I own the gallery?” He smiled. “I hear the tribe getting anxious out there. We better make our appearance.” She stood and put her hand on his chest. “I love you, Jesse Sullivan.”

He kissed her, slowly and sweetly]. “I love you, Taylor DeMarco Sullivan.” He went to step away but she held him. “Seriously, they’ll come looking for us in about three minutes. Lizzie won’t miss JR riding in the parade.” He squeezed her hand. “I don’t have time to ravage you on the bed, or in the hot tub.” “In your dreams.” Taylor bit her lip. “I just wanted to tell you one thing before we met up with

your family. Something you should know. Although, I’m not sure how happy you’re going to be.” “Oh God, you’ve already heard from the critics. They hate the show. They hate me.” Jesse searched her face. “Wait, you look happy. They liked me?” “No. I mean, I don’t know.” She took a deep breath. “What I need to tell you, before we go meet with your family, is that we have a family right here. In this room.”

Jesse laughed. “Oh, honey, I know. You’re my family now. It’s just, the Sullivans are pretty inyour-face close, especially when we all get together. You’ll get used to it.” She held him tight as he tried to step away. “Listen to me. We’re a family. You, me, and …” Taylor let her gaze drop down to her stomach. “Lizzie’s not the only one expecting a new arrival.” Jesse’s eyes widened. “You’re pregnant? What, when?”

“Well, I’m pretty sure it happened on our trip to Sun Valley a few months ago. I thought I was just busy, that I had forgotten. But when I started feeling sick, Brit took me to the doctor last week. We’re having a baby.” Jesse picked her up and swung her around the cabin bedroom. “A baby.” As they walked out to the backyard to tell the family about their newest addition, Taylor felt tears fill her eyes. She saw the

picture take shape in front of her. Their life had become a painting Norman Rockwell could have done; one called A Summer Gathering. Family. Messy, crazy, and most of all, loving. Her family now. She was a Sullivan.

About the Author Lynn Cahoon’s a multi-published author. An Idaho native, her stories focus around the depth and experience of small town life and love. Lynn is published in the Chicken Soup anthologies, has explored controversial stories for the confessional magazines, has short stories in Women’s World, and contemporary romantic fiction.

Currently, she’s living in a small historic town on the banks of the Mississippi river where her imagination tends to wander. She lives with her husband and four fur babies. She can be found at her website.

Crimson Sneak Peek

What a Texas Girl Wants by Kristina Knight

Jackson Taylor’s toes clenched as he came abruptly awake, the left side of his body shivering. The right, however, was delectably warm. A soft weight held his shoulder down, the feel of a woman’s curves pressed hard against his chest. Cold water tickled his feet and wet sand dug into his butt. The tangy, salty smell of the ocean filled his nostrils. Another tickle of water. A slight shiver came from the curvaceous woman beside

him before she settled back into sleep. A flash of red hair, spinning lanterns, and Latin dance music raced through his mind before it went blank. The infernal pounding started again behind his right temple. Must have been a great night. The naked body lying next to his on the beach said as much. Jackson levered his eyes open as the first fingers of yellow touched the white sand beach. He

winced as intense sunlight hit his eyes. Another postcard perfect day in Puerto Vallarta. He would be perfectly happy spending it with the drapes closed and a couple gallons of hair of the dog. If he could just get back to his hotel room. Damn. Thirty-one was years too old to be waking up, hung-over, not knowing where he was or how he had gotten there. Pretty chestnut hair hid the woman’s face. At least the woman he almost remembered seemed to

be the woman he was with, but for the life of him Jackson couldn’t draw a mental picture of her. Just what the hell had he done last night? Well, the what was fairly simple to answer if the sand digging into his butt was any indication. No clothes tempered the feel of her soft skin against him. It had been a long time since Jackson had woken up beside a woman unable to recall who she was or how they had met.

He had never liked the feeling, and liked it even less this morning. Chilly water washed over his feet to his ankles. As the water returned to the sea, his heels dug deeper into the sand creating tiny tide pools. He had to move. But if he moved he would disturb the woman sleeping softly on his right shoulder. Somehow he didn’t think she would appreciate his jumping up and running for the nearest rock

to answer the call of nature, leaving her alone in the chilly morning tide. Another flash, this time of long, smooth leg sliding over his hips and sinking into the sand. Jackson squeezed his eyes together, trying to make the vision last. But no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t follow the woman’s leg up her body to her face. Had he picked up a random woman on the Malecon the previous night?

Where were their clothes? If he could get up, he could at least cover the woman with a shirt or something before running for the rocks rimming the beach. Jackson angled his head but couldn’t see anything except sand and some seaweed on either side of them. Sunlight glinted off glass high above. A villa. They were probably trespassing on a private beach. He had to get out of here. The quicker the better.

This was not going to go over well with the nameless woman. Water splashed over his ankles to his calves. He didn’t have much time. Why wasn’t she waking up? Jackson bent his neck and saw that her legs barely reached below his knees. No wonder she was still asleep. She was dry. Taking a deep breath, Jackson tried to wriggle his arm free. He managed to gain a couple of inches of freedom before she burrowed

back into his chest. Great. A cuddler. Her left hand rested over his sternum, sunlight glinting off the thin gold band on her ring finger. He hadn’t just had a one night stand; he had apparently had a one night stand with a married woman. He sank back onto the sand, the rising tide forgotten for a moment. Jackson Taylor liked sex, everyone knew that. But he drew the line at having sex with married women. Some things were meant to

be sacred. Damn it, how drunk could he have been not to notice a wedding ring? And why hadn’t the husband been hanging all over her? How had Jackson been allowed not only to dance with her but to take her away? Another snippet of music flashed in his brain along with a wide, laughing smile. Perfectly shaped lips, head thrown back, beautifully shaped neck. And then everything went black again.

Jackson didn’t have to see her face to know the woman lying on his chest was a beauty. He felt her soft curves and silky skin against his body. If she were his woman he would be hounding any man within a twenty mile radius who got too close. Not that she, whoever she was, would ever be his woman. Jackson wasn’t built for permanent. He rubbed his eyes with his free hand. He had to get out of here. Now.

Yanking a little harder, Jackson managed to free his arm to the elbow. The red-head’s hand clasped and unclasped over his chest as if she were reaching for something. Probably him. A couple more tugs and he would be free of her. Jackson didn’t feel so bad about leaving her, naked and alone, on the beach now that he knew she was married. What kind of woman did that? What kind of man sleeps with a woman he doesn’t even know? an

ugly voice in his head asked. The voice made him pause. What kind of man, indeed. ••• The earth was moving. And not in a good way. Kathleen Witte reached out, trying to grab on to something. Anything. But her hands met only with air. She shifted, and her shoulder dug into damp sand. Where was

she? Her eyes flew open, and she winced at the bright sunlight. The beach? What happened to the villa? And her… Sweet Mary, Mother of God, what happened to her clothes? Quickly, Kathleen flipped over so she was lying stomach-down on the sand. She shivered as a splash of water reached her feet. Looking left and then right, Kathleen scanned the area. No white dress. No strappy sandals. Had they been washed out with the tide? Had she come to the

beach naked? No. She wouldn’t have. She took a deep breath. Her clothes had to be here somewhere. Maybe she had decided to go skinny-dipping. She was in Mexico, after all. What better way to blow off a little steam than with some late night skinny-dipping? The villa included a private beach, it wasn’t as if she’d run into anyone. The old Kathleen would have balked. Said no with a quiet smile and watched as her sisters had all the fun. The

new and improved Kathleen wasn’t leaving life to her sisters, and God knew she had plenty of steam to blow off. So maybe that was all this was. Blowing off a little steam with a naked swim in the warm Pacific. Colorful lights and a heavy bass rhythm had filled her head before everything went dark. The feel of a man’s hands on her waist, leading her around the dance floor echoed in her memory. With sudden certainty she knew she hadn’t spent the night

alone and that she’d not been innocently skinny-dipping last night. Oh, God. Seven months of fighting with Grandfather about running the ranch, of twisting her life inside out to prove she had the heart and commitment to become the allwork-no-play girl Grandfather needed had blown up after only a couple of nights in Mexico. Seven months without the feel of a man against her body, holding her close. She shivered, imagining

the phantom lover from her dreams. Seven months of no life was long enough. She’d get one, even if it were only for the next week. That’s what this whole trip to Mexico was about. Declaring her independence. And damn the whole family if they didn’t get on board. But waking up naked on a Mexican beach was a little too large a statement. Kathleen took a harder look around. Her dress and shoes had to

be here somewhere. Even in her most inebriated state — and with the amount of pounding in her head she had to have been on one huge bender — she wouldn’t have paraded around Puerto Vallarta in the buff. She saw a crescent-shaped rocky enclave on one side of the beach, and the other side stretched as far as she could see. Above was a thatch of greenery with a path leading upward. Probably to a road. A reflection high above caught her

eye. Twin A-shaped V’s rose out of the bushes and trees on the cliff, both filled with high windows. Her villa. Thank you, God. Chewing on her lower lip, Kathleen weighed her options. She could stay here in the wet sand, risking getting caught by some fisherman or family of four who’d wandered onto her property, or she could get up and run as fast as she could toward the house. The villa staff would not have arrived this early so there was a good chance

she might be able to snatch a towel poolside. No one needed to know about last night. Surreptitiously, Kathleen looked left then right. She angled her head around, but didn’t see anything except clear blue water behind her. Ahead there was only the path leading to the house. The sun rose higher. No time like the present. Kathleen jumped up, ignoring the heavy drum beats in her skull, and took off across the sand. She’d

only taken a few steps when a male voice stopped her cold. “Leaving so soon?” The words were filled with laughter. Crap! She had waited too long. She covered her breasts with one arm and used the opposite hand to cover her pubic area. She didn’t turn around. “I…um…” She couldn’t think of a plausible reason she was naked on the beach. “Don’t worry about it. I guess we had some night, huh?”

We? Crap. She’d half-convinced herself it was just her skinnydipping — after all, there’d been no man present until five seconds ago. She racked her brain trying to recall something, anything from last night. But all she remembered were whirling lanterns, a crisp, white shirt and wrinkled khakis. Happy, Latin music bounced through her mind, warring with the drum beats already in residence. She was going to give the new and improved Kathleen a stern

lecture. Just as soon as she got off this beach. “…so I guess our clothes are up there, because they certainly aren’t anywhere down here.” Mystery Man had been looking for their clothes while she panicked on the sand. She supposed she couldn’t blame him; she wanted her clothes, too. Kathleen squeezed her eyes closed. She wanted to pinch the brim of her nose but was too selfconscious to move either of her arms. Even with her back turned,

she wasn’t comfortable being exposed to a strange man. “Could we just — ” she tilted her head toward the path, keeping her gaze riveted on the sand at her feet. “I just want to get out of here.” He didn’t say anything, simply walked ahead, leading the way up the path. Taking charge of a situation she couldn’t believe she’d gotten herself in to. She took a moment to admire his firm glutes and tight thighs. At least she’d picked up a great looking random

guy and not some pot-bellied loser who was the last man left at closing time. With his back safely turned away and the cover of several low trees, Kathleen shoved one hand into her hair and clenched her fist. What had she been thinking? Obviously she hadn’t been. She had taken this fling vacation too far. It was one thing to declare her independence, to take a much needed vacation before beginning the final training leg for her horse,

Jester. It was quite another to go home — or to the beach — with a man she didn’t know. Had they taken precautions? She didn’t know, but that they’d had sex was obvious from the tightness in her thighs and the leftover heaviness in her breasts. Her nipples were still hard for Pete’s sake, and not from the chill of the early morning breeze. The incline grew steeper, and the trees gave way to low bushes and ferns. As they rounded a corner,

the villa came in to view. Mr. Gluteus-Maximus stopped dead and whistled low. Kathleen made an abrupt move around him. Now this she remembered. Two A-frames, attached in the middle by a low breezeway, opened to a wide courtyard. Bright morning sunlight created rainbows on the structure’s many windows. Deep purple peonies lined the drive along with more ferns. Violets spilled from pots flanking the door. Around back, the infinity pool practically

slid off the cliff and into the ocean below. Heaven on earth. If she could just get rid of Naked Man before the staff arrived. Kathleen was almost to the front door when she stopped dead in her tracks. Sitting in the corner of the drive under an elm tree was an unfamiliar car. The low-slung coupe was too nice to belong to any of the staff. Eyeing the front door, she quickly walked to the car, placing her hand on the hood. Still warm, so it couldn’t belong to

Mystery Man. A tiny blue and yellow sticker in the bottom corner of the windshield caught her eye. A rental. With sickening clarity, Kathleen knew who the car belonged to. The question was why had he come here? And could she get Mr. GoodBuns to one of the cabanas poolside before they were caught? Only one way to find out. “The pool’s this way,” she said, hurrying back to Naked Man to lead him around the house. Modesty be

damned, she needed both of them clothed not standing in the courtyard where anyone could see them. “Our clothes could be there,” he said. Give that man a gold star. He walked calmly ahead of Kathleen. Was that to protect her from prying eyes if anyone happened to be around? Or was he just used to being in charge? It was obvious he knew a little about the house. Hmmm. He

sounded calm. As if walking into a stranger’s rented home happened every day. Gigolo, maybe? It would be the cherry on top of her morning so far. Kathleen shook her head and followed. The greenery gave way to smooth tile surrounding an oval swimming pool. The blue water of Mismaloya Bay was still in the morning light. There were two cabanas and a shower to one side, the louvered doors a crisp white. A rock grotto led from the pool to a

waiting hot tub. Several lounge chairs were spaced evenly along the other two sides of the pool. On the side facing the ocean, the pool spread to a ledge, making it look as if whoever was swimming could fall over the side of the cliff and into the ocean below. Kathleen stumbled, bright sunlight singeing her eyes. At once, the man’s hand caught her elbow righting her world. Lockhardt, Texas, a small ranching community just outside San Antonio, had

nothing on Puerto Vallarta. Or the man at her elbow. The brief touch sizzled up her arm, leaving a warm glow around her heart. Realizing her breasts were suddenly exposed to the warm ocean breeze and sunlight, Kathleen jerked free of his grasp, trying in vain to cover herself. Her eyes flew to the man’s face and she froze. His startled gaze locked on hers. “Jackson!”

“Kathleen!” They spoke at the same time. What was Jackson Taylor doing in Puerto Vallarta? Shouldn’t he be in a New York studio, torturing single women across the city? He couldn’t be here. This couldn’t be happening. Kathleen did the only thing she could do under the circumstances. She dove inside the nearest cabana, prepared to stay there the rest of her life if she looked back outside

and saw Jackson Taylor, her college crush, standing beside the pool. Pressing her back against the closed door she tried to convince herself that the man out there wasn’t Jackson. It was a trick of the early morning light. The hangover. Maybe she was still asleep. Dreaming. Yes, that was it. This had to be a dream. She’d dreamed about him often enough in the past. Lord knew, most of the female population at the University of Texas–El Paso had dreamed about

Jackson at one time or another. He was sensitive, brooding. Artsy. And all male. Deep brown hair, intentionally kept a little shaggy, chocolate brown eyes a girl could melt into and a runner’s lean physique made him a picture perfect man. Secrets surrounded him — he never went home for holidays, didn’t get care packages, didn’t seem to need anyone. He was also funny and blessed with enough charisma that he could have headed to Hollywood and become People

magazine’s Sexiest Man in the Universe ten years in a row. Please, please, please don’t let that be Jackson Taylor. She would do anything, would gladly give up the New Kathleen, if the man outside would just be a stranger. She would never come back to Mexico. Never drink tequila or whatever she had drunk last night. She would give up her hopes of running the ranch for Grandfather. Just as long as Jackson Taylor

wasn’t standing naked beside that pool. With her eyes closed, Kathleen twisted around and pressed her face to the door. She pried one eye open, lifting one of the louvers at the same time. It was him. Crap, crap, crap. She needed to reevaluate New Kathleen. The entire idea of coming down here and sowing some wild oats before she lost them all suddenly seemed like the worst idea in the world. She

should have stayed home. Turned seven months of celibacy into seven years if she had to. She was an experienced woman. Knew how to satisfy herself. She didn’t need a man to help her run the ranch so why did she need a man for the ultimate gratification? Because all the sex toys in the world don’t equal one touch from a man’s hand. Especially the memory of the man standing outside, tanned body

fully exposed to the rising sun. Jackson Taylor. And sleeping with Jackson Taylor was the biggest mistake this Texas girl could make.